it's okay to not be okay by Tangled-Tales, literature
Literature
it's okay to not be okay
sometimes it’s okay
to sit on the floor of the bathroom stall
and let your feelings gather- it’s okay
to let them pool like a lachrymose lagoon
as the inside of your stomach does summersaults;
I know these emotions can’t be tenderly released,
they’re not soft waves kissing the expecting shore,
let them pour out of you like tidal waves-
release the tsunami from within you
and I know sometimes the tears will sodden your pillowcase,
they’ll be juggernauts- those brackish beads
cathartically-cartwheeling down your flushed cheeks;
but remember how even the clouds
may cry tempestuously today,
only to make room
for m
Your feelings are valid by Tangled-Tales, literature
Literature
Your feelings are valid
I once read
that a teaspoon of matter
from a black hole
can weigh thousands of tons
upon Earth
so think about that
when someone tells you
your problem is no big deal
for
it may not look
like you have the weight of the world
upon your shoulders
but it sure can feel like it.
this is the kind of
sadness
that spills ink,
and today I am
completely tattooed.
I'm the kind of art
nobody understands--
not because it's deep or complicated
or anything worthwhile,
but because it was designed
by a mind under fire.
I am a creation with potential
annihilated by something
dark and too selfish to pinpoint.
I am dipping my resolve
in the river styx,
immortal but for its corners
where my fingertips rest.
I am forging my spiked edges
into armor with substance.
I was always the girl
chewing pens writing poetry
in the back of the classroom,
guess life is what you make it.
and being afraid is like a parasite--
left unchecked, it
What have you said at 3 am? by Tangled-Tales, literature
Literature
What have you said at 3 am?
Eyelids are heavy,
thoughts heavier,
feelings heaviest
and they say-
many fears are born
of fatigue and loneliness,
maybe this starlit conversation,
you'll discover
the thing he fears most,
with those sandbag eyes
and train wreck sentences,
is losing you.
cigarette smoke
and
alcohol
the fumes
embedding
in the wall
cocaine lines
in bathroom
stalls:
our generation,
we have it all
misguided teens,
with dying dreams
(poured down the drain
by languid veins)
the clinking of glasses
and racing hearts,
we cannot stop
what we did start
it's all an escape- a sick paradox:
we're running
from ourselves.
I saw you smoking
in front of the church
on Sunday
9:58 am,
and I don't know
whether service
was over,
or yet to begin
a milky haze
floating into the
a i r,
and with each
diaphanous puff,
I saw angel wings
f l y i n g
toward the heaven above
and I only wondered
if you hoped God
could save you from
your addiction,
or from whatever
the reason
you started smoking
was.