Maggie Elims

I don’t want it anymore, This type of yearning, this type of longing, Sighing with the mountain breeze, Raining with the sad heavens. I don’t want it anymore, your type of love. The calm before the fucking storm, The rumbles and anger of thunder core. I don’t want it anymore, This kind of shit you put me through, This kind of shit my heart is going through, I don’t want it, I don’t want to. You…

It all comes raining down on me, All too familiar, these hot tears are flowing free, I cannot stand this tranquility, That mask the raging war within the bars of your misperception I beg to call the attention of a freight train equivalent to come crashing through your steel doors of cold words and childish accusations As adults, as youngsters, as learning travellers, One would expect a better…

The sun rises and it’s a new day. Tired feet on the ottoman, Exhausted weights on the bed that pull the soul sticking low. Angry chemicals in the brain as an obvious effect, Kills the peace of the sun rising so gloriously, Angry chemicals in the brain utter words of swords to the other traveler, already drained from previous inner battles and constant beration. Traveler speaks low, voice coarse…

Trespass on the dark diamond grass Steal from the mouth-watering buffet All laid in front of you, lass. Take what you want or surrender and stay  Your thoughts I feed on Til you’re withered and fray. Larks sing that soulful blue tone As he laid you down the canopy Mourning you and weeping A dreadful mess you’ve made Sheer naivete and curiosity, your doom His soul lost, the curse you’ve left Heart…

It’s okay. It’s going to be alright. I’ve been through this before and I can go through it again. The feeling is all too familiar; that hurt, heartache and fear that results to baggy eyes and puffed tear-stained cheeks as I go to sleep. It’s okay. It’s alright. I can put up a subtle fight. |Maggie||February 12, 2015|

Hate me already, won’t you? I’m tired of finding reasons for you to. Shake me up, will you? I need to feel pain inflicted by you. Laugh at my face, come on. I know, deep down, you’re dying to. |Maggie||February 5, 2015|  

One day, I will just disappear. Just like any other fruit of imagination, I was never truly here nor there. Think of me as a ghost that you will never see, hear nor feel. Just a lost soul wandering aimlessly til Divine Creation decides to breathe some life back into me in a couple of decades or millennia. I am a ghost, not really existing, not really here nor there. Nobody actually cares.

In giving us the world, you have given us hell. In the pursuit for perfection, you have broken so much. In the search for truth and honesty, you have ostracized the very things you tear the heavens apart for. I don’t want to feel this anger I don’t want to feel despaired All I want is an alternative solution That would get me, us, out of here.

If I burn up, I wonder if I’d burn the world with me and if it would be thankful I did, or I’d burn alone and it’d be the greatest tragedy that only I will be able to witness.

I consider a lot of things rude like leaving Someone hanging on the other end of the line like “So I was thinking if you’re free Tuesday nights?”… “No, why? “…”Oh okay… I.. ” then the line goes dead and the poor girl is wondering why you asked. ‘Cause deep down she really wanted to see if you liked her back, you didn’t call again and ignored her like how we enjoy a sunny day outdoors despite the…

Why Can’t It?  

​Why can’t it be cloud 11?  Why can’t it be the wings of hope?   Why can’t it be the wind blowing against her cheeks?   Why can’t it be the subtle gestures in the way he speaks her name?   Why can’t it be about the light in her sparkling eyes whenever she goes on her tirade?

One day, I will just disappear. Just like any other fruit of imagination, I was never truly here nor there. Think of me as a ghost that you will never see, hear nor feel. Just a lost soul wandering aimlessly ’til Divine Creation decides to breathe some life back into me in a couple of decades or millennia. I am a ghost, not really existing, not really here nor there. Nobody actually cares.

When I fall truly, the effects will reflect on my daily mood. No, it won’t be a Placebo effect. I won’t shade anything so that it would become true. I haven’t fallen. I only wish I could fall for you.

A pair of shoes walking on a pathways to the forest A pair of shoes eagerly going though tattered and holed, These shoes have gone places, to Italy, to Germany, Spain and Holland, Yet these shoes miss the forests of home, White and dirty, black and sickly, these shoes will navigate through heart and soul But how? How will this pair make its way back, When the wearer has already burned rubber and…