I think I’m more likely
to have my troubles dissappear
by finding the bottom of a bridge
than at the bottom of the rainbow.
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Bottom of the Rainbow
They say at the bottom of the rainbow
there is a pot of gold
but I am at the bottom
and I promise you there is no gold here.
Just disappointment and broken dreams
which you can find anywhere really.
So why unstick yourself from the pillows
you’ve been crying into for three hours?
Save yourself from searching
for the happiness you hope is out there
at the bottom of some rainbow for you
because there is not.
It’s just much the same
so just protect yourself
from getting your hopes up.
There’s nothing out there
worth living for.
This Hope
I once had this hope
that maybe my poems
would speak all the words
that I knew I could not;
That the right choice of words
and the right amount of something
that I did not have would be enough
when I knew that I was not;
That maybe the emotions
that I’m constantly holding back
would be felt in my writing
that I knew I could not share.
but I know they are not.
I still have this hope
that maybe someday they will
if I would only share those poems
with the rest of the world
and not keep them to myself…
yet I know I will not.
Sometimes…
Sometimes I wish the words for my poems
could flow as smoothly and as enchanting
as the ones in an Ed Sheeran love song.
Sometimes they do.
Sometimes I get caught in the moment
and find myself swept away in the magic
of the feelings I have and the words I type.
Sometimes I read what I write and think
“This is simply perfect.
I’ve captured a small glimpse perhaps
of what I originally intended,
but yet it’s exactly what I meant.”
Sometimes I take a step back and wonder
if the words are truly my own
because I don’t believe that my
lonely, loveless heart could have
produced words full of such awe.
Sometimes I get excited to share these
words crafted by my soul with the world,
but I always remember I can’t.
So while I may wish to enchant the world
with my own lyrics like Ed,
I’ll have to settle with saving
my soul to my file of drafts
full of other hopes waiting for their time
to shine like the light of a thousand stars…
Dangerous to Dream
It is dangerous to dream
bigger than the moment
you are already living.
It may be easy to dream
of long white curtains
billowing in a warm breeze
or a four-poster bed with
soft pink petals scattered
across bright, white sheets
that are as fresh and as pure as you;
maybe later you’ll be tangled in them
as you watch the sunset
over the ocean out your window
with the love of your life
shortly after you dedicated
your lives to be spent with each other.
Seems simple enough of a dream,
But that can be ripped from you
long before you ever get close
to touching that dream.
So dream simply of small things
like your first margarita
because the odds of someone
shoving that down your throat
against your will
is a lot less likely than other things…
take it from me.
Resentment
What is life but a huge disappointment?
You make dreams that don’t come true
which fills you with resentment.
Even you begin to hate you
for not being able to follow your dreams.
No Friends
When I say I don’t have friends,
I don’t mean I have no friends.
I mean I have no friends here
anymore to do things with.
It’s hard to be the one who
stayed. It’s lonely without you.
The Left Behind
It’s much easier to do the leaving
than to be the left behind.
While you are all off to do
all new things
in all new places
with all new people,
I’m left with the same life
I’ve lived for many years before
except it’s different now
because you’re not here
to experience it with me.
Not a lot of exciting things happen to me
that you haven’t heard of lived before
but I get to hear all your exciting
stories from around the country
and realize how stuck I really am.
I’m glad my friends get to go on
such exciting adventures, I am.
But sometimes they don’t realize
that in the wake of their new experiences
I am left behind with no one
to do something as simple as
get a coffee with
because my closest best friend
is at now four hours away
and that makes life very lonely.
Trinkets
It makes my heart so sad
to hear all these girls talk
about what they want
(and will probably get)
for valentines day.
They want flowers
and cards
and chocolates
and candies
and teddy bears
and big gestures
and I am insanely jealous.
Not of the things they’ll get,
because stupid trinkets
from an aisle at Walmart
don’t interest me.
I envy their status;
their position;
the fact that they are
in a place where they can
have and set expectations
such as these meaningless items
because all I want
are three short words
but I will never hear them.
Instead, I’ll get three different words instead:
you’re not enough.
And I never will be.
Fairytales
I wish that fairytales were real
because that would mean that
dreams really do come true
just because you will them too
and patiently wait for them to happen
and everyone gets a happy ending,
even me.
But that’s just not the case.
Love is a sham
and the more you believe in it,
the more you’ll get hurt.
then again, if you don’t believe in love,
the world reveals it’s cold self,
and it’s miserable living there,
but so is living in a constant state
where you believe that any day now
you’re fairytale will come true
and your prince will finally love you.
Go ahead and pick you poison:
reality or an apple.
