The Pit I Made

It's so quiet.
It's been so lonely here.
In this pit where I lay, the one I've been digging for years.
I forgot about light long ago, I can't even remember it.
I wouldn't recogonize it if I saw it again.
I've been looking down and looking back so much.
I've forgotten how to look up to find light.
I've been pretending so long that I believe the lie I made.
Now, I sit alone in my filth, slowly dying without a sound.
Down in the depths of the pit I made.

Tell me lies

Please, tell me I'm wrong.
Say I've made a mistake.
Say that you would never do anything like that.
Tell me I've been misinformed.
I don't care if it's a lie.
I just can't handle this truth.
Just lie with me a bit longer.
Just let me pretend that we can move on from this.
I don't care if it's not true.
Just, please, tell me I'm wrong.

Wait.

I've never been patient, no one likes to wait.
But it seems like that's all I seem to do.
I wait.
for love, for salvation.
 Wait for my life to start, for pieces to fall into place.
 I just wait, and hope, and dream.
Waiting.
But like I said, I've never been patient.

The Storm Passing Through (Drip)

Raindrops fall, splash, and drip.
My heart feels the same.
I fell so hard for him, thinking he would catch me.
Then, I splashed, like crashing into reality.
The drops of my heartbreak hitting those close to me.
Now, here I am, the storm is over and I drip.
Slowly, painfully, praying that soon I will be lifted up again.
Drip, drip, drip.
The sound of it echoing through my empty life.
He lefted with the storm, he was just passing through.
Drip, drip, drip.
Please, I need the sunshine, someone to lift me up.
To lift me off the ground of my heartbreak.
The storm passed through long ago
Now where is my sunshine?
Where is my warmth?
Waiting, waiting, waiting.
Drip, drip, drip.

The Tale of a Knight

There once lived a man who did unimaginable things
He fought witches, wizards, and fairies with wings
He was knighted long ago when knights used to shine
He fought for maidenheads--I only wish they were mine
On a day came a dragon who snorted and spewed
All in all he was a quite the nasty brood
But our knight was scared not, for he had seen worse
He swore it'd meet its end before he was in a herse
There was a great battle, if you could call it that
Before anyone knew it the dragon fell flat
The kingdom rejoiced, for the dragon was slain
But on went our knight on his merry way

The Pages of My Notebook

The pages of my notebook are filled.
Not with poems or stories but with beginnings of them.
I flip through, page by page, counting;
One sentence, two, one, three, two, four, one...
On and on.
I used to fill my notebooks with magic, a princess, true love, romance.
Every page would be covered with words and ideas.
My notebooks used to be full of poetry and creativity.
Now, every page is full of nothing.
I used to pour my heart out on those pages,
but one must first know one's heart before pouring it.
The pages of my notebook used to inspire me with their emptiness like a blank canvas.
Now, they stare back at me, reflecting what I fell inside me.
The page of my notebook are empty.