Thanks...hehe, I'll try not to be so shy anymore. :)

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Rest,
little girl,
rest...
though I know it's tough
to endure the night alone,
it's the night that provides the only escape
from the harsh reality
that each day has brought upon you.

(Rest...
rest...)

Now is your time to fly away,
to heal,
as I tuck you in
and sing softly to you
(to myself),
as I take your wounds
(my wounds - they hurt so bad)
and bandage them so carefully.

Cry,
just cry
yourself to sleep...
don't be afraid to send your heartache
into the wetness of tears on your pillow.
Do not be ashamed
to release your soul -
the one companion
that has been there through it all.

I'd give anything to say
that tomorrow comes
a better day...
but that I do not know.
All I can offer
is my promise
to always dream and pray and hope...

beautiful. I love the perpectives. I like how you keep the feeling so calm, despite the obvious pain and sadness, like everything is alright, yet at the end you admit that you don't know what will happen, but that you can always hope. I love the message. Great poem. : )

Thanks so much...

Your interpretation skills are to be envied. :)

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Steph:

All I wanted to say it's that you do never stop amazing me.

I could say many things about your poems, using those strange big words you use to make comments on poems... but I.. well, I don't know well how to use them... all I can say, and I truly mean it... it's that your poetry is nothing more and nothing less than wonderful.

The way you use words, which words you use, the style with what you put them together... do only make amazing pieces... that leave me with no words... just with the knowledge that you have certainly touched my soul with each poem.

Whatever you're writing about, everybody can say that you put your soul into your writings, and as there's no other way for it to be... the results are beautiful pieces of you...

I've been reading again every poem that you've posted... and I feel like if they're a puzzle... each one leads me to, little by little, getting to know better your soul... like in some I feel your sadness as writing it, or I think I can know what you felt... and then, even though I'm not that bright... I see beyond the words, and I get restored my hope... you restore my hope.

As Axe has said... you despite the fact that in your poems can be seen the pain inside... in all of them it's also always light... hope.

I want you to never stop writing, and never stop sharing your poems with us, 'cause then you'd be taking out that beautiful thing that always shines through each moment of the life, no matter that you can think around you is only darkness.... with your poems you show us the light that shines from you, in your own life... but, at least I, I take it to myself too... and I hold to you and to your light, you know it...

you said it there...



You're beyond talented Steph... you can make a difference in other people... you touch people's feelings with your own emotions ... Please never stop doing it...

I love you

Wow...Euge...

I can't even begin to explain how much your post means to me... *tears*

See, when I write, I do have hopes that it is able to help others in some way, but I never really know if it will work or not...you don't know how happy it makes me to hear that it is helping.

Just...thank you. Thank you for reading...thank you for listening...thank you for being there.

I love you too...so much.

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i love you.
thats all i can think of to say about how your writing makes me feel.

Thank you...just thank you...

Thanks to everyone who gives their time in reading this thread still...

Your undying support means the world to me.

*hugs kirsty*

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Lately I've been working on a new kind of project. You may notice a sort of "pattern" between this poem and my last one, and maybe even further works I'll add. There's just so much more that I need to get out that I kept pushing back and ignoring, I realized. And I want to heal.



The Garden

Dancing carelessly
beneath the endless comfort
of the garden sun,
fragile body floating (warm)
against the breeze...
leaving handprints all over everything,
is that child, me.

The flowers smell their best
when things grow dark,
when chill creeps out of corners
all around.
The blades of grass
still tickle softly in my mind,
small feet squirming
young and blind.

When inviting hands
turn into monster's claws,
blood dripping from
the fingers (from myself),
flowing down
into my pretty garden flowers,
newly tainted
with cold reality,
never to be washed away.

Blindfold tight around my face,
hands secured behind my back
(another use for a pillowcase),
no gentle hands to guide me through
this never-ending
darkness.

But in my mind
I see the butterflies,
gliding smoothly to my flowers
(pretending they are clean again),
trying to ignore the pain
reflected upon my body,
to imprison myself within
(I cannot let it in).

Dancing through the garden rain,
body dripping wet and cold,
though somewhere hopeful essence brings
warmth to heart and soul.




Please take this blindfold from my eyes...




(You can't leave this child
by herself
alone in the dark
forever....)

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OMG!

OMG!!

OMG OMG OMG

that was so amazing. just amazing

*cries*

amazing