they said it
and its over
i am done
and i am leaving
to a place i can be freely
i am dancing upon
the waves of pains
a single girl forever
unloved
unheard
unknown
unspoken

When my tears dry
And my sobs cease
Do not mistake it for me calming down.
I've simply realised that you cannot hear my screams
And will say everything but the words I need to hear

When my tears stop
And my sobs fall silent
Do not think I'm doing better.
It just means I've changed the locks
And will continue to break where your gaze won't wander

When my tears shatter
And my sobs lose breath
You will hear everything in that silence
For the ending will be laid out before you
In a casket that will echo my story

It’s getting loud—
Can barely hear
I’ve been drowning
In all my tears
Words convincing
They cut like a knife
I’m barely wincing
Another: girl vs. life
It’s my head that’s the problem
It knows what it’s done
I’ve hit rock bottom
And it’s no longer fun
I tried to drown it out
But it’s tattooed in my brain
And it’s making me doubt
And now I’m in pain—
It’s getting loud in here
And I want it to stop

books books books
such a wonderful way to escape
the crisp scent of a fresh book
pages upon pages
drifting into other worlds
so much better than reality
dragons and unicorns and demons
are a better alternative
than the boring normal world
libraries are a comfort
so quiet and filled with books

Selmhem Naise
03/2016

Poetry is so much
more
than many people think it is.
It is
the place
where the battleground of light and dark
makes its  finest stand..

or most pathetic fall.

Poems are not toothpaste,
you cannot squeeze another from the tube at will,
bend the ends of words for one last drop,
inspiration comes in waves
and when it wants to do so, it will stop,
you cannot pick a constant crop,
there are times when the field lies fallow
hiding seeds which may or may not grow
if and when they flower
that is not for us to know,
poets feed on what they find
the harvest of a fertile mind