EMOTIONAL WASTELAND? This too shall pass...

Every now and then thoughts spill onto paper so fast that poetry has no rhyme, reason, or specific pattern. Poetry, like emotions can be running all over the place and yet be standing still at the same time. Whenever I have thoughts that can't be verbalized, I write them down, exactly as I feel them at that particular time. Sometimes it appears to makes sense to only me...but that is the beautiful thing about poetry...when you write from the heart...anyone in the same frame of mind will understand.

Sometimes you have to step back, evaluate every relationship you've ever been in, and then put into yourself everything that you put into another person. There is nothing wrong with expecting someone to love you the RIGHT way. If you truly LOVE yourself...and if someone can't love you with the same fervor in which you love yourself...The same fervor with which you love THEM? Why bother? Let them go and hold out for a love that deserves YOU.



Wasteland
By Ebony Farashuu
07/07/10

My body feels empty
Tears echo as they fall
Drip
Drip
Drip
Tiny droplets causing ripples that will forever change the ocean of my life.
The strife that dwells within me is constantly struggling with the logic of my mind
My heart is blind to the truth
Uncouth in its wicked deception
There is no contraception
That protects from unwanted despondency
My soul has been impregnated.
Damn I hate it when
My tough girl has fallen and I can’t pick her up.

My stagnant thoughts long to make my shell tougher
Exercise my ventricular muscles so my heart will be buffer
Pull myself out of this emotional mud when I’m stuck…
Fool myself into believing I just don’t give a fuck.

Men claim they want me
But I can’t trust a try
Cuz there’s still no one here to hold me when I cry…
And I
Just
Want the world to stop.

Pause for a moment
Let me catch the breath that keeps escaping
I’m scratching and scraping at my throat
Struggling for air
I’m choking on love that was never even there...

He said, he said, he said
They said
They lied
Sentiments were implied
I tried to separate fact from fiction
But mind fucking friction
Caused their words to converge upon my mind
Forming a topiary garden of pretty little lies

I could have handled the truth.