Diva
04-04-02, 12:15AM
April 25, 2001
I have always loved writing poetry. Somehow inner pain was always my best muse. My love poems always seemed so sappy. Forced. Not quite ready for a Hallmark rip-off. Someone breaks my heart? The pain flows through my fingers. My reasoning is probably the most obvious. When I hurt inside, I've got to get it out. The happy moments? I want to be selfish. I don't want to share an ounce. Lately, that's about all I have left. I've heard people refer to life as being like a rollercoaster. So why do my drops have to be the length of Mount Everest, for G-d's sake?complete with geese. Sorry, Fabio. Go eat your butter.
A good friend gave me some advice along time ago. To this day, I don't want to believe it. He said that through the years you'll probably only find one or two true friends. If you can count you're friends on one hand, you're doing just fine. I understood part of that. That quantity doesn't equal quality. I have yet to find that friend. I trust more than I should. I grew up adoring my father and followed in his footsteps. Treat people how you want to be treated. If you can give someone something that they need, then do it. My dad got burnt many times. People used him and didn't appreciate what he did for them. I remember him taking in my stepsister's friend, her two sisters, their mother and a three story house of furniture. They never paid my dad a fucking dime. And then one day they left. No note. No thank you.
My dad just walked in and put his coat down. I was so angry. I said, "Dad?!??! Aren't you angry? They used you! Then left when they didn't need you anymore." He smiled and said, "Hon, I helped them out. That's thanks enough. Listen, if I help 100 people and one appreciates it, then it's worth it." I thought he was loopy. mumble mumble years later... I do the exact same thing. And now I understand. I haven't reached that hundredth person for a while, but that's okay.
Heart Ache by O
My heart falls. Turning. Twisting.
Sailing towards oblivion.
Your hand catches it. Touching. Playing.
You question it's purpose.
My heart is yearning. Burnt. Misused.
It calls for comfort.
Make a decision. Fearful. Confused.
Keep it. Or send it on it's way.
~ end ~
Losing someone who you cared about can be so painful. Leaving someone you thought you knew can be so heart wrenching. Leaving someone you never had? I feel my heart ripping. I can hear the sound in my soul. Please tell me that was person number 40...
I have always loved writing poetry. Somehow inner pain was always my best muse. My love poems always seemed so sappy. Forced. Not quite ready for a Hallmark rip-off. Someone breaks my heart? The pain flows through my fingers. My reasoning is probably the most obvious. When I hurt inside, I've got to get it out. The happy moments? I want to be selfish. I don't want to share an ounce. Lately, that's about all I have left. I've heard people refer to life as being like a rollercoaster. So why do my drops have to be the length of Mount Everest, for G-d's sake?complete with geese. Sorry, Fabio. Go eat your butter.
A good friend gave me some advice along time ago. To this day, I don't want to believe it. He said that through the years you'll probably only find one or two true friends. If you can count you're friends on one hand, you're doing just fine. I understood part of that. That quantity doesn't equal quality. I have yet to find that friend. I trust more than I should. I grew up adoring my father and followed in his footsteps. Treat people how you want to be treated. If you can give someone something that they need, then do it. My dad got burnt many times. People used him and didn't appreciate what he did for them. I remember him taking in my stepsister's friend, her two sisters, their mother and a three story house of furniture. They never paid my dad a fucking dime. And then one day they left. No note. No thank you.
My dad just walked in and put his coat down. I was so angry. I said, "Dad?!??! Aren't you angry? They used you! Then left when they didn't need you anymore." He smiled and said, "Hon, I helped them out. That's thanks enough. Listen, if I help 100 people and one appreciates it, then it's worth it." I thought he was loopy. mumble mumble years later... I do the exact same thing. And now I understand. I haven't reached that hundredth person for a while, but that's okay.
Heart Ache by O
My heart falls. Turning. Twisting.
Sailing towards oblivion.
Your hand catches it. Touching. Playing.
You question it's purpose.
My heart is yearning. Burnt. Misused.
It calls for comfort.
Make a decision. Fearful. Confused.
Keep it. Or send it on it's way.
~ end ~
Losing someone who you cared about can be so painful. Leaving someone you thought you knew can be so heart wrenching. Leaving someone you never had? I feel my heart ripping. I can hear the sound in my soul. Please tell me that was person number 40...