Poetry A Looksie into my head (Poetry)

[Shy2Infinity]

Missed Chances -- A poem about losing someone and not getting the chance to say what you really needed to.

Of every friend I’d cherished,
Why is it that I regret losing you the most?
Young and dumb,
Childish and alone,
The memory catches me still.

Chasing it through cloudy trails,
Trying to catch just another hazy mirage.
I stretch out my hand; as it all slips free.
Maybe a voice, maybe a simple kindness.
Please… Give me a sign that you weren’t imaginary.

If I could find my way back to you;
But it’s all madness; because everyone parts soon enough.
I don’t think I’ll ever get to say what I really want to.

Thanks for your kindness and I’m sorry.
Thanks for showing me that the world doesn’t have to be cold.
Thanks for saving my life.

Wish I could say I still have your treasure,
The stars had fallen long ago,
And I’d fallen beneath them.
My search proves fruitless still.

So many missed chances.
Even if I know there was nothing I could’ve done,
That doesn’t change any of it.
Nor would I dare, of my own will.

 

[Shy2Infinity]

Within my reach; To Defend all that I hold dear -- The fan poem to the last book in a trilogy The God of Lost Words. This poem is technically the POV of a character? But it's not a character that's technically introduced in the book, you just find out about her. The way her, ha, 'story' ends kind of inspired me to write this lul.


Stories were born in starlight and hope,
Beneath the cruel light of war
Where gunmetal twists and creases,
And destroys all that one holds dear;
But bravery is at the heart of all tales to be told.

Just as war was born in the cruel light above,
I’ll wage one in brimstone and ashes
And show that not all lives end filled with blood and dread.
The roars fill me now
Of demons cackling at the folly of man.
Say what you will, but souls are worth the fight.
My library is worth the risk.

Within my reach;
To defend all that I hold dear,
Because I’m a selfish human
And so I refuse to lose a single thing
To the machinations of demonkind.

The journey is fraught with perils
And through lands unfamiliar,
The horrors untold…
But that’s what makes a story;
Fighting and overcoming all your hardships.
No matter the pain.
No matter the suffering.

Because I carry hope.

If a little glitter is all it takes for a rebellion,
Then let it spark and consume this fragile heart.
I’ll continue to descend into madness;
And pray that you’ll dance with me too.
Even if the fear consumes me whole,
And I no longer feel the will to continue on

I’ll risk it all for our happy ending.

 

[Shy2Infinity]

Might as well be Dead -- This is a fan poem for the book "God of Lost Words", the last in a trilogy for the Hell's Library. I wanted to make this longer, but honestly, I think it's short and sweet. The ending to God of Lost Words made me want to cry honestly. Like, technically, no one died? But it was the exact kind of situation everyone was trying to avoid and then this character comes in with their self-sacrificing bs--

You might as well be dead, ya know.
For all of our arguments,
Calling each other monsters,
Using spoiled titles that no longer matter…
Will we ever get that again?

You might be a God now,
But couldn’t you be our Goddess?
Here in this supernatural Library,
That way a sacrifice wouldn’t be
What you were known for best.

He was right, you know.
We’re all too self-sacrificing for our own goods.
I just didn’t think that would be
A foreshadowing for the future.

 

[Shy2Infinity]

Sick -- This one's kind of old-ish? But when I wrote this I was struggling with a pretty bad UTI where I was throwing up constantly and in so much pain that it felt like I was dying. When you're in so much pain, or just sick in general, I feel like it's fair to want just a little bit of special treatment. But one of my family members didn't seem to get the memo, and acted just as asinine as usual and yet, if I were to express my anger it'd just be me in trouble

I’m sick,
So that would suggest
A little special treatment.
Right?
Then tell me,
Why I’m expected
To deal with the stinging barbs,
Words that taste like brimstone,
Of a person too callous to care?

Family is a word that excuses your actions.
Strung for all to see, an idea to discourage you from speaking up.
Because you’re supposed to forgive them.
It’s your job. And if you’re reasonably angry?
Then that’s your fault.

It’s my fault, because I can’t take a joke.

What about when the agonizing pain takes my breath away?
Or when the sickness brings me to my knees?
When I just want to curl up in bed and hope that the suffering is a dream?
Can’t even cry, because that’s weakness.

Even when I’m pale like a ghost,
My skin and lips losing all their color,
Witchy eyes having lost their luster,
And it feels like fire’s burning me inside and out;
I’m expected to be prim and proper.

 

[Shy2Infinity]

Lady in White -- Where it all began.

Of all the selfish little
Idiosyncrasies,
Lost in a daydream.
But can you find me there?
When I’m tied down,
Lost in adventures of the mind.
Assign me a role
That forces me to feel content.

The only music I want to hear
Is the thumping of my pulse,
As the glamor keeps me eternally young.
This child doesn’t realize that she’s just a doll,
Kept just to be seen and admired.

This Lady in White
That yearns to make her daydreams a reality,
Say goodbye to the woes of her daytime world.
A creation of a better me,
She denies all the harm.
Her world is a perfect one surrounded by roses,
Not realizing the thorns that they hold.

“If you’re happy, then all of your wishes can come true,”
“If you’re hopeful, then the storm clouds will pass.”
“Are you sure?”

 

[Shy2Infinity]

Behind One's Back - a poem about being surrounded by secrets that only your privy to.

I heard it.
The Secret told behind my back.
Do you know how awful it feels;
To have your paranoid thoughts proven correct?
Once an insidious thought, it borrows deeper,
Sinking jagged thoughts deep into your subconscious.

Everyone loves to gossip!
Hoarding secrets told to make oneself feel better.
All the better if they don’t have to be taken to the grave.
But secrets wielded like knives,
Only ever cut and maim.

You never notice the aftermath until it’s too late.

 

[Shy2Infinity]

Did What I Must

Every good plan needs determination,
And the willpower to do what you must.
But I’m a coward who couldn’t think it through.
Because after the first, obligation trapped me.
And after the first, I began to suspect I was better off here.

Better off with the guilt of a plan ripped to pieces,
Of a future covered in thorns,
Burning like the sun, even as I so dearly want to reach it.
Do you think Icarus knew of his doom?

But if you learn of the truth of these painted lines,
Know that I did what I must;
To convince my brain fully,
To give myself the resolve
And take a risk,
For a brighter future.

 

[Shy2Infinity]

Daughter of the Void -- This poem is about the main character of my story Witch Light, who's named Lunelle :3

Blood, grief, and pain
But fuel to the fire,
Light and Chaos and all of that,
What is life without a little torture?
What is death but a new chapter to your story?
Through life these sails might be frail,
Your bones might be weary and aged
But hear the call of the Beginning.

Oh, Daughter of the Void.
Listen to words a plenty,
They might scream and batter and pull you
In so many different directions.
Their warnings shouldn’t go unheeded.

So you say you want to make a deal,
So you say you want to make a difference.
There are no angels in this world that care to listen.
They simply turned their backs on you
And yet, you still seek to try.

Can’t you see, the past is not worth fighting against.

Oh, Daughter of the Void;
Hear my voice.
Abandon this foolish path,
Because there’s no hope for you.
It would be better to give up and let the world burn.

Blood, grief, and pain
But fuel to the fire,
Light and Chaos and all of that,
Will you fight against the doubt blooming in your heart?
Do you seek to make yourself the hero?
There will come a day -
Approaching even now -
When you’ll have no choice
But to tip those fatal scales.

 

[Shy2Infinity]

Here's a small collection of short poems that are somewhat old~

Clean

Clean, clean, play make believe
Like I’m in some kind of fantasy.
I can be Cinderella
And pretend that it’s not reality.
Who’s really the maid here?

Scrub, scrub, scrub my mind clean.
But nothing can purify a brain stained with indifference.
Anger coils like a shroud; truly, it is safer.
I could cry, but they’ve shown that tears are weaker.
At least fury gives me a fighting chance.

---

Break -- I thiiiink I was planning on making this longer, but that clearly didn't happen and I no longer have any intention to work on it.

Hairline fractures along its neck,
Pieces of a forlorn story,
Where the glass is blue and whole.
Now cracking and duller,
A bottle that has long seen its use.

---

Hush

A dreaming peace is all you need.
Hush, hush.
Indecency breeds contempt.
Hush, hush.
Wallowing in self-pity.
Hush, hush.
Something’s about to be done.
Hush, hush.
Every lie soon becomes undone.
Hush, hu--
Quietly now, sleep beckons.

---

No Thank You

Imagine if your life was filled with misery,
Would you spare yourself the aching?
Take away the hollowness;
Break every rule,
If it meant you could be happy?

Two roads ahead,
Both deceptively clear,
I once thought I could travel both.
Yet the storm clouds gather,
My path diverges from conformity.
No thank you, to society’s standards.

---

Why a Boy?

Why is it so important
To have my life tied to a boy’s?
To have a relationship deserving
Of your heterosexual bullshit.

Don’t you know
There are ways to go through life
Without obsessing over superficial
Garbage.

 

[Shy2Infinity]

Reminder -- A birthday ruined in a single moment.

On a day of momentous occasion,
Another year gone by.
The calendar has been flipped;
And reveals a hole in its plot.
Birthdays are to be celebrated;
But one word, one sentence uttered --
Curses the day anew.

Mother dearest hasn’t come.
Mother dearest hasn’t called.
Mother dearest sends no gifts.
I used to feel resentment,
And so long before that, I once felt love.
Now, there’s nothing.

Others seem to think I should feel
Something. Sadness in the void
Where there used to be Everything.
After all, why love when you’re still expecting a change?
Why hate when you haven’t yet given up?
For years, a stranger was all I ever knew.

Perhaps I regret what used to be
When things were simpler,
And I used to feel an overabundance of affection.
But all of that, even back then, was a lie I had made myself.
There was never a happy family;
Just one that wore gleeful masks,
And kept the darkness hidden.

That’s the “reminder” I keep being given.

---

Beware Blind Faith -- A poem about a character who has seen the true nature of his long time friend.

Look at you
Stricken in the mud like a lost pup.
Clearly you’re vulnerable already,
Not a friend by your side at your weakest.
So perhaps I should make myself that ‘friend’.
You’ll never have to fear with me there.

And maybe you won’t spot the treachery
Looming at your back,
A knife’s blade against your spine.
Can you sense me there?
Did they never warn you
That monsters prey on the weak.

Beware blind faith.
It’s a truth that everyone is taught
And still fail to recognize.
You don’t even realize
I’ve broken every rule
With you none the wiser.

Gave you a shoulder to lean on,
Pretended to be the serenity to your plausible deniability.
You like plants so much; think of me like a toxin,
Killing you slowly.

A monster they made me,
But a necessary evil to your naivety.
Does your reliance on the kingdom
Come from the knowledge that you know nothing?
My brand of triumph surfaces
When you give up what I seek.

What a shame it was,
That your parents entrusted the cure to you.
From whence they’ve come,
They’ll watch as you shatter their memory,
Efforts lain to waste
With the Panacea in my grasp.

---

Instruction Book for Skeptics -- Fan poem for a story I'd once read called "Quill of Thieves"

Life should be only one way.
It’s mathematical,
There’s no science involved
In the mythos of fantasy.
And yet, questions arose
Curiosity refusing to be sated.

Because while science is the foundation of life,
So is the aura of mystery.

Like night clashing with day
Or fire against water
Because surely one will give in.
Myth doesn’t exist forever.

And yet, I’m being given an ultimatum.
Life for a life. Treachery of the highest order.
Like oil on the skin, it consumes my every waking thought.
Thrust into a cage not of my own making.
A pretty, gilded cage.

Made a ‘guest’; prisoner.
Even information has begun to clash.
Because science shouldn’t mix with fantasy,
Even the books have begun to rebel;
Taunting me with the truth.

There’s no choice left;
Adapt or die,
The choice couldn’t be clearer.

 

[Shy2Infinity]

Obsession -- A poem about a love that consumes all waking thought.

I’m not one to scream,
Throw fits,
Pull out my hair and
yell my displeasure to the skies.
But my heart’s all in a daze,
Because I’ve got you on my mind.

It was just an inkling at first,
A voice digging claws right into my conscious.
I’m not healthy; and I never claimed to be,
But you’re not talking, and it’s been a little under a month.

Obsession demands a little more,
Take and take and take.
I understand, it doesn’t make me a bad person
To have these feelings.
But in the dead of night;
I want you to be mine and mine alone.

Is that so wrong?
I know you’ve got a life,
And I know you’ve got important people
But aren’t I important too?
Don’t I matter in the least?

I see your name and my thoughts run wild,
A lion in the safari,
hunting with wild abandon.
Reminded of all the ways I could keep you,
Eternally and ever more.
Or else we part, forever and ever more.

No matter what I know is best,
I can’t be away from you.
And isn’t that the most divine love?
My obsession can’t be contained.
I once thought of you as my prince charming,
There’s no saving me now,
Heavens know I tried.

Because even if there is a path forward,
I’d rather suffer than nothing at all.