Hello again! Here you will find some things I’ve recently written (2018 to now) that are not quite as “teen angsty” as my older work. I’d like to THINK that I’ve matured in my writing, despite partaking much less often, unfortunately, but who am I to say? Oh, there will even be a song I wrote thrown in there, my first real attempt at song-writing. Anything new written from now (November 2020) forward will get their own posts on the home page.
All in My Head (2020)
You say that the block isn’t real? It’s a trick?
But my knuckles are bloody from pounding on brick.
The wall looms before me, taunting me still,
And the page remains blank while my mind’s overfilled.
The words come and go but they don’t stay for long,
I find some release trying to help write a song,
But it’s never enough, I can’t be content
I can’t form the words if they’re not my intent.
I scratch and I claw ’til my nails are all shredded,
Scream at the sky until I’m lightheaded.
It won’t fucking budge, I can’t force them out,
This pen is a desert and my mind is the drought.
No emotion within, and I’m dying of thirst,
A writer lacking words, what could be worse?
Hope fades again as the wall blocks the sun,
No moon to replace it, night hasn’t begun,
Clouds condense and rain starts to fall,
I see the drops but can’t feel their assault,
The world becomes soaked with the downpour I see,
Yet I am untouched, how can this be?
Lightning flashes and the wall starts to flicker,
In and out, in and out, like an old TV picture.
The sky rumbles and the world starts to shake,
The wall disappears, but I don’t feel the quakes.
Could you be right? Is this all in my head?
Can I write? Can I — oh. I guess I just did.
Too Much (Song, 2020)
You’re too much, too much
You’re too much, too much
Are you feeling unwanted
Are your memories haunted
By the words that were said
By every shake of their head
Dousing the fire inside
With each roll of their eyes
Ooooh oooh ooh
Time to strike the match and fan the smoke
Speak the words they should’ve spoke
Woooaahh ohh oh x2
Sick of hearing your apologies
Open up your eyes and see
That your fire within
Is a gift not a sin
Got to let your spirit out to fight
Your passion’s not a parasite
And you’re not too much
They’re just ignorant fucks
I’m so sick of being overspoken
Brushed off and ignored
Silenced by the ones I love
No sign of remorse
Saying “sorry” every time I speak
Regretting every word
A flame burns inside me
Though my voice goes unheard
So let’s strike the match and fan the smoke
Speak the words we should’ve spoke
Woooaahh ohh oh x2
No more unwarranted apologies
We are not our insecurities
And our fire within
Is a gift not a sin
Time to let our passions out to shine
Their detachment will not redefine,
The fact we’re not too much,
They’re just not enough.
It’s too much for them to comprehend
Too much for them to see,
We just need them to listen,
before we lose our sanity,
Our words are not meaningless,
This is not an analogy,
Though our pain might be hidden,
It’s our fucking reality
So when you’re feeling unwanted
When your mind’s being taunted
Ignore that voice in your head
Forget the words that were said
Light that fire inside
Let your voice come to life
And let’s strike the match and fan the smoke
Speak the words we should’ve spoke
Woooaahh ohh oh x2
No more unwarranted apologies
We are not our insecurities
And our fire within
Is a gift not a sin
Time to let our passions out to shine
Their detachment will not redefine,
The fact we’re not too much,
They’re just ignorant fucks.
I said you’re not too much,
they’re just ignorant fucks.
My Light (2018)
There’s a crack slowly forming,
In the wall that you’ve built,
And though your sword remains sheathed,
You can’t relinquish the hilt,
Now your guards are all falling,
And I’m laughing with glee,
As the few left still standing,
Lay down their arms as they flee,
Slowly my army advances,
Intent on breaching that wall,
But this is my battle now,
And so I tell them to halt,
“Go rest and recover,
Your work here is complete”,
As their footsteps fade away,
I gaze at the chipping concrete,
Up and up my eyes travel,
Until I see you at last,
Standing still as a statue,
Your beauty unsurpassed,
I spread my arms wide,
A shortsword in each hand,
“What are you so afraid of?” I say,
“Come down and fight like a man!”
Quick as a shadow you’re gone,
Then I hear the drawbridge creak,
My breath becomes shallow,
Knowing our blades shall soon meet,
I see you slowly approach,
Purpose in each stride,
As your sword hisses I think,
“This is gonna be a hell of a ride”
As our blades clash together,
I see the strength in your eyes,
And though it calls to something in me,
I can’t give up this fight,
And so I duck and I dodge,
I thrust and I parry,
The smile on your face widens,
As my body grows weary,
Suddenly I trip and I fall,
To my knees with a cry,
I’m too weak to stand
Too broken to fly,
So I hang my head, defeated,
Awaiting your final blow,
I feel your blade on my neck,
I know my blood shall soon flow,
A sharp cut around my throat,
That’s all that I feel,
And as the flat of your blade lifts my chin,
I know it’s not deep enough to kill,
Green eyes meet your gorgeous blues,
And I’m confused by what I see,
“That scar will serve to remind you, princess,
That you belong to me.”
Your hands in my hair,
As your lips capture mine,
“As long you’ll have me, Sir,
You’ll always be my light.”
Purgatory (2018)
There’s this weight on my chest, and I’m struggling to breathe,
Now the light’s growing dim, it’s difficult to see,
There’s this incessant static in my head, making clear thought a chore,
And I can’t seem to open this goddamn door,
I need to get in. No, I need to get out,
In or out, in or out, my throat won’t let me shout,
I can’t tell where I am, I’m so fucking confused,
These words in my head must remain so unused,
So I run and I stumble and I fall on my face,
This weakness within me is a fucking disgrace,
So I cower and I hide and I pretend I’m alright
While everyone around me is oblivious to my plight,
All they see is the shell, not the turmoil within,
The images in my head that their God calls a “sin”,
But hell itself can’t compare to this self- inflicted purgatory,
Nor to the eyes in the mirror, looking back so accusatory,
I know what I am. I know the truth I withhold,
And that this yearning in my soul won’t be controlled.
