Failed Hopes.

The cry sounds silently, 

escaping through tears, 

muffled breaths,

failed hopes.

The tears fall heavily,

seeping through clothes,

flooding memories,

failed hopes.

The night grows weary,

dragging through hours,

exhausting thoughts,

failed hopes.

The day dawns bitterly,

obstacles through the race,

draining dreams,

failed hopes. 

Left on Hold

Harsh words ring over the dial tone,
Abandoned, escaped
faceless people offer solutions;
calm under pressure,
but no more helpful.
I am passed around,
answer to answer,
Left on hold,
frustrated and alone.
Lies and expectations aren't met
with warm embraces -
they leave me bitter and
angy with your attempts to help.
Can't you see I need the answers?
Only you can help.
Your foreign dialect the usual greeting;
You don't understand.
I shout, cry, curse, demand -
You cut me off.
No return call.
This time, you're on hold.

Discarded Dreams

Discarded dreams,
Never achieved, always remembered.
Motivation cycles leap and falter;
constant false starts,
bragging nothing but burden.
Regrets etched.
Optimism always lags behind -
blunt reality finishes first.

In your arms I am alone

Whispers ignored by shouts,
Into the depths I plunge,
but my anchor is you.
You hold me down
and you drown me,
I cannot escape your grip;
I cannot win this race.
Endless defeat - what is my purpose?
You, you, you
are always on my mind -
white noise disturbing thoughts.
Sanity interrupted by static.
Silence.

But I cannot live without you.

Ashes to ashes.

Waves spill down walls,
Tearing down emotions with paper,
Salted tears wash over the frozen carpet,
Tides of grief.

Fire roars through fabric,
Textures unwillingly created,
A darkened shadow creasing sentiments;
Ashes to ashes.

My life in a nutshell.

I drive a broken runaround
which leaks onto my drive.
It doesn't like to change gears,
so neither do I.

I have a soul-destroying job
where I am left alone.
I bite my nails and count the hours
until I can go home!

My haircut is growing out,
and it looks really bad.
I can't afford a stylist,
which makes me really sad.

The holidays are nearly over
and I'll be back at uni soon.
I hate uni more than anything,
So I'll just lock myself in my room...

Dungeons and Dependency

Wearisome ideals harness me to the bedposts of life,
Laid bare and exposed on top of the worlds watch;
praying for a last supper of love.

Bitterness stings my lips but still I taste you,
Illegal and yet attainable to senseless embrace -
yearning for the dependency of more.