Idle Rumination

It started in seventh grade;
Glossed over the foundation.
Picture changed from clear to grain,
Anxious in anticipation.

My name once held a certain caché,
Despite my reservations.
But I threw it all away
For the comfort in isolation.

Now it’s hard to stay awake,
And to keep my concentration.
When there’s nothing to lose nor gain,
Just idle rumination.


Photographer Unknown

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I Am That I Am

How you treat others
Is a direct reflection
Of how you feel
About yourself.

I am that I am.
And you are who you are.
So let’s build each other up
Instead of tearing one another apart.


Humblefoot Portrait by Emily Lomoro

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Talking Constantly Isn’t Necessarily Communicating

You smell like old money,
And I wear a halo.
We talk for hours,
But it’s always the same, oh.
You don’t know anything about me.

We talk constantly,
But there’s nothing to say.
So I grit my teeth; stifle a sigh.
While you’re running your mouth,
I think up a witty reply.

Well, you could buy the high horse,
And it would still be the same.
I’m an enigma of the heart, victim of the brain.
If this is all there is, then I swear I’m calling it quits.
Yeah, you don’t know anything about me.

Your cold, gun metal coins keep hitting the pine.
It’s the same old sanguine routine on a Saturday night.
Your lips keep moving, but you’re not getting any closer to me.
Why don’t I hang up my angel wings when I’ve had enough?
Talking constantly isn’t necessarily communicating, oh.
You don’t know anything about me.
But the empty speech just won’t let up.


Photo Courtesy of

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Perception of a Lost Dream

Faded photographs,
Crumpled up in my top drawer.
They keep me up at night,
Speak volumes of all that we’ve endured.

They’ve led us to this moment in time.
It all happens so fast;
In the blink of an eye, you’d wonder how we got here.
But the past is gone, and the future is mine.

It’s just not all how I remember it by,
They say a memory is your perception
Of the last time you thought of what you’d seen.
And now it’s tearing me up inside.

It’s hard not to dwell on a past life
That was never mine.
Just the perception
Of a lost dream.


Photo by Joehug on Flickr

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I’m Asexual

Children are inventive. As a kid, what deterred me from my lofty dreams of becoming a doctor were hastily quashed by the thought of having to deliver patients’ newborns by pulling babies out of their throats. But if you had explained to me the concept of sexual identity back then, never in a million years would I have believed you. There were only simple answers to simple questions. Never would I have imagined that I would have to come out once to the world, let alone twice.

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You swallowed up such a big piece of my history,
And now I don’t know if I’m meant to be unhappy
For eternity.
Maybe in due time, the stars will align
And I’ll have my chance to shine.

But until then,
The dark places in the back of my mind
Will have to suffice.
There is no crime in being kind,
Even when you’re left high and dry.

So please just take this mess
And find a contingency of happiness,
A shred of success.
And the rest will be for the best.

There is no past without regret,
There is no future without disillusionment.
There is no present
Without the oppressed.


Silouhette by Aru Saru

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Not My Day (2014)

I’m having one of those days
Where nothing’s going my way.
No, I’m not OK.
But what’s the use anyway?

I could tell you I got no sleep last night
And I’m anything but fine.
But instead I’ll swallow my pride.
And tonight I’ll watch reruns of the sun rise.

I’ll try to make things right,
Despite feeling trapped inside.
Why can’t you understand my pain?
It all hurts just the same.

It sucks but I’ll be just fine.
It’s not OK, but I’ll be alright.
It’s just a bad day,
It’s not a bad life.
Today’s just not my day.


twenty two by Inesdcastro on Flickr

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