Been a long time since I've written anything worth posting. Going through a lot right now. Trying to go back to school and such and nothing seems to be working out. Hope y'all enjoy or help me get my muse back.
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Huddled

I sit huddled under the Oak tree
Each leaf tries to be my umbrella
But the rain still reaches my already cold body

I wonder if anyone will come to see me
If they'll venture up on this hill to find me.
Anger and frustration are my worst enemies
Only second to my own mind and heart.

I don't remember being this frozen before
Stuck in time where I don't belong
On a path that I finally realize I shouldn't be on.

My escape was all planned out and double checked
But fate ended up making me the fool
Stealing my plans and burning them by my own candle

Part of me screams to just give up
Somewhere underneath all of those hateful voices
A single whisper can slightly be heard
"Everything will be ok" it tries to say

Mightier than all else
Yet quieter than the darkest night

Dripping wet I scream into the night
Trying to be louder than the voices telling me to stop
For an instant I believe I have won out...

Another second passes by and all I hear is that whisper

More time and still no yelling
Nothing but my own heart beating in my chest

I really like this. At first it seems simple, then I read it a few more times.

It shows that feeling of being trapped- maybe by your own moves- but now stuck, and you can't turn anywhere, and no one seems to know you are in so much trouble.

By the end of this poem I'm hoping for more, but I see why you had to give us less. These kinds of conflicts don't get resolved by supernovas- giant revelations - usually we just put our heads down and go about our lives hoping we find a way out someday.

i like this--it has a nice tempo...a nice flow. there's something very tactile about it--the imagery of the rain...the quiet...very evocative of the emotions you are conveying.

very nice.

Nanzar

Thanks. Actually I don't think the poem is done yet. It kinda just stopped. But you got exactly what I'm feeling, so I guess I did something right. And I'm still looking for my way out of this maze...

Zoom
Glad you enjoyed it. It's really just an overly emotional piece.

This is great. It's like one minute you hear inner voices yelling that you're no good or whatever, then they stop and you're left with yourself and you're overwhelmed, unsure of what to do with the silence. Happens in life doesn't it? calm after the storm. After everyone is finished yelling, there is silence and what do you do? Well that's when reflection comes, the most reflection. A true journey.
Sometimes the silence can be more harsh than the shouting. Because what's left is your reflection on what has just happened--but also what is left is your reflection on what to do next.

Glad to see you back! you're an awesome writer. Keep up the good work!
wp9

Beautiful, sharky, beautiful. I read this quickly a few days ago 'cause I didn't really have time, and I didn't quite get it...but now that I've focused on it more, I am so following you and what you're trying to say here...not trying, ARE saying.

Just beautiful. It's the still and quiet voice that says "It's gonna be alright" that can battle down a thousand doubts in your head...and it's amazing how one still, quiet voice can do that. It can only do it though if you believe it... the fact that it has, shows you believe in it's truth. Everything will be alright. You don't know how, you don't know when...but you know it will be. Realized that myself recently...and was nice to hear it echoed in this poem. Beautiful.

~Gabber

WP9:
Thanks! Been doing a lot of reflection. Just moved from Maryland to South Carolina so I've been freaking out about being away from everything I've ever known. Just been scared that I took too big of a risk. So far so good...LOL...but it's only been a week.

Hopefully now I can start writing more since I have my own space again.

But reflection is the key to figuring out the truth. And silence is the worst sound in the world.

Gabber
Funny...I didn't get the poem either when I wrote it. Was just one of those things where the muse took control because I was too caught up in emotions. But I'm glad you enjoyed it.

Everything always works out in the end. It works out the way it's supposed to be. So it's always "alright". But it's a whole different thing to believe in it always working out. Somehow I do though.

*hugs*
thanks!

It sounds like the words of a murdered girl, to me.