NaPoWriMo: Day 10

Prompt: Write a poem that starts with ‘Growing up, they never tell you..’

Growing up, they never tell you
That loneliness is real
That you can be among a crowd of people
But still feel alone
So I have learnt the hard way
How the sound of my own voice
Is not enough to fill the void
How silence is deafeniîng
When there is no one to share it with
How familiar places
Are just not the same without the familiar faces
And I have grown tired
Trying to find a place
Where my feet feel welcome
Where the outline of my hand
Fits perfectly into another
I miss the feeling of home
I miss being alone together,
Together, anything but simply being alone

NaPoWriMo: Day 9

Prompt: Write a poem that starts with ‘I wish you knew..’

I wish you knew
That you were the one
That gave me my voice
You helped turn sorrow
Into art
The reason why my heart bled
But the reason why it decided to write
I pray one day
You stumble across these words
I hope you see my growth
I hope you see how I found joy in the end
I hope you see how my song changed
From a girl who lived in the shadow of what could be, but is not
To someone brave enough to stand in her own light.

NaPoWrioMo: Day 8

Prompt: Write a poem from the perspective of one of your emotions, addressed to yourself.

Mide,

Every night you fall victim to me
To the sound of my voice
It is engrained into every poem
Every lyric
That has ever graced your page
I have seen it cloud the parts of you
I know to be the best
But I thrive
Off the times
Where you let me take control
I feel it in the beat of your chest
Your breath hitches
Like you’re about to lose control
And I grow
And grow
Anger rising to the top
Dripping into a pot
Of hurt that you can’t explain
I am the reason for your tears
The reason you lay awake at night
Trying to quiet your mind
For you can’t sleep
When I set up camp in your peace
We seem to be the best of friends
And I’m pretty pleased
For didn’t you know
Anger is like a disease
That resists rationale
And replays what’s hurt
Until all you feel
Is me
Over
And over
Again.
I know deep down
You like the anger, the hurt that comes with it
For it makes you feel alive
Admit it
I am the muse
That keeps your poetry alive.