A Friend is a Mirror

A friend is a mirror

An image of your better self
Who's there when you have no love
To show you who you really are.

Written 2/16/2004

You're There

When life is wrong,
When I just can't move,
When I don't know how to breathe,
You're there.

That place in your arms
When my head is between your shoulder and chest
Is when everything fits
When breathing comes easier
And I can be me again
And take off all those hats
That get so confusing

And everything is simple
And I can smile
And know that no matter what,
You will always be there
To remind me of why my life is perfect in every way.

My Greatest Fear

I wrote this poem when I was in high school. Wasn't the best time for me. I'm sure many can relate. I thought I'd share this one because it kind of eludes to my last post. I promise all my poems won't be this depressing!

My Greatest Fear
11/18/2004

My world is spinning
Nothing is clear
Who I am is out of sight
Lost in my mistakes

I used to know,
I used to be,
Someone
Now I'm no one

Help is there, I just can't reach it.
I'm just too scared
Of myself.
The mirror is the enemy.

I live for others, not myself.
Everyone thinks I'm fine,
I'm the one that's supposed to be stable.
I'm Indestructible.

No, I'm not.
I need help too.
I need a shoulder, I need a lap.
To cry on.
Doesn't anyone see!

I'm crashing, missing my aim
I'm lost, but know where I am
To be found is my only hope,
But my greatest fear.

Lost in plain sight

Everything is perfect
Everything is wrong
Such happiness
Such Depression
I love my life
I hate myself
I'm in control
Everything is chaotic

Who am I?
Where did I go?
What day is it?
Who is that face I see?
Could it be me?
Me. We. His. Theirs.
Which is which?

I used to know.
I used to be.
Someone. His. Theirs.
I want to be. I love to be.
But who am I?
Where did I go?
I lost me somewhere.
I think I see her, but she's distant

Can I call her?
Will she come?
Is she too young for this body?
Are we different now?
Can we be the same person?
Can we co-exist?

Or do I create another me,
A new me,
One that can hold all these hats,
And be sane. And let the perfection go
Let the anxiety disperse. Let the depression vanish
Let me be me again. Let me be a stronger me.

Latissa. Tissa. Tissy Tiss.
Who who where where.
Create someone new, someone stronger, better, wiser.
Capable.
A warrior. A fighter. A hero. An angel.
Let me be me again.
Only better.

This is my Heart

I started writing poems when I was young. About 6 or 7 years old. I fell in love with the written word, with books and poetry and songs.
I loved that it took you in another world. That these words could bring you back to a memory as if it were present, as if you could taste it and feel it all over again.
I loved that I could spill my heart out on paper and let it exist there when I couldn't let it live inside of me anymore.
I love that it can live, and breathe, and change people. Motivate, uplift, empathize, widen, and effect.
I used to write. I used to be good at it. I used to write a poem without having to try. It was like breathing.

But then something closed that door. It's been stuck.
Something is in the way, and although I have tried to open it, I've been scared to, shying away from what might jump out if I open it, like if it were

Pandora's box.
But the door is creeping open, slowly but surely. I'm not sure what will spill out, but here is where I will open it.
A ray of sunshine and clouds, and music and wind, and flight.
I will begin with a poem I wrote years ago, as a confused teen. I discovered it in and old notebook, and it spoke to me.

Many more poems will follow.

Directions

Does anyone have directions?
Does anyone know which way to go?
My life its so confusing
I don't know which way to turn

I'm a walking contradiction
I serve two masters
My head scream for leadership
But my heart is doomed to rule

Is there a right or wrong?
Or just a choice?
Do things happen for a reason?
Or is it our fault?

This confusion won't settle
There's never enough time
This life should have come with directions
'Cause I'm a blinded Captain without them.