Category: Poetry

Message in a Bottle

With shaking feet, she stood her ground,
As anxious thoughts tore at her mind.
She wouldn’t back down, not right now,
Not when the sea was there, unbound.

For all that she could do right now,
The only way to ease her mind,
Was hope that her fast-scribbled words
Would reach another shore, somehow.

She’d written down her burning love,
Confessed she had her only sin,
And now, no longer bottled up,
She could entrust it to the sea.

Her message—words of timeless love,
Her messenger—the unknown sea,
Her heart—a spring of blossomed hope,
Her feet—sinking into the sand.

Her trembling fingers touched the words,
Her eager hand sealed them inside
The safest of the ships there was,
A bottle. And a kiss goodbye.

White-crested waves would carry it
To that one shore where it would find
Another beating heart—all hers,
Forever and always: her Love.

– Patricia

The Love We Think We Deserve

On a peaceful summer night,
We lay in the soft green grass
And looked at the stars above,
Chatting with utmost delight.

Then, you did something so strange,
Tried to take my hand in yours.
This was new to me. Confused,
I pulled back. Awkward it felt.

You were hurt, but hid your pain,
I—surprised—just laughed and talked,
And we chatted cheerfully,
Walking on dangerous quicksand.

I knew it would lead to that,
We both knew what we had meant,
I was shocked—wasn’t prepared
To accept your love so fast.

To accept your love at all,
Come to think of it. It’s true…
Why would you love me for me…?
When I know my every flaw…

I cannot accept your love,
Your affection is too much.
I feel smothered and ashamed.
I’m not worthy of your touch.

Let me be and fake away
All this cheerfulness—my shield.
Let us stay just as we are.
Let my smiles hide my pain.

For I once heard that we can
Accept just the type of love
Which we think that we deserve,
And I’m not worthy of yours…

Let me be just as I am,
Let us be just as we are,
Chatting, looking at the stars.
I am not worthy of more…

– Patricia

Escapism

We turn to colourful screens
Which show the lives we want,
To lend us a helping hand
In forgetting the lives
We have out here.

We drink in all that fantasy,
And, wanting to escape
Our cruel realities,
The static and the pain,
We choose to dream.

We let them choose our dreams
For us. We yearn for all those lies,
Because what else is left
For us to do?
Confront reality?
Oh no…
That hurts too much already…

But are they truly lies?
They’re better when it comes
To comforting us.
This love
Cannot be fake.

The warmth we feel inside,
That they give us,
Is the only one we have.
Outside, there’s suffering,
Inside, there’s suffering,
But not there.
That’s where colour is.

So, we choose to escape.

– Patricia

Reinventing Herself

Regardless of the trials,
Regardless of the sadness,
She found that she could still
Survive and thrive within.

Regardless of the dark times,
Regardless of her weakness,
She still enjoyed the times
When storms would play her chimes.

Regardless of her struggles,
Regardless of the dark thoughts,
She still lived in the now,
With mindfulness endowed.

Regardless of the pain and
Regardless of her thinking,
She found herself anew:
Still breathing, unsubdued.

– Patricia

Misfit

The quiet girl was sitting at the window,
Gazing into the darkness of the night.
Only the ballads of the chirping crickets
Were to be heard under the pale moonlight.

She sought to find her peace—away from others,
While cheerful voices chatted endlessly.
But she was strange, silent and always awkward,
Never herself in their vicinity.

So, there she was, staring into the distance
At what could be her true welcoming home.
The darkness mirrored clashing thoughts and feelings,
As restless shadows conquered her—deformed.

Reality was crushing her entirely,
Weighing her down—her spirit growing weak…
It pained her greatly: knowing that she wasn’t
Just brave enough to not care or to leap.

She stepped over the window frame, deciding
To be one with the quiet of the night.
Velvety arms—the ever-growing darkness
Embraced her fully. The hour of midnight.

The ghostly moon, the pallor of the window.
That’s all there was. But out there, in the night,
A weeping willow could be seen. The misfit
Had found her home. Reborn. Forever white.

– Patricia

In My 20s

“I’m in my 20s and I don’t know
What I am doing with my life!”
I cry out in the endless storm,
As boisterous winds silence my cries.

I’m at a crossroads. Endless paths
Await ahead, to my left and right,
I can’t go back to how it was,
I need to choose. Time’s running out.

Others have long ago surpassed
Me, who awaits here, still confused,
Still undecided. Future, past
And present. What will I pursue…?

I must decide on who I am,
And find my own place in this world…
I’m scared of what awaits ahead,
Of the uncertainty of it all…

I wait and wait, the hourglass
Keeps pouring sand and never stops.
These years will pass and so will I…
The clock is ticking… My 20s… Only once…

– Patricia

Heart of Stone

Right. Oh, yes, the same old question: “Why are you always so guarded?”
Always from the very people who have let me down. Discarded
Every time when I dared think that they would truly be there for me
When I dared ask—and so seldom—for their help. Oh, right, naive me.

Got it. Lesson learned, no worries. Won’t happen again. You promised
You would be right there—supportive. Sceptical, at first, I doubted
All those promises and, fearing that they were just empty, shallow,
I did not dare let my guard down and have hope. No real value.

And wasn’t I right to do so. Look what actions have now spoken
Louder than your meaningless words which I fell for, which reopen
All the painful memories of every time I’ve been let down and,
Thus, my heart learns once again that stone trumps over once red heartbeat.

– Patricia

My Story—Part II

I’d given up the wishes regarding my own story
And I thought I’d at least be the person I had bettered,
That’s all that I still wanted: to still have my core values,
Which I’d attained through hardships and years of self-improvement.
 
I thought that I’d at least have the old me to fall back on,
Since I had tried and failed to face so many fears.
It seems, though, that I’m meant to experience oblivion
Whenever I’m about to define my new-found features.
 
Forget what I had wanted—I’ve lost touch with my true self,
And now I’m in a daze and can’t seem to find my way back.
I call out in the tempest, but all my cries are muffled…
The teller of my story has long ago been silenced…

– Patricia

Whispers in the Wind

I first heard them when it was night
And I’d grown weary of the struggles,
And just when I’d given up the fight,
I heard a whisper like no other.

Melodious and tender words
Made their way through the endless darkness,
Caressed my ears and I immersed
Myself in their most calming promise.

The winter wind had brought them here
And carried them on wings of stardust.
The moon had gifted them with light
To soothe and ease the soul till sunrise.

And in the peaceful winter night,
I knew I’d found my peace, my freedom.
I rose my eyes and saw the moon
So quiet and serene in her kingdom.

And in the darkness of the night,
I only heard the soothing whispers,
I only saw the phantasmal light
Of She who’d sent me peace in winter…

– Patricia

To All My Loved Ones…

I wish that I could be a better version
Of the reflection that I’m looking at,
A better human, oh, a better version
Of the dark eyes staring right back
At me.

I wish I could support you, whom I treasure,
I wish that I could have much better words,
Better reactions and much better gestures
To comfort you when you need it the most…
I wish…

I wish I knew the right time when to hug you
And when to let you be just by yourself…
My timing’s not the best and this has harmed you…
I’m sorry for not doing better… I’ll suppress
My self-pity…

I wish I could express with words what I am thinking,
But words have failed me almost every time,
And I say things which sound so superficial…
To my own mind I’ve let them be confined,
Without their real shape and meaning…
My regrets…

I wish… I wish… I wish I could do better
And offer you the comfort and support
Which you deserve… I’m sorry I am lacking…
I wish… I’m sorry… You deserve,
Oh, so much more…

– Patricia