I thought I knew myself,

But,

Each day,

I find something new,

Each day,

Is different,

I struggle,

I fight,

Trying to overcome,

But,

Still,

I fall,

Sinking,

A dark ocean,

Waiting,

Me,

Swallowed,

My heart,

Held out,

Torn apart,

Yet,

I try to reach,

But,

I'm gone,

Struggling,

Under pressure,

Like Atlas,

Holding the world,

My world,

My shoulders,

When will it end?

Fear is a map

Follow the signs

How it invokes itself

Ages away

Secret uncovered

As you find it in yourself

Jealousy is a drug

As lilies to a cat

A tourniquet to suppression

Your cocaine

Your patch

For in it your destruction

Happiness is a dandelion

Soil parts its mouth for life

Until it knows its truth, Rather

The weed

Its fluff takes flight

In hopes to catch another

Does youth in the soul die with age?

Shall we all fall into adulthood’s trap

Forever altered

Imagination shriveled within

Make the world a stage to act our lives upon?

Will childhood disintegrate beyond teen years?

Shall we remember such times with distance

Everything evaporated

The choices made

Left to live in adulthood’s consequences?

Is adulthood to be an obligation?

Must we blossom if we wish to stay a bud

Untouched by poison

Unpollinated by contact

Are we destined to bloom, shrivel, decay?

Must lines sink beneath children’s eyes?

Must innocence meet its untimely end

Buried with imagination

Remains mourned by the soul

Until we meet immortality or oblivion?

Perhaps, childhood never dies

It lives inside us over a smoldering flicker

We must simply seek it out

Hear the voice within it

And let it shine over our softened hearts

Original Prose: https://theprose.com/TBHughes

I don’t always close my eyes when I kiss you

Sometimes I keep them open

Stare at the poster of Guernica behind your bed

Wonder what that dead soldier means

I always let you fall asleep first

Well

My arm falls asleep first

Then you fall asleep

And I shift to the opposite side of the bed

I’m afraid that if I hold you

You’ll feel what I feel whenever I close my eyes

I also get hot easily

I worry that depression might be contagious

Love isn’t a vaccination against it

At best, love is a mosquito net

With a few rips in it

So I build walls around myself

And hope that the germ theory applies to depression

That keeping myself at a distance

Will keep you healthy

Happy

I know what that dead soldier means now

I wrote a paper on it

Thanks for reading! If you liked this, consider following my Instagram @authortravisliebert or checking out my books on Amazon at the link in my bio :)

To the "sucker" with failed memories

shut in one locket

To the "crazy" with brain damage

Stuffed in their pocket

To the "crybaby" with depression

trapped under their skin

To the "fatty" with obesity

inherited from their kin

To the "snob" with a broken family

not spoken of, never said

To the "slut" with trust issues

stuck in their head

To the "weirdo" with anxious tendencies

replayed everyday

To the "pretty girl" with an illness

concerning how much they weigh

To the "goody-goody" with OCD

hidden in their blood

To the "loner" with social anxiety

invisible to everyone

To the "troublemaker" with deficiencies

stored in their brain

To the "quiet" with loud voices

causing them pain

To the "attention-seeker" with homophobes

waiting for them at home

To everyone who is "different."

I love you more than you know.

We're passionate

About the causes

But we often disagree

We stand on opposing lines

Holding our signs

We do it because we are free

Let's be apart

On the issues

If that we really must

But never stop talking

While away we're walking

In each other we should trust

We can try to

Find an answer

If only that we will

In joy and sorrow

We look for tomorrow

And not let silence kill

It’s always been

my earnest opinion

that people don’t change.

But sometimes

you see someone,

And they’re just

Different.

Your son comes

home from war,

and he’s different.

Your mother walks out

of the funeral home,

and she’s different.

Not how they used to be.

They didn’t change.

I already told you.

People don’t change.

the poor bastards

didn’t change.

They broke.

Check out my poetry collection which is available for free on Amazon at the following link:

https://www.amazon.com/This-Death-Love-Travis-Liebert-ebook/dp/B079WN6GPK/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1519318637&sr=8-1&keywords=travis+liebert

It threw,

it cut,

and it hurt you

but it always patches you up

and takes you to

where you need to be in the end