The unuttered ramblings of a poet lost

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I am not an artist

Sometimes I fancy myself an artist until I see beauty so unabashedly on display in the works of others…I find my muse is harder to see and easier to want. Time slips ticking away the days until it is mine again but, sometimes the ticking is so loud it deafens me and others it is a mere whisper slipping out of my life like one’s dying breath. My soul floods with the want to, the need to express but, this life is not about a souls want anymore. It used to be about my journey but, as motherhood came upon me it became about theirs…so with a heavy heart I can only hope that they persue a legacy of creation that my mother instilled in me and that it will provide them the joy and outlet they need to handle any troubles passed to them by the world..


There’s a girl in my head who screams incessantly at the tops of her lungs in silence

She wants out

She wants now

She wants so much more than she has become and knows it is all so perfectly unattainable

There’s a girl in my heart who cries out in the dark

Fading ever faster from a world she never thought would outlast her

There’s a girl in my dreams who acts out never scene

This girl in my dreams is the me that has long since ceased to be

I wonder what it is to be you

To find beauty in every ounce of your own being

To accept the flaws as perfect imperfections

This person I am today may seem alright but that is only surface

Beneath it lies a girl who is constantly trapped in a battle with herself

Yearning to know what it feels to be, really be, beautiful

To know the bliss of accepting and loving oneself for exactly who you are meant to be

This mask I wear is a façade designed to keep you at bay

To deter anyone from wondering how I feel or what I see

The smile is a well practiced play I have had years to act out

Where did I lose my way…

I wonder what it is to be me


I am in love with the stars

limitless and vast the universe stretched out

I wait thinking one day one of them may see me just the way I see them

Amazing how something that seems so small from this vantage point holds so much potential

There is a magic in the sparkle, in that twinkling ember burning in the night sky that makes everything more…

Beautiful, real , alive , simple

The stars enchant me so that I cant even grasp the words to express their beauty as I know any utterances from these lips couldn’t possibly explore the depth with which they shine


I dream to travel the path of beauty untouched

To revel in the silence and the emptiness solitary

I want to see where my mind has traveled in feverish dreams

Stop time and just breathe

Be free in the moment away from it all

There is a certain magic in appreciating the art of those unknown…you may well see a beautiful expression in written word, photo, paint, music but, once put to a face it may lose it’s luster…

Days melt together as we strive to fully live

I wish I could see what anyone sees in me

This shell is flawed, incredibly so

Unfortunate it is that I’ve given so much  attention to this

I worry now that the beauty that used to lie in my awkwardness has faded

All that is necessary now is to be thin and perfect and feminine

No one sees these words

The only beauty I have left is in print flowing from fingers on a keyboard or a pen to paper

The world has not done this I have

Making myself believe I am not enough

I thought that was supposed to come in those formative years but, my flaws are screaming in my face now

Adulthood has swallowed up and spit out every ounce of uniqueness and that feeling that something about me was special

Now I sit lost

I’ve become so guarded I don’t even know what im thinking anymore

I worry constantly that this life has swallowed me whole

That I will forever revel in homework, and childhood illnesses and what to have for dinner

sometimes my mind craves more cries out for an experience not ordinary

I am thankful for this family we have created but, what is there to do when I see myself fading out

I love the people I have but not myself

I fall apart daily in my mind wondering who I am and where I would be now if I knew

I struggle to be someone to mean something I mean really mean something to you

I write poetry here that no one will read
I sing alone where no one will hear
In my head there are conversations playing endlessly begging for an audience
Once I fell in love with all my pretty ideas and eloquence
Now I fear anyone will know these thoughts I hold
What the past holds creates all this noise
Silence is oppressive when you’re left alone with opinions on so much