Short post.

I am running out of ideas and may have to re-think the commitment to write on this blog every single day.

Lately, I have been resorting to posting poems, I have written quite awhile ago.

Once those are exhausted am not sure if I will have something to write about every day.

I do write often and will post frequently, but everyday seems to be an impossible commitment.

There was a time I could have posted about depression every single day, so I guess this is a testament to the fact I am getting better.

So, everyone have a good day and if I do not “see” you tomorrow, I will real soon!

Alone in pain.

It is hard to see the sorrow in your eyes to hear it in your voice.

To be so helpless, to have no words, to not know what to do!

How hard to know the pain you bear, a loss that no amount of time repairs.

And here I stand like an intruder watching from the outside.

The sorrow alone is yours, the anguish, fears, and regrets.

And here I stand just like a mute and cannot speak a word.

How I wish to be instantly transformed to one who knows just what to say.

Maybe, then I could take away the sorrow in your voice and erase the fear there in your eyes.

Instead, I just stand aloof, paralyzed, silent, and helpless.

The Girl I was.

Sometimes I see her, a sad shy girl.

But it is only a memory

Sometimes, I see her sad down cast face and long to hold her.

Sometimes, when I try, I’ll see her cry and long to wipe the tears away.

Sometimes ,when I am imagining, I think of things to tell her.

Sometimes I find myself saying things like; “You are worth a lot! Why can’t you see?”

But, she cannot see or hear me.

For she only lives in my memory, now.

Sometimes, when I’m lost in time, upset about the past…

I see her face again and mourn the girl I was.

Wall Flower.

I wrote this poem when I was 16.

It is very short, but I hope you enjoy it all the same.

Cobwebs grow

No one sees

The flower on the wall

Blending into the wallpaper

She sits there all alone.

Hand Slapping.

Why do I get hurt by such little things?

Will I ever get over wanting people to like me?

Being crushed when someone I admire puts me down?

They make a careless remark, probably not even aware of how it affects me.

Will I ever stop being a child?

A child who’s whole day can be ruined by one hand slap?

Most of the day is good and sunny-but that one hand slap can make it all crash down around my feet.

I am not tough, I am too sensitive, but those traits also make me empathetic, sweet-tempered, loyal, and kind.–That is good isn’t it?

I am silly and naive at times and unsure of what impression I am making on others.

I have made my share of mistakes but so has everyone, so why not be kind?

I can not bear the thought of, even unintentionally, hurting someone’s feelings.

Just because something is said in  a jest, with a smile, or a laugh doesn’t make it “cool.”

I have gone too far myself and I want to be forgiven

So, I must forgive as well.

I will get over “it” as I always do, but I will be more cautious, that is my way.

A good hand slapping always makes me shrink back a little.

Still Re-Inventing Self.

Since I have decided to just be who I am –I am so much happier!

I still bumble…..a lot actually, but I can laugh at it now!

Most of the time!

I tried too long to be someone who would please everyone and ended up pleasing no one!(including myself)

Decided  it would be far better to become someone with whom  I  could be pleased with and guess what?

People like me a heck of a lot better now, then when I tried to become what I thought would please.

It is not without realization that the few sour pusses who use to put up with me are going to drop me like a rock.

They say misery loves company, but it only likes miserable company.

And boy was I miserable!

It is hard for me to believe I am even the same person!

I use to shy away from people and hide-now I love getting to know new people.

People, who help you out, lift you up, forgive you when you mess up, appreciate a kindness, and those who make me laugh-I love to laugh!

I am so less judgmental, I may not approve of your choices, but show me you got a good heart underneath it all and I want to get to know you.

Before, I would not have stuck around long enough to see your true heart and for that I am ashamed.

My journey is not complete it never will be.

I will never arrive at perfection, not possible.

I do not want to be anything more but a flawed, bumbling, fellow human being who keeps on trying and improving.