The blank page

Stares up at me,

Taunting silently.

I feel the words

In the back of

My throat,

But they won’t come.

No matter what

I try, they stubbornly

Stick.

I force myself

To vomit up the words.

Nonsensical words,

Covered in gore,

Tears, and insanity.

I smear around the words,

But nothing changes.

And all there is

Is

Smeared Vomit.

-Text Copyright 2019 (c) Leigh Rachele Thrompt-

Drifting forms

Echoed by something

Lying with me

Beanth the lavender sky

And hazelnut tree

Hey, I see through you

Pale and shapeless

You holy pink mist

Hey, I will never leave

Old and exhausted

But still here

Don't leave me behind

You pale colour of mine

I'll meet you tonight

Beneath the lavender sky

And hazelnut tree

Hey, as you can see

Nothing's gonna change

You'll wander here again

Hey, you pink cloud of mine

Hey, you formlessly devine

You'll always see me again

We'll always meet

(Hey, you)

Beneath the lavender sky

(Don't forget me)

And hazelnut tree

The happiest life

Is not one

Where you have the love of the world

But one

Where you have a world of love

For yourself.

Choking,

Gasping,

Drowning in the desperation

And dark

Deep

Depression.

The tears

Stubbornly

Won’t come.

They’re hovering,

Nearly there.

But

They

Don’t define you.

Tears help

You

g r o W

To become

Something

Better

To what you

Thought

Was even

Possible.

But

The true

Tortureous

Torment

Of tears

Only come

When you truly

Transform.

-Text Copyright (C) 2019 Leigh Rachele Thrompt-

Mom

reaches over

and

h u g s

me.

"I love you, sweetie,"

She says.

"Love you too,"

I grumble,

smiling.

Sturdy.

What can be sturdy?

Clearly not a flower.

But does it have the potential to be sturdy?

It’s weak,

Flimsy.

Vulnerable.

But strong.

Holding itself together.

If a simple flower can do that,

why can’t I?

I feel so broken,

Fragile,

Delicate.

Like egg shells.

Brittle, like crackers.

Dried out, like old crusty raisins.

But can I be strong?

Can I be sturdy?

Is there potential in me to become better?

You say I can.

Help me.

Teach me.

I want to be sturdy.

-Copyright (C) 2019 Leigh Rachele Thrompt-

My hand shakes,

Quivers,

Reaching for

What I desire most.

Carefully,

I throw my

Weak

Pale

Thin

Arms around

HIS neck.

HE grabs my waist,

laughing as we

twirl.

S

l

o

w

l

y,

HE sets me down on the grass.

Saying

"I love you."