There comes a point in a person's life when they aren't a child anymore but yet they aren't an adult either. I'm at this point. I just graduated college so essentially my life is starting and the good times are about to roll. Essentially. But since my recent break up from my first love and the fact that I have to wait til a bunch of paper goes through to the state before I can start a big girl job I am stuck in a very depressing Limbo where I am alone and unhappy. I am unable to relax I have been told. So Limbo feels like a very small room that just gets smaller with each passing day. I know by September things will pick up and I'll be a big girl but my heart and spirit are so broken right now that all I can concentrate on is complaining.
Recently I decided that writing used to... if not make me happy help me through difficult times. So here's a collection of blurbs and poems I've written in the past month.
"Beneath the stars he kisses me
holds me close-we become entwined
the air sweet with honeysuckles and grass.
The breeze cool-his breath warm
all the anger and bitterness melts away
as we become one beneath the stars."
"Seeking a connection I kiss his lips
I stroke his chest.
In the end my body is satisfied
Yet I still do not attain what it is
I am looking for...
What is it that I am looking for?"
"She lies there pathetically mourning her loss. So much time and energy wasted. So much fucking pain. All over again she had to pull herself together and be strong. She was left unwanted and unliked. Most regrettably she was left all alone. Always fucking alone."
"Waking up when the sun is setting is routine for someone who feels forsaken."
"Tonight I weep
to release you from
That's all for now. As you see they get progressively more depressing. Oh depression how you inspire so many cliches in my art form.
until next time...