I have recently learned how to make adjectives out of nouns;
the components are problem and a person, joining together to make a "problematic" one..
it's me, I'm the problem—atic one.
I developed my skills to create the problem and to solve it;
The fear and the one who is full of it is "fearful", while the one who is stripped of everything he once had will be called "fearless".
P.S. Both of them still have the root "fear-" inside of them.
He sat in a wheeled chair, waiting for dark,
And shivered in his ghastly suit of grey,
Legless, sewn short at elbow. Through the park
Voices of boys rang saddening like a hymn,
Voices of play and pleasure after day,
Till gathering sleep had mothered them from him.
About this time Town used to swing so gay
When glow-lamps budded in the light blue trees,
And girls glanced lovelier as the air grew dim,-
......
Have pity, You alone whom I adore
From down this black pit where my heart is sped,
A sombre universe ringed round with lead
Where fear and curses the long night explore.
Six months a cold sun hovers overhead;
The other six is night upon this land.
No beast; no stream; no wood; no leaves expand.
The desert Pole is not a waste so dead.
......
In England once there lived a big
And wonderfully clever pig.
To everybody it was plain
That Piggy had a massive brain.
He worked out sums inside his head,
There was no book he hadn't read.
He knew what made an airplane fly,
He knew how engines worked and why.
He knew all this, but in the end
One question drove him round the bend:
......
Another armored animal–scale
lapping scale with spruce-cone regularity until they
form the uninterrupted central
tail row! This near artichoke with head and legs and
grit-equipped gizzard,
the night miniature artist engineer is,
yes, Leonardo da Vinci’s replica–
impressive animal and toiler of whom we seldom hear.
Armor seems extra. But for him,
the closing ear-ridge–
......
it is not the dark that terrifies me,
but the shadow it casts, stretching endlessly forward.
fear is not the thunder but the waiting for the strike,
the ache of a sky too heavy to hold its silence.
it is not the monster at the door—
it is the sound of the latch shifting,
the soft creak of wood that makes me freeze,
makes me pray to remain unseen.
fear is a seed that blooms in my chest,
......
I have recently learned how to make adjectives out of nouns;
the components are problem and a person, joining together to make a "problematic" one..
it's me, I'm the problem—atic one.
I developed my skills to create the problem and to solve it;
The fear and the one who is full of it is "fearful", while the one who is stripped of everything he once had will be called "fearless".
P.S. Both of them still have the root "fear-" inside of them.
Inside my head
There lives a thought
She scratches, she paws
She begs to be let out
The thumping from inside
On my temple, between my eyes
Thumping, thumping, thumping
......
My house is just that
A place for sleeping and belonging
But I don't want to go into it
Because of my issues from my trauma
My social media is for connections
But I'm terrified of the prison
Of my family's hate
and their relentless criticism
......
My hands tremble violently, my breath comes in ragged gasps,
A crippling terror wraps around me, choking the life from my chest.
I am drowning in fear—will they see me as I am,
Or will they tear me apart, calling me a liar,
Even when my soul is bare, speaking nothing but truth?
What would you do, if you were forced into a battle for justice,
And every single person around you pointed their finger,
Accusing you of being the monster?
I know my heart, I know my soul—I am not the enemy.
......