Long Lost Personal Poetry

I found a notebook which I have held close to my heart for many, many years.  The saddest thing for me is that it started so young my second poem was written at 13 years old and goes like this…..

Exploitation

he says it’s ok

but I know it’s not

he says it won’t hurt

but I know it will

he says not to cry

but I can’t resist

he says not to tell

but I can’t keep it in

he says that he is sorry

but I can’t forgive

Loved

To be heard you need to be dying

To be thought of you need to be crying

To be remembered you need to be famous

To be you, you need to be lying

To be rich you need t have money

To be wise you need to listen

To be real you need to be born

To be born you need to have love

To be loved need to heard

 

I feel awful for this young girl with so much pain in her heart and no safe place, I was always struggling and looking for love.  All this young girl was needing was someone to take care of her and tell he she will always be safe.  I remember that was all I wanted I struggled and I craved nurturing.

 

Mirror Mirror

I look in the mirror

it looks back

I wave in the mirror

it waves back

I smile at the mirror

it’s crying back

I hide my pain but someone can see

just as the mirror waves

I cry myself to sleep

I looked in the mirror

My face goes blue

I have died and I’m looking at you

As your reflection I know everything

I am you the mirror your soul.

DRUGS

THE HIGH IN LIFE IS LIFE ITSELF

DONT WORRY ABOUT YESTERDAY IT IS PAST

TOMMORROW IS ALL ABOUT DREAMS

LIFE IS ALL ABOUT NOW

EVERY MOMENT IS A CHOICE

BE HAPPY, BE SAD, GET STUCK, GET OVER IT

IT IS YOUR LIFE LIVE IT RIDE IT HIGH BUT WHAT EVER YOU DO

DON’T KILL IT.

 

Who is she?

Who is she that girl they think is me?

She can’t handle life.

Death is knocking at her door

She’s screaming, so loud

Can’t you here her?

Her smile so sweet,

The glisten in her eyes

Hide the dying heart and the crying mind.

Who is she?

The girl they think is me, she can’t come out

They can’t hear her screaming

When will life for her be worth living?

She isn’t who they think she is,

She’s who they think she’s not.

Where is my life?

When do I get my turn?

 Just a chance to serve

You look at me and shrug

It started at my birth

How hard I try to please

I’m begging on my knees

My tears fall down my cheeks

You just look at me and shrug

I ask you for a chance

A turn at life itself

I see you take a glance

But turn as if to hell

Just a chance to live

When do I get my turn?

 

Violation
You may think it’s your actions that make me feel this way.
But you have proved that feelings aren’t worth the time of day
You said you knew me well and I thought you the same
You used me for a friend and that makes me insane
I have been hurt thousands of times and it doesn’t change the pain
You have hurt me to the deepest place and killed me with your game.
It used to wonderfully easy to write poetry, I had tonnes of time and no annoying children. I find now days I enjoy and relate to other peoples poetry and reading it has always been a pleasure of mine. Who knows when I will pick up the pencil again but I will never say never as it has always been an outlet for my emotions, frustrations, my life.

 

Sincerely Veronica,
A work in progress!

 

 

About Veronica

I am Veronica and I am a long-suffering broken, depressed, medicated, extremely sarcastic bipolar person. I was diagnosed many years ago however the bipolar diagnosis was first conveyed when I was around eight years old. I have BPD2 (Bipolar Disorder 2) and PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) and recently its been said I can add Borderline Personality Disorder. My new favorite diagnosis at present is TRD which sounds a little better that Treatment Resistant Depression. I have had Electroconvulsive Therapy a few times. *There is content in here which can trigger many things. I had considered writing something a very long time ago, but have so many depressive episodes I lose myself and then have to climb the wall again. I have beautiful manic episodes where there is no more reasoning with the other me and everything is fun and fast and free. They never end well; but in those moments life is exceptional. This blog is my way of working through my head. I love to write, I have boxes full of my words, in notebooks that have stories, poetry, pain, madness from within. It is mine. I write with hope that it will be read and connect with someone. I will listen to you if you need an ear, *I will always apply credit to another writers work if I am to use it. Only read if you wish. I welcome your comments and encouragements however I would appreciate that you are mindful that this is a public blog, which might be read by families and children and I would ask that you keep your replies to a “G” rated with a helpful rather than destructive tone. Sincerely Veronica - A work in progress!

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