Th3 poetry

Poetry sideblog I'll be sending poems here every now and then Main blog: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/the-patchwork-grove

[the-thinking-thicket]

you asked me why i never write 'bout my love for you how it brings me to my knees but If I did I'd be writing an obituary really, what brings me down is plain old cruelty

I've been a fool and that's for sure you even had me kissing your feet but i've had enough, soon i'll be gone never to be seen again, I'll by flying free.

[the-thinking-thicket]

you will pay for your existence. every molecule of air you breathe, you have taken from someone more deserving. every drop of water you drink, could have quenched a better person's thirst. every crumb of food you eat, was better off in another's stomach. you are endlessly selfish, and you will pay for your existence. "but I never asked to live" and yet you continue to do so, you should have stopped ages ago.

[the-thinking-thicket]

tainted cerulean blue

clouds drift by swiftly

the wind seems quite strong

what a comfort this is

a perfect serene scene

If I reach out my hand

I could just-

the cold glass meets my fingertips.

ah, right.

I can never leave this room.

[the-thinking-thicket]

I hate you. There was a time when I believed with all my heart that you cared, that you saw me as a person someone worth loving. you killed that part of me, I watched the blood seep out of their mangled corpse. It's been years since then, Now the stench of rot chokes me on the daily. To you I was never a person worth love and care, I was never a person at all.

[the-thinking-thicket]

Do you know where you came from? How far does your knowledge go? Do you know your parents, your grandparents? Just how many do you know?

I think i know where I came from? just enough, i suppose... I sometimes wish I didn't. Just two levels, nothing more.

Have you tried looking for answers? Do you ever feel adrift and alone?

Yes I have, the answers were vague. ..Yes, I try to ignore it though.

really? what did you learn from them? And why do you think you feel such woe?

Shame, Bitterness, Death, and such. Can we let this topic go?

No.

Oh..

You can't run away from it forever.

I sure can try- And you'll be too slow

When will you face the fact that circumstances you cannot control have made it so you can never see your culture as home?

[the-thinking-thicket]

small little bird

in your rusted cage,

do you envy those

whose cages are gold?

little bird, i know

your cage is cold,

your food bowl's empty,

and there is filth in

your plumage and home.

you dream of living

in those bright domes,

i've an idea,

why don't you just go?

tear up your cage and

flap your wings and crow?

it will take time,

but that's all you have,

work and be patient,

and soon you will find,

air under your wings,

you'll soar in the skies.

(did the gold ones live, or just survive?)

[the-thinking-thicket]

If I left everything we knew behind,

would you still love me?

I don't ask much but I must know,

would you still love me?

If I pack my bags and move far away,

would you still love me?

If you didn't I would understand

and I really doubt you will,

just know that you were love to me

and you'll always be.

[the-thinking-thicket]

the moon's glow a rapturous spell prismatic arches paint the empty expanse of the heavens, the soft clouds drift with the wind life is worth living just for this.

[the-thinking-thicket]

continuation of this poem

I do not know what my purpose is. This revelation has threatened to drag me into it's gaping maw many times, in the past, i would cling to the book even as it's sharp edges cut into my skin. now, I stand alone. and it scares me. and yet i fight, for i am tired of pain i am tired of my hastily bandaged wounds being ripped apart again for an unreachable "perfection" that i had been given no choice but to try and grasp no. no purpose is worth that destruction.

[the-thinking-thicket]

I think I'm broken. at some point in the past years, I felt alive for the very last time. Desperation has become a new friend of mine I beg and plead fervently a prayer to no one but myself I stop breathing and yet. I cannot cry and my eyes remain dry. I should cherish the tears i do have Though they bring me nothing but pain I find it so sickeningly cruel That they are what remains of it all. I want the tears of happiness the tears of love I want to choke on my tears and know the grief brings hope I need to be free of this cold death.

[the-thinking-thicket]

"what is your purpose?" the words are blunt, cold. they force themselves into the crevices of my mind i have been blessed, or perhaps cursed with the knowledge my heart will stop beating someday. i accept that death shall wrap me in it's embrace as it has done for many before, that all shall remain of me is an empty husk of flesh and bone. but what shall i do with my time till the day i cease to exist? what is my purpose, indeed.

they gave me a book it seemed so large in the small hands of a child "it shall give you purpose" the book told me my purpose is to worship God. to pray everyday for the rest of my days to obey every word of his to respect his prophets and angels and surely, He will protect me from harm. tear stained pages and pitiful cries unanswered prayers and wasted time i've read those words over and over over and over until they started to lose their meaning

continuation here