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Todd Sommerville Nov 2024
The road, a cold and lonely place.
Where a man can feel his heart break and spirit soar in equal measure.
Those long desolate Highways heading west.
Heading  nowhere  into distant mountain ranges that seem always out of reach.
Where do they go, I momentarily wonder, then know, as the road now leads to valleys below.
The ebb and flow,
the high and the low.
That is the road.
Where a man can lose himself,
yet find his soul.
https://youtu.be/KD6dLVRs7DY?feature=shared
This is a link to my newly made you tube channel if anyone is interested
Flipping through a bundle
of identical sheets
I realise there is no difference between us

I, like the sheets
Hover the earth with no specific goal
Waiting for someone to scribble
an endorsement

But no-one comes
Because I am the paper and the ink
My experiences are my art
freely given materials

With which to bless,  beautify and build
When you realise noone is coming to save you
Zelda Nov 2024
Agnostic
wandering temples,  
wondering how the stone still stands—  
cracked and worn,  
weathered by storms,  
by wars,  
by careless hands that pass through.

It’s like a labyrinth you can’t  
exist in—  
feel the hedges,  
understand the spirits,  
quiet the noises,  
balance the highs and lows.

The soul—what is it?  
A natural remedy is still just a remedy.  

A waste of time.  
We both know it—  
it’s not meant to be.

Pragmatic
never believed in happily ever after;  
you did the math—  
and it ends with a soft sound,  
the closing of the temple door,  
a coin flip
We hit the ground.

If I had a nickel for every  
“Meeting you was destiny,”
oh, but was it?  
If I had a nickel for every  
“You deserve to be happy,”
oh, but do I?

We’re two sides of the same coin,  
a dream, a folktale,  
a close call.  
We both know it—  
it’s not meant to be
We hit the ground.

Skeptic
All the sharp turns,  
all the downhill spirals,  
all the A.M. conversations—  
you tell me,  
"We'll get through it"

You held me with your voice,
But the edge cuts

Oh, the way you swore
“We’ll get it right this time.”

I’d rather  
mix ***** with water,  
enough to turn my blood to wine—  
Let's just not debate our religion  
in temples.

There is no solace
When we're agnostic, pragmatic, skeptics

We both know it—  
just another close call,  
wasn’t meant to be.

I only wanted to know your love,  
not wander through temples.
Cassandra Nov 2024
I have been having this feeling
for a week now,
every day I go to my uni classes,
everytime I see my friends.
Everytime I wander alone in the hallways,
Everytime I stay still and stand,
it follows around, it has been days.

Everytime I talk,
it comes out as broken sentences.
Everytime I talk,
It comes out as mumbles.
I should be able to do it-
I should be able to talk,
But I can't get myself to speak.

I talked to my mom right now,
I'm already questioning half the things I said.
Why am I critical, what is it I dread?

I need to meet a friend next week,
I am already planning the things to speak,
Making a list of things to say.
I am already nervous about how it is going to be,
Must be me, it can't be like that with everybody.

Anytime I have to go meet
someone, or even pick them up
from a place they decided,
I'm more scared than excited.

"What if I accidentally stand on the other side, waiting"
"What if I wait too long and everyone stares"
"What If I'm not able to find them, what if I look lost"
"What if I am not confident about my walk"
"What if I am not able to crack through the uncomfortable silence"
"What if I look awkward, what if they get bored"
It is seven days apart, it's already in my head.
What if I just stayed home instead?
"What if I embarrass them?"
"What if they feel ashamed of knowing me"
"What if I am just the awkward friend"
He is a good friend, his actions push my doubts away
But the fear in me, it decides to stay.

I try to act all cool, "I don't care about it"
There is no "cool", There is no "it"
What am I hiding? I don't know still.

Is it something that will ever be fixed?
Will it always be like that?
Where did it come from?
Where will it take me?
Will it push people away?
Make them judge me?

Other people can do it, some even better than others.
They create clear sentences,
out of the fog of their thoughts and frenzies.

I stay in the corner, quiet and hidden.
Should I even go out? Make my words be spoken?
The idea immediately makes me dread,
My shortcomings and how I don't feel like I'm normal,
I feel so different, I feel so separate.
I fear I might be wrong, but what I dread even more
is the feeling of being truly isolated and different
"What if I am really just correct?"
sometimes I can't speak as confidently because I scrutinise a lot of things before even saying them. This makes me hold back a lot. So weird because I never had social anxiety growing up.
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