Speculations whisper, her smile of fire,

Obtaining whatever and whoever she wants,

Like a siren luring in sailors to their demise,

Her heart sharper than a throwing star,

An air of uncertainty surrounds her,

Like she's not human,

Men are smitten for this woman,

Hearing the sweetness of her tone,

But not the harshness of her words,

The act is hard to not fall for,

One truth and two lies,

She has no origin,

Her only purpose,

To deceive.

The leaves

know

they must go

that their time

has come

to an end

to fiery death

as one compressed

and they blush

while Life

is drained

from the face...

from the dry wrinkled

stem and veins

that in old age

still caress

the sodden

surface

of the Earth

for final place

of rest...

to compost

with the

colors in the

underworld,

of the Universe.

03.21.2023

Myth leaves-color challenge @Ola_8

Hello

Here i am, she said.

Here i am,

Here i am.

The things i want

are not the things

i get.

But there is no thought of

want

I can complete

so there is nothing

for me

(there has been everything for me)

The want i once had

is now a void.

I wanted feelings

and lives

to blend with my own.

But I cannot touch

what is invisible

to me now.

The lives that went

somewhere

i cannot reach

cannot feel

cannot sense.

I turn and

turn

try to see

where no sight

exists,

in a darkness that

renders me blind,

a mystery that makes

no sense.

Maybe our Souls

continue to exist,

and you are here right

next to me

but I am just

unable to see

the bliss.

And so I hurt and sink

and struggle,

drowning in my ignorance.

All this I do not know,

cannot know ,

this is what must be

Hell.

The absence of knowledge

the frustration of no hope

a helpless denial

no more roads to seek

the ends of,

No conclusions to be had.

Just the struggle that always there

as I try to have belief

in this Life

which has been granted to me.

I don't understand life.

The way it gives and takes.

The way it bends and breaks.

How it gives you something wonderful.

Something that fills your soul.

It fill you to the brim,

and yet

it then just pushes you down

simply to remind you that

you wont be found

maybe it gives you a person

This person understands you

Loves you

And is as close to perfect as can be

but then it makes you realize

that it will end

not because someone dies

or because time seems to fly

but because it tells you that you aren't worthy of their love

you push people away as it tells you too

it makes you believe that you are unlovable by anyone

because after all

we accept the love we think we deserve.

I was innocent, pure, creative

As a child

I was ignorant, blind, silent

As a child

I am older, knowledgeable, learned

In the present

I am openmind, fearful, preparing

In the present

I will be better, kinder, bolder

As a woman

I will be wiser, mindful, speaker

As a woman

The moment has come.

Where Becca Waits no longer.

The breath that has been held

like a captive hostage

engulfs the Vital LifeSource

frenetically,

thankfully.

Colors red orange

blue purple

turquoise

spring exuberantly

into her awed smile,

full of first bliss.

The energy crackles

around her,

and finally it

has become clear.

THIS

is

What

ALIVE

means.

Becca wrenches herself free

from what has been

her definition for so long,

leaving Becca Waits

in the shambles of

empty nothing

and

Becca Begins.

The constant fight inside your own mind

Anxiety

The fear of something that isn’t there

Anxiety

The reminder than you are not like others

Anxiety

The struggling to find yourself amongst the constant thoughts

Anxiety

Trying to remember when reality is when society tells you that your wrong

Anxiety

Fighting to be better for others in fear of being rejected

Anxiety

But pushing people away in fear of being hurt

Rejected

Hiding yourself away so nobody knows who you really are

Anxiety

Looking in the mirror and seeing the monster you have become

Anxiety

It’s a constant struggle that many deal with

Anxiety presents itself in many treacherous ways

The battle in your own mind, exhausting as ever

But still you push on because you have those who rely on you

You put your needs second for the ones that need you

You push your problems in the back of your mind, and try to focus on helping others

You are not alone nor do you need to fight alone

There are those just like you and fight every day

We need to be there for each other just as you are there for others

We need to open up and express the struggle

Anxiety

Not an illness

Not a disease

Not cancer

Not an infection

But in some ways, anxiety can be even more deadly

Anxiety

You fight against an illness and you can beat it

You can battle againt a disease and win

Many battle cancer every day and are applauded when they win

Infections are faught with a healthy body

But anxiety can never be beaten, only weakened. When someone gets better nobody will applaud you, nobody will respect the fight, nobody will even realize it.

Anxiety is a constant battle

Sometimes you are winning the battle and everything seems fine

Sometimes you lose the battle and the world seems to end

But the battle never is won, never over, never quiet.

Anxiety is forever

she knew she had to fit the mold

Cinderella's glass slipper wasn't pretty anymore

but filled with responsibilities

taking care for oneself is no more a priority, necessity, and convenient

she had something better- Regret

all was lost the prince's palace was hers but not home

a piece was missing maybe shattered who knows

neither did the loved ones nor she knew

her spirit has left

floating somewhere in the blue skies and green meadows

laughing to her heart aches to stomach flips

knowing she is free and never coming back to her body her home

farewell dear one

you were the fire to burn for

power to reckon with

and I let you go

the loss is grave for mine to bear

I here you whispering old friend

I shall rise- I will rise.

I must rise

with a magnifying glass I search for her in my remains

to rise above all despairs

fight again

regain the lost and rebuilt something magnificent

like a double edged sword

the clock has two hands

one points towards freedom

the other towards the damned.

with each tick you gain knowledge,

maturity and skill

yet behind every new privilege

lurks a new threat.

with every memory made

an old one is lost,

death rusts your joints

and fills the cracks in your back

every common cold begins to reek of decay

mundane life runs the risk

of imprisoning you in a world of white walls

alone in a nursing home

because you can no longer be trusted

to have the independence

that you longed for

in your youth.

every clock

has two hands:

one is a key to unlock your cell

and the other is a door

to a new kind of prison.

there is one supreme

blissful presence

here

it's night time

I'm in my element

Freshly awakened

after a day

of sleep

I'm not a vampire

I only used to wish I

were when

I first started living like

this. What can I say, I

was young and playful

Now I know I'm

something

worse than a vampire

My grandmother calls

me a blasphemer

because

God has left day and night

upon this Earth

for work and rest

and I laugh in his face

and piss on his blessing

by using it in

reverse

I sleep in the day

and use the time of

night to

wonder and to ask

why he had created me

the beauty of seeking

answers in the

night is

that you don't have

to use your voice

writing

will do

You won't get the

answers, at least I didn't,

but it feels good to

shoot your

questions at the abyss

without being

stared at

Here I go

again

***

INSTAGRAM

https://www.instagram.com/bogdan_1_dragos/

POETRY READINGS:

https://soundcloud.com/user-937736610/shoot-your-questions-at-the-abyss