I’m on a poetry kick, reading some of my shit from high school has me feeling rather melancholy and also extremely glad that it was indeed just a phase. Most of my poetry from that time in my life is very dark and knife edged, but most feelings were fleeting, and I just chose to give them voice. I’ve always been good with writing my feelings out.  Talking about them out loud? Not so much.

I also tend to rhyme a lot. Sorry about that

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A greenish envy that consumes me inside,

leaves me lonely and ready to cry.

Sparks had flown once before,

now I feel I must close my door.

I loved you more than you could ever know,

and in my heart you love did grow.

Remembrance of the past is all I can now see

for you gave me strength and now have set me free

a systematic ray of light, and coldness from an aching tear

has shown me what it was to cry, and contemplate my worth and fear.

A reason of pity, shameless amd I, about the cold window pane

leaves me hanging from the edge, on my soul you did leave a stain.

Sweetly love, a time did show, to everyone far and wide

calmly stroll, alone by yourself, no longer in synch in stride

Fading slowly, fading fast, immensly scared, it’s come at last

Stolen from me a precious gift, now my tears are endless,

I am alone, and broken, no longer pure

why must you always break through my door

Reaching out, a shaken hand, sadness looms in dirt and sand,

searching the night, a broken fear, solemn and isolated, where I stand.

impurity, a fortune told, the future is not our song of choice

The chariot of tears, and rivers of black, scars my face of relentless poise.

An undying slay, for I, the slayer of truth, of dreams.

Commanding the death, the toll, the life, though it seems.

Changing spirits of endless contentment, pitiful melancholy eyes of pain.

Streaming down the rusted gutter, peace and love are that of rain.

Screaming through the frozen ice of loneliness, no, do not grieve.

Speak of me through words of denial, this I do believe.

Use the words that can never be spoken, for what is harder to bear than that?

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An original poem by E.R Pierce (back a long fucking time ago)

I wrote this Sonnet in my Junior year of High School… So keep that in mind.

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Time goes by rather slowly in my eyes

waking up in shambles I often find;

Walking hand in hand with death in disguise,

Trampled-the wilted rose of my trite mind.

Withering small, pitiless, is my heart;

Grown cold and weary of love’s suicide,

Paiting you, my beautiful work of art.

Piercing you whole a bright shade of blue tide

Wading through the frigid shallow brine;

To comfort a wounded heart made of steel.

Clumsily carrying a faint old dream of mine

To hold you in my fingers tips and heal–

Each and every misdeed you hold inside;

Grasp my hand, and in me you can confide.

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An original work by E.R Pierce (14 years ago)