Tag Archives: writing

Heart to my Head

Hey you,

Up there,

Yea you, 

Don’t look away,

It won’t work.

I see everything

That’s right, 

You think about it 

Up there,

But you feel it

Down here.

I control if a thought

Lingers with ache 

Or washes over you

With joy.

I’m the key to your

Moral compass,

Always a pulse away 

From empathy

Or dissociation.

I don’t always get 

Things right,

But I’m usually on beat.

You can argue 

Any case,

I am always

The jury, 

But I know 

What you can live with. 

I’m a diary that

Doesn’t need to be written,

But I’m what puts the soul

In your poetry.

It’s not a contest, 

Your cinematic imagery 

Works in harmony

With my vibes, 

Elevating their weight. 

So don’t forget

I’m here, 

When it’s hard,

I’m not being cruel, 

But I know what 

You need

To be you. 

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almost there

365 days

maybe then i can rest

maybe then i can live

but mostly
i’m just learning

how to be ok with me

so i can be ok for you
almost there.

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I see what you did there.
Now, that I am in the clear,
But then, I couldn’t see past my tears.
The pain had created a wall,
In between my anxiety and reason,
Closing any backdoor to gain insight
To what you could clearly see,
But I trusted you blindly,
Even if that meant I was running into mirrors.

If I had still been there now,
It just seems implausible,
Like a chapter that doesn’t flow
With the rest of my story,
To be analyzed for eternity for its existence.
You saw where it would all go wrong,
So instead,
You decided to rip out my heart six chapters early.
No anesthesia or scalpel.

Small waves still wash over the scar
That was left by your hand,
As if you panicked mid scene,
Suddenly aware of the time line,
A car heading into oncoming traffic,
The only thought was to put it to a halt,
You reached into the spine,
Pulling at the true beat of the story,
The melody was fading.

It needed a refresher,
A course in Who Am I 101,
I was at a standstill,
I couldn’t move from A to B,
A malfunction in the wiring,
Looping back around to the starting point,
The part was good,
But it didn’t know how to be selfish,
It needed to learn to request new elements.

So I see what you did there,
You saved me.
I would have been too fargone,
Lost completely to a world,
Where I want to accompany the melody,
My story is flowing at full speed,
I know my purpose.
I forgive you for ripping me apart,
The pain now just a reminder.

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11:59pm

One offhanded phrase

to stab the heart

shattering an existence

based on expectations

ending with disbelief.

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Liberation

I’m sitting in the prime location,

Imagine…

A spot, where you can watch your world,

Another beginning, everything has paused,

You recognize the people in line,

The couple at the window,

The girl slouched in the corner over her laptop,

It’s natural, down to the macchiato on the table,

Everything that has past is still here,

I have a front row seat to the story of me,

Every cringe worthy moment on hand,

Hypnotizing, sending anxiety drones hurling,

A sound of unfamiliar cadence captures me

Just outside the window, beyond the haze,

The torturing repetition is encapsulating,

I need to swim through the stars,

Following the notes to a new scene,

Escape route unknown, my post has no more advantage,

My world has hit it’s climax,

But its a world that I have experienced,

I just need to take my coffee to go.

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Fitting you in

I think in words,

syllables as building blocks,

a game of tetris until

the right pieces fit.

 

Phrases bounce around,

turning into stanzas,

til stanzas fit stanzas,

so a poem sits right here.

 

You are the random bolt,

the square in my round peg,

the lost instructions,

you are my monday morning.

 

You sit on the tip of my tongue,

waiting to dive into my throat,

so I can give you life through,

my voice that hides in the back,

 

I’m missing the lego piece,

that connects you to,

my inner realm that

flows out of this pen.

 

You are scary.

Knowing you can disrupt

with so much calm,

something so sacredly simple.

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20 years later…

My heart still searches.

Nothing I write comes out right,

When I try writing about you.

You are my biggest secret, its true.

I locked you away, guarded by a knight.

My heart still searches.

I pretend memories don’t exist.

Left in the desert of my mind.

I think its easier to be blind.

It’s not safe, even for a quick tryst.

My heart still searches.

It took me 15 years to hear a story.

Knowing nothing about you was safer.

Using the future as an eraser.

You deserved more, deserved glory.

My heart still searches.

For I remember all that is possible.

The moments right before I was told,

Your watch on mom’s arm, old & gold,

Kneeling by the casket, the impossible.

My heart still searches.

You’re the secret I hold dear, for fear,

If I say too much, I won’t be able to recall,

That I’m the girl that jumped at your call,

From the swing, to greet you with cheer.

My heart still searches for your voice in my ear.

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Happy Writing Poets!

Threw this together for National Poetry Day. In its raw state but I think its appropriate. Happy Writing Poets!!

The first time

the feeling is alien

yet trusting

it stews for days

determining a plan

an attack

of feelings and truth

crawling up inside

fighting to be expressed

and then…

a simple act

a sharpened pencil

blank piece of paper

releases an abundance

of phrases so eloquent

a feeling of awe

strikes you so perfectly

it all comes together

all thats left is a

smile.

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Coming to Terms

Heard a song today on the radio
It sang
What’s the greatest chapter in your book?
Are there pages where it hurts to look?”
I gave the thought a ponder or two
Diaries stuffed in the bottom of drawers
Keeping all those secrets moments
Making me cringe at just the thought
Now take all those cringing moments
They might stack up to the ceiling
But I have to give them thanks
If it wasn’t for all those scribbled journals
 I wouldn’t be writing this.
~HonestLynne

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And Yet…. A Mystery

You are the page in my diary
That I don’t want to stop writing
The story that I want to keep re-reading
The fairytale that I wake up to in the morning

 

And yet…

 

I stand cursing your name to the heavens
You’re the definition of frustration
Impossible to not drive a person crazy
Visually picture your head with darts

 

Any yet….

 

You are still a mystery.

 

~HonestLynne

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