Monday, August 31, 2015

If it were perfect
washed up yellow street light
glowing on the corner of National Ave
sparkling on the wet pavement
like a constellation heaped on the ground
thoughts keep me awake
turning and tossing
blankets thrown to the floor in a pile of frustration
it’s quiet
the sky opened up
like i never could
and drenched the earth in wind and rain
i sat on the porch
at 5:58am
because the thunder called me
and the lightning comforted me
it felt nice to know that i was not the only one
whose existence was merely something of chance
the storm raged on
as did the one beneath my skin
in the dark with a tight throat
burning eyes and a stinging nose
longing to go home
even though I was under a roof with a father and sister
who loved me
in a place i called home
knowing full well that the air i breathe sits like a boulder in my chest
and i struggle to stand
grasping desperately at the railings
i’ve been holding my breath so long
waiting for a miracle
that my lungs turned to sails
so that instead of drowning
i could live in the rain and sail the storm
just as the sun began to peek
over the crests of the trees
and suddenly the world was lonely again
just a small cosmic god in a kingdom of things
greater than anything imaginable
i wonder how it would taste
to sip the stars
and to place each of saturn's rings
on my fingers
how would it feel
to lay down in a blanket of time’s worn fabric
would moondust and meteorites grace the crown of my head
with gems of frosted crystals and small galaxies
what if my hands could create a universe

what if it were perfect?


Welcome to emptiness

I drink the pain.
Swallow my pride.
Burn with the hate.
Cry to my lies.
Bow down with my fears.
Stifle the vomit of my emotions.
Leaving nothing but hollowness.
A hole in my life.
A hole in my self.
A hole in my heart.
Gaping more and more as the days dwindle.
Soon nothing of me will be around except my mere existence.

Leaving me to fill the void with more emptiness for me to choke on.


Tuesday, August 25, 2015

My gift to the world

My gift to the world,
Some give medicine or peace,
Some tech or music,
I give what this world earned,
For the sins and sinners,
For the sex, drugs, and slaughter that fill the air,
This world earns my gift,
The gift to burn and rot,
From the inside out,

This is my gift to the world.


When Thinking Big Hurts

As a child I wrote fantasy
Because I thought evil meant
The bad guys finding me
Now I write poetry
Because I know that
The bad guys are inside of me
And sorrow means losing yourself

Have you ever tried not breathing?
What about not feeling?
Like an elephant
Sitting on your chest
Blacking out ‘cause
You can’t deal with the light that’s
Threatening to illuminate
The dark corners
Of your dark mind

God gave us walls in our minds
To save us from
The things that would break us
Breaks our tongues
In our heads
Because he knows thinking big hurts

Thinking big hurts too much

-Emma Beitzel