Array ( [sid] => 146629 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Just journaling. . . [time] => 2008-12-02 18:32:00 [hometext] => longest lesson ever learning. . . I spin & turn with all concerning. . . make my bed & leave it burning. . . all because the table's turning. . . [bodytext] => Chaos & order, following suit. If I have to fill a void, it should be myself. So what if nobody ever sees this. I can go over it time & again in my mind & perfect the secret inside of love, the part you don't want to show but can't help feeling. Ohh, oh, oh, did she say feel? Don't let me be repetitive. . . sigh. . . :) scribble, scrabble. I'm shaking my head. It all feels so weird. . . to try & think & write at the same time. You end up think/saying each word seperately. Like now. Were my lips moving? I saw some new videos, today at lunch. Music must be some life. . . Probably challenging, exciting. . . Why do we like to be excited?? Inside & out? Must I write what flows? I want to be wanted. Is that too special? Can I be fixed? I feel inside-out, like all my insides are floating in disarray, out into my universe. Will they/me reunite & will I be the same or different than what I used to be?? Everything is likely & unlikely. . . possible & impossible. Some names are just unacceptable to call anybody. I won't expand but chronic repetition intensivies the harshness of it all. How many times can I really hold my world (that I'm unhappy with) up to the light, for a good, close look? If I stand very close to the mirror. . . if I gaze into myself & find distortion of the gift. . . to be continued. . . [comments] => 1 [counter] => 193 [topic] => 48 [informant] => elle [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => EmotionalPoetry ) Your Poetry Dot Com - Just journaling. . .


Just journaling. . .
Date: Tuesday, 2nd December 2008 @ 06:32:00 PM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: elle
Chaos & order, following suit. If I have to fill a void, it should be myself. So what if nobody ever sees this. I can go over it time & again in my mind & perfect the secret inside of love, the part you don't want to show but can't help feeling. Ohh, oh, oh, did she say feel? Don't let me be repetitive. . . sigh. . . :) scribble, scrabble. I'm shaking my head. It all feels so weird. . . to try & think & write at the same time. You end up think/saying each word seperately. Like now. Were my lips moving? I saw some new videos, today at lunch. Music must be some life. . . Probably challenging, exciting. . . Why do we like to be excited?? Inside & out? Must I write what flows? I want to be wanted. Is that too special? Can I be fixed? I feel inside-out, like all my insides are floating in disarray, out into my universe. Will they/me reunite & will I be the same or different than what I used to be?? Everything is likely & unlikely. . . possible & impossible. Some names are just unacceptable to call anybody. I won't expand but chronic repetition intensivies the harshness of it all. How many times can I really hold my world (that I'm unhappy with) up to the light, for a good, close look? If I stand very close to the mirror. . . if I gaze into myself & find distortion of the gift. . . to be continued. . .

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