Heavily irradiated historian developing my writing career. You can follow me on Facebook, Twitter, & Instagram. To help me create more content, leave a tip or become a pledged subscriber. I also make stickers, t-shirts, etc here.
I’ve been the last line to many Just another pretty penny A daring glance A lark A shot in the dark A tree that harkens you to rub against its bark
By Atomic Historian2 years ago in Poets
Three bodies floating through reality Circling around a center None dare enter For if any one has full control All falls apart
Waking up to the uncomfortable reality I have no peers Or if I do they’re nowhere near We are all scattered across the earth
It is imperative To remember Suffering is not comparative A loss is a loss No matter how much or little the cost may seem to you
What would life be like if someone got to know us The real us The one inside The one we always hide The child that never grew up
You look down your nose at me in disdain Because to you I’m just here to entertain I give you a fake name and a smile
Meditation is not sitting in a quiet room It is when you stop telling other people the words that you need to hear Its when you stop looking out the window
Entwined in the eerie twilight Cold coming in as it begins Light’s shadow begins to sink in In it, we stare up in the wonder of midday’s night
Life is precious Life is short Write your story We’ve all been knocked off of our emotional bicycles But we will find our way back on in our own time
Pain What is pain? Pain is only feeling the rain On a sunny day Pain is being alone in a crowded room Pain is not having them around
Inspiration can come from anywhere But the voice always comes Sometimes it’s a roar Sometimes it’s a hum Sometimes it comes when I’m too busy with life to write
I’ll never forget You were there for me in my hour of regret Trapped in a cycle of pain Blaming myself for all that had happened
