For Being Brave

For being brave...it don't come easy. No it don't.
Bleeding out still I am, seeping out from the blue lines
and these eyes, they are incapable of blinking for more
My laugh lines have caked into stone
I'm sure this is what you're wanting now.

Isn't it?

You tell me, love. You tell me.
Just, for once, pretend no one's there
and only us two here stands
and that the dead grass are green meadows
would that make it any easier
for you to speak?

Being brave, it don't come easy, no.
And my silence works the way pictures do.
I ain't saying anything, but I couldn't have put it better.
Aren't you getting me at all?
If I love you at all, everything should be crystal clear to you.

Oh quit being so brave love. I'll sweeten up some of your hurting, if only you let me.
But those warm times have long disappeared - neither of us are the same persons we used to know.
I'm paying the price of being brave, or keeping pride. Label it how you want.
I want to take the easy way out, this time.
I'm done hurting inside, just as I'm done laughing out non-laughter.
Let's not be so brave now. The price is altogether too high.
For while I am more than halfway there, you have yet to move.
You have yet to move.

And I, I'm done with my falling. Falling over you and over my head.
This has evolved to being entirely overrated, for both our sakes.
Stay brave, love. Will it. Want it. Until it chokes you up, that you can't help move.
Maybe then you'll fall into me.
Maybe then I can brave myself again.

First draft: November 21st, 2010. Revised: November 22nd, 2010. By: Hanna.A.

*this poem..or potential set of lyrics is inspired by Brothers At Sea's "For Being Brave". I would suggest however, that you read the above while listening to "We're Alive" by Brothers At Sea or their "This Time, I Swear I Mean It". It sets the background better methinks. :p

I can't wax lyrical enough about this band. They're soo...talented. Bridgingtheverses.com describes them as The Fray meets Jimmy Eat World. In some ways, I think that's true. But I would say they are more Jimmy Eat World and Brightwood.

***photo disclaimer: the photo ain't mine and I ain't using it for profit. I got it off Brothers At Sea's FB.

The Only One

I guess today is about reminiscing some of my old writings. After the post below, I came across this other poem slash song I wrote last year, on January 26th. To date, I think it's probably the most intense and romantic piece I've ever written...I'm quite proud of this one actually. Especially since I've never actually experienced what I wrote myself...teehee :D

Anyway, it's called "The Only One". Hope anyone reading will find it to their liking too!

"The Only One"

I can still smell you on my skin
and breathe you in on my pillows
I can still feel your heat with my sheets
as I pull them back to keep your warmth

I am reluctant to get up
I want to linger in these messy tangles
Wait for you to walk through the door
It can't come too soon
You can't come too soon

You were so still as I watched you sleep
so unguarded, and so open

Yet I knew the moment that you wake
you'll close off and renew your walls
and I would smile and tease you for it
at the most you'll call out my name
in that way of yours
that's never failed to bring me down
to my knees

And I know you don't see in my eyes
what you were so sure would be there
you don't see in my gaze
what you've convinced yourself to see
when will you ever realize
that I'm not the one
I won't be the one
who shuns you away even when you're hurting the most
and don't just don't want to be alone
I know you don't really want to be alone

So when will you give in, when will you take it for real
that
I am not leaving
You can push me away
and I'll just run back, come after you
because you're the only one
who gets me
you're the only one
who sees me as I am
and you know that I'm
the only one
who sees you this close
the only one who you let see you this close.

Face

Came across this poem/song I wrote about...two years ago. It feels quite...apt at the moment. So I thought I'd share it here.

"Face"

I am two and twenty years of age as of months before
but have I become any wiser
and even if I have would I know?
How would I know
and how can anyone tell

The truth is often always nothing but lies
narrowed down to its barest of forms
that don't we all have, encountered?
one way or another

I need to get to the bottom
of this mess, oh all this mess
haven't done me any favors
save to confuse and frustrate
the hell out of my being
I don't want this to turn into
another of those things we could just
throw away and forget

I've never known silence to be this still
the lack of voices is damning
is coldly haunting
If rain were to fall on my head, as of right now
would I feel
it drop?
would I feel
its pressure?
and would I feel myself getting wet
because
I haven't been breathing for the longest time

The air that passes through my lungs exist
only so that I don't decay
and the impact of the bright sun
I haven't felt
It's never been warm or light in here
for ages and I
haven't been what you call alive
for sometime now
so I'll think it's wise to sleep some more
slip into these dreams where I
can at least escape from all the
bitter and the unknown
I don't want to face
No I don't ever want to face.

Remiss thoughts

it's a distance that no one would admit to creating
in maintenance of each separate holding and
in persistent effort to hang on to hidden interests
the pillars are that which surrounds unprosaic
a few tete-a-tetes to ease the stiffness in the air
a somewhat unconvincing gesture to ease and lay bare
all that is pounding non-stop at our heads
and I am nowhere near to understanding
nor do I seek to release the truth out of you
I just thought you would be considerate and knowing
mayhap expectations are not akin to rightful wanting
so while reading the signs and keeping up with the time
running as the currents try to pull me back into the
unsteady waters
unclear weather that
the captain is left clueless to navigate
and the ship is heading for a sinking, unknown though
perhaps not uncared for.

to kill or live with it

the mangy maniac spits and splutters
a braggadocio of a fart
creepy crawling tangling weaving
silly webs of confused brainstorming
thunder boils and seeps silently in
stirring anger wrath included
curses sworn with pleasure thrown
the mangy maniac in blisfull unaware
is ignorant, empty bottled, full of crock
that the want to rise and stuff whole dock
only so mangy maniac opens eyes and unlocks
only to find the want in nothing but in mock

Reflections

the vision staring back at me
through the especial glass allows
and allows me not to see
truth
the eyes would only take to view
that which is penetrable to the mind
for we often would refuse to see
what to others is simple clarity
possibly illness,
political corrections,
or blatant rejection
that serves as platonic grounds
for why we are
who we are.
Excuses stretch only for a time
and white lies only go so far
what was once the only thread
has branched out, is imbued and
imbibed
by all the others.
and as fingers touch cold surface
wanton fleetings seep in and out
pondering chances,
pondering imponderables,
where question marks floats and out numbers
the little of faith and reason that is left
to be replaced by growing doubt
and restless fear
that efforts to block out and repel
proves both futile and immaterial.
For black on white is
white to black
and either prospect's dark
and so it will remain thereafter
unless we take the plunge
and brave ourselves
for what is yet to come.