writing freely

Poems

I'm trying to write freely,

Without criticism,

and ive wrote some poems im happy with,

but I worry about the simplicity of my poems,

But im expressing myself,

So I guess its okay, right?

A hum

I woke up this morning with a hum in mind,

It was a powerful note, a song I couldn’t quite remember,

And I wonder where it came from.

Reflection

My heart feels a bit heavy,

And my stomach a bit uneasy

I think of you often,

I wonder if you think of me.

I don’t think you do.

Not of a lack of kindness or care,

But because you genuinely haven’t.

When I saw you last,

You looked genuinely happy,

And I’m happy for you,

But it’s sad that I was the problem in your life?

360

I asked you questions,

I know the answers,

But I wanted to try see if my intuition was wrong

And it wasn’t

You answered everything calmy and firmly

There's no wobble in your voice

Or hint that you’ll change your mind

But I continue questioning

You don’t see the point,

You think we’re going around in circles

And we are

But I’m trying to break that circle

Or rather I want you to break that circle

To give me something, that tells me you feel differently

That everything is a mistake and we can fix it, one way or another

unkind

I miss the old you,

You haven’t changed,

Your clothes, your hair and your voice are the same

But now I see a version of you, the one you present to the world

Before I saw you,

unfiltered and open

You’re still so kind, but you’re now kind to me, in the way you’re kind to everyone

And it feels so unkind

My heart hurts from your politeness

I want genuineness, but you’ve put up a shield

And I know it’s to protect us both

But it hurts

Angel

I was once your angel

You would call me it everyday

It replaced my name

And I liked it

I felt that I was your angel

But I’m now back on earth,

My wings have been plucked and discarded

And I’m the same as everyone else

I long to be back in the sky

Writing freely feels nice

Simple and calm and nice

And it feels so much easier than journaling

From one topic to the next

In a matter of sentences

It does not compromise meaning or substance

But avoids over explanation, rumination or perfectionism

And my words, have meaning to me

Every sentence I write, I know what it means because I wrote it

There's symbolisms in the unsaid, in the already known

I trust in myself to fill in the details

And if this poem is read, it will be interpreted differently

And I think that is only positive

The world, and in this case poems are a reflection of oneself