Death (9-22-1999)
How are you?
Everyday of my life, in your eyes I continue to stair.
All I see each day is contempt, hate, desire, and my own fear.
I am glad that you hate me.
I want you to despise me.
Stay away from me as long as possible, for you don’t like me.
Leave me alone to be in the arms of mother life for as long as possible.
I love mother life.
And I hate you just as you hate me.
Contempt.
Hate.
Despise.
Fear.
Me, of you.
Ah, the volatility of early thought.
I wish I'd written poetry in high school, because it'd be interesting to look back on. I guess I did try to write some lyrics though... now where are those again... rummages in mind who knows?
I like the drawing of the ankh door opening, along with the green/purple/yellow color scheme. Life/nobility/the light that bridges them?
Thank you very much for this great comment. :)
I wrote a lot in my younger years, which evolved into writing songs. I decided to boldly share the writings of my past recently because I think it's psychologically useful content for myself and other young minds. The mature may get a laugh out of them. Our paths are varied, but we share some similar experiences.
I always wanted to write a book though. Started one or two and didn't carry on. The best I've done is creating a short story recently, which I entered into a Halloween share your scare contest to get published in an anthology. I didn't get a reply and should follow up with the holders, but I would want to share it on Steemit too, if allowed or it's not published to a certain copyright holder.
That was lengthy. Thanks again
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