I write because I have to

I write because I have to Poems

Apparent to none. Transparent to some.
Thin like the skin of those who pose as friends to begin
but end like chameleons
when they sway in the wind
...

In the darkness damp
and wet
form tears that fell to quell what's left.
No more to dwell
...

I'm not sure where to begin
but I'm pretty sure where this all will end -
lost then found, then lost again
more lost then the start when hearts played no part
...

Pounding away my problems
is how I often solve them.
Grinding them to dust
and blowing them in the wind
...

She said hurt me and it hurt me
but I did it because I loved her,
at least that’s what I told myself, but I didn’t believe that and neither did she.
We just met three hours ago -
...

6.

...glazing over my life
like sheets of ice
melting me before pelting me
with harrowing insights.
...

The cherry reflection of her smeared lipstick on the glass danced like fire
in a kindred colored wine.
Sad sips of sherry
In the distance, the setting sun ablaze on the horizon’s edge;
...

The fear of consequence was a fence
to lock me in and block my confidence
and make me feel incompetent.
I realize that it's all internal
...

The tide washed out in his mind
and all that remained were glistening grains of sand.
Slick and glossy like tiny shards of crushed glass.
Tiny, individual thoughts being pulled back to the sea,
...

10.

Riding whispers, she said to me
ghosts of the past were never meant to be
more than lessons learned...eventually.
...

Gray days made silver
like linings of clouds
silver then bronzed in the shadows of doubt
slivers of sun revealing the past
...

Long rows of pines,
white mountains of snow,
like the thin lines of blow
that they sniffed like snow drifts two hours ago.
...

Shattered looks in your eyes,
I was surprised to find
a broken person crying inside.
Pieces of a life crushed,
...

Am I chasing dreams or chasing ghosts
How do I clear the stare of the past
without locking eyes with what I want most
Still guarding my thoughts when I sleep
...

silence is safe
but everything about you screams danger
your faces betray you
and I'm not on your side
...

The weight of the pressure was unrelenting
ribs on the verge of break
I need a break, an escape
from the ache that I am circumventing
...

He told her his heart was kevlar and his skin bulletproof.
But the proof lied within when without her he'd begin
to unravel, crack.
And despite the fact that he lacked her now, it was all in the past
...

How can it be that I see my way in shades of gray between the lines
are reasons why write and wrong flow through my veins
and all my mind can say stems from the pens
that stray from my mind like the thoughts from my brain
...

Destinies of spiders -
recluses and widows,
lives weaved like webs free
How did we end up together?
...

My fears, primal
vital as tears like the years that pass in blue
in subdued hues of sky,
thundering by
...

I write because I have to Biography

Sylvia Plath said, 'We stayed at home to write, to consolidate our outstretched selves.' I write for the opposite reason. Every moment I spend in my mind, summoning words is a moment spent stretching. Sometimes it's a physical stretch. Sometimes it's a mental stretch. When I write, it's me untying the knot. It's me releasing the tension. Some of what I write are just the summarized transcripts of conversations between my heart and my mind. Sometimes I write because I want to. Other times I write because I must. Brent Weeks said, 'for a man who denies what is essential to his being is a man who drills holes in the cup of his own happiness.' More often than not, writing makes me happy. But more often than that, it makes me feel complete.)

The Best Poem Of I write because I have to

Backstabbers: Poetic Vengeance

Apparent to none. Transparent to some.
Thin like the skin of those who pose as friends to begin
but end like chameleons
when they sway in the wind
changing colors within.
Under the guise of true lies they pull wool over your eyes
and its never really clear how near
or far they plan to stand
there hand in hand
and walk and hear you talk
all to stalk and strike with spite when the time is right.
Claiming alliance and feigning compliance
snaring at you while wearing costumes,
dressed to impress with intent to consume.
Leading you down the path of doom
and they're only content when you're lamenting your gloom.
Beguiling smiles meant to mask empty words,
empty slurs on forked tongues,
poisoned verbs are the preferred weapon of choice
of a venomous voice.
And their disarming swagger conceals their daggers
waiting until your back is turned to stab you with their lies that burn
Try to discern their false concern
from the fact that they lack the nack to say what they mean
in the midst of the mist, their true colors are clear like flat screens
because their actions are just distractions and reactions intentional
and they use deceit to appear sweet when they're really one dimensional
masters of fiction, their addiction is contradiction
flipping pages in your face,
going through their inventory of stories
all for the glory of bringing you down and claiming your disgrace
The closest in your entourage could be wearing camouflage
But how do you tell your foes from your friends anyway?
only time will tell...
but I'd rather take shot in chest from a foe than a knife in the back from my best friend any day.

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