"Endless Sleep" - Poetry

[Rebecca Clare Smith]

These are mostly from a while ago when I was pretty depressed.

Snippet

I could cry a for a thousand years
But I'll just cry a thousand tears
And hope you'll come back to me soon...

[Rebecca Clare Smith]

The Secrets Were Spilling at the Seams

It doesn't seem to matter
It doesn't seem to work
And no one seems to care
No matter how you hurt...

The wallflower is dead
As she clings to the wall
Now her heart's made of lead
And she can't help but to fall

But it doesn't matter
And it really won't work
To try to revive her
No matter what she hurt

'Cause we're all breaking
Down deep inside
The whole world is shaking
'Cause of what we try to hide.

J...

[Rebecca Clare Smith]

Alas, it was not always so?

Deep red poppies grow
By bubbling silver streams,
Golden sunlight creeps low,
Fair lambs in pure dreams
Alas, not always so;
Littered streets and alleyways green,
Benches and parks insatiably abused,
Burglars and snatchers escape unseen
Police watch unamused;
Alas, not serene.
Cream-white clouds softly float,
Beaches calm in silver light,
Old, oaken and proud sails the boat,
Something fresh, living green and bright,
Alas, not afloat,
Countryside slowly fading,
Blaring horns are a common sound,
Smoke filled buildings shading
The beautiful land around,
Alas, it is raiding,
The beautiful North Yorkshire
Where honeysuckle flows
And looks for garden hire,
The sleek green and blacks of crows
Don't spread towns like fire.
Alas, it was not always so...

[Rebecca Clare Smith]

Messed up

Feeling like disappearing;

What more can I say?
Isn't it obvious;
You hate me anyway?

My head's in a mess.
My tail's in a spin.
Wanting more, giving less -
Why'd I let him in?

Breathing hurts, damage done,
Leave me all alone
You've had your fun

What is this joke?
This foolish life?
Where ruling nations
Fail from strife?

And the stuff on my lips...
What does it say?
I'm not bleeding again for you
No... not today

And you don't give up
You see it through
You take that cup
Drink witches brew

[Rebecca Clare Smith]

Living Isn't Being Alive...

You thought you were dead.
Didn't realise, 'til they shot you in the head
That living isn't really life
That bloodshed is a willing wife.

When your soul is breaking
The sun still smiles,
When your heart is flaking
From all those trials.

And it's a cold world
When wrapped inside, snow keeps you furled,
Calling to the icy tide
To take you out for one last ride.

And you try to plead
And you try to beg
But pain was freed
And hope left dead.

But bloodshed is a willing wife
She keeps you still, while she holds the knife.
So she cuts the line;
Your blood spills like wine-

But how'd you know if you're dead
When living isn't being alive.
When everything your mother said
Was when life did not deprive-

But bloodshed is a willing wife
She stabs you 'til your blood is rife
Dripping off the pantry knife
Spelling out the end of 'life'.

Her heart is lead
Her eyes are black
She wants you dead
So have a heart attack.

You thought you were already dead
'Til they shot you in the head
And made you see, for the first time,
Where before your sight was filled with grime,
That living isn't being alive.

[Rebecca Clare Smith]

Spider's Web

Crystaline threads of silver light
Weaved webs of midnight delight
They dance amongst the boughs and leaves
Spinning threads and darning their weaves.

[Rebecca Clare Smith]

Disjointment

You hold yourself still.
So it's no longer felt.
Until you kill yourself. Inside.
But all it does is wreck your heart.
And hurt your head
And make you wish that you were dead.
I creeps in and steals your soul,
Scars your sight and burns a hole
Right through 'til you can take no more,
'Til you think it Nature's law.

[Rebecca Clare Smith]

W.ondering W.ho W.anders

Darkness consumes you, like night;
Though, with force, it wretches and spits,
Holding your form close and tight
Suffocating your very wits

It hears not one of your pleas
Your choking calls for, "Mercy!
"Mercy! I beg!" with no release-
"Upon my very soul; mercy!"

Every sailor in every storm,
In whirling seas and frothing form
With sound of sails tearing, torn,
Speaks naught and in stillness looks on.

They do not hear the stolen words
Plucked from frantic fumbles of lips
They do not hear the broken words
That fall from travelling fingertips

Upon these very keys
These words that no one sees
The abyss of the internet,
Every user's sail set
To navigate endless seas
Written like thoughts on a breeze...

[Rebecca Clare Smith]

Take. Take. Take.

Take my heart and make me whole again.
Take these words and smooth away their fire.
Take away these tears and lose this pain.

'Cause I still need you to hold me tight,
To hear your voice throughout the night.
And when the sun does set, I wonder why,
We ever had to say goodbye.

So, why did it all have to end?
Or was I wrong, was it all pretend?
And even now, I'm aching for you
And even now, I'm breaking for you.

[Rebecca Clare Smith]

Second Chance

So if I gave it all to you
What would you do?
I can remember the last time
I can remember the torn rhyme
It hurts all the more
When I know I adore...

It's the burning pain
It's that blood red stain
You pulled from my heart again

Should I give you this second chance;
This extra lance...
To tear through my heart?
Break me apart?