Losing touch...

A poem I'd forgotten about...I found in my diary...recent yet old.. Not a personal favorite but I do like the ending few lines. Pretty chaotic.. 

What happens when you lose touch?

When you lose contact?

Your hearts shattered

Everything seems empty.

You keep the smile on your face

But underneath you're hollow.

That's when you remember

the fond memories

and joyful times together

and suddenly you feel 

that pain your chest.

It grabs you suddenly

and you're wide awake

when you'd fallen asleep

dreaming about it all.

You see the shadow

fading to darkness

and you hide your feelings,

and you're already breathless.

 Even though you can't bear it,

and you yearn for it, all over again;

You know there's nothing you can do...

'Cause it's already losing it's grip.

Wish you hadn't said somethings...

Wish you hadn't shown somethings...

Wish things had turned out differently,

And you didn't look like a fool, a loser. 

You're ready to change it,

You're ready to do it,

For that one person who meant everything,

You're ready to leave the world behind. 

But the time's gone,

You're already running late for it all.

It's a nightmare that came true,

and overpowered all the dreaming that you do,

And that's when you wake up, 

shudder and realize

wipe that tear in the corner of your eye;

You didn't mean to start it all,

And all you're waiting for,

is that one phone call.

Him Again. Review this one please! Chapter #1!

So, I recently wrote a short paragraph about this scene of a story that was running through my mind. :P I haven't really written after this one...but do tell me how it is. 


He was walking away from me. No. NO. It was as though my scream was muted. My throat hurt. I saw him till his shadow wasn't visible. It was dark. I shuddered. My eyes were wet. My right hand clutched on to something in the air. Hard. And that's when I landed back on earth. I dreamed again last night. I dreamed about him. It was a nightmare.

***

I could smell banana pancakes. They were my favorite. It didn't take me long to figure out why mum made them. I was going to have to visit a therapist. I heaved a long sigh. I WASN'T going to therapy. Not this time. My mom had started freaking out a week ago. When my nightmares had started again. They were attacking me. Worse than ever. I thought of last night, remembered about when hell had closed down on me. Like it did past a week now. How long was it going to last?

Mom came in, handed me a plate of pancakes and sat down beside me. I knew what was going to come next. "Sweetheart, I don't get what's so wrong about therapy." She stroked my cheek while she said that. I rolled my eyes and ate my pancake without a word. We were done talking about this for too long now. "Look, I know what you're thinking, but you should really consider it. Besides, it'll mostly be Carla doing it." She smiled while she mentioned her name. Carla Heavens - four years elder than me, an old neighbor. We were pretty close back then. But then, she changed her school, got new friends. The popular and pathetic kind. She took psychology as her subject of specialization for college. She probably had to counsel kinds as her a project. I almost smirked and my expressions must have been pretty obvious because Mom just then went "I thought you liked her..." And I said nothing. The phone just went off and Mom rushed out to take it. I rolled my eyes again. I didn't mean to be difficult, I wasn't usually. It's just... No Therapy.                    

Yep, that's about it.   

Showing the path..

Sometimes when the night grows long
and regrets run through your mind,
you look back on your life
and wonder what you've left behind.
You've won no fame or fortune,
no title, power or land.
No loyal group of followers,
no one at your command.

You brood on all the chances lost,
when you could have had the prize,
But fate stepped in and stole it
right before your very eyes.

Is there any hope for meaning,
any legacy to leave?
Any way to join the ranks of those
who struggle and achieve?

Then a small voice speaks inside you
of a deed done long ago,
a trifling thing or so it seemed.
You had no way to know.
Your kindly act of charity
that turned a life around
and set some soul back on the path
where freedom can be found.

If not for you would have gone undone,
only you could make it so.
You were put here for a reason, friend,
that only God can know.