LdotBrand
This is what I write when I can't sleep; poems, stories, rants
He handed her his heart with little trepidation.
She put it in a pocket and forgot all about it.
Dream
all i ask
just one night
blissful ignorance
pitch black
silence
all i ask
just one night
no freckled lips
no fingertips
no hand on my knee
no you and me
just one night
fairytales
nightmares
candy-floss
grizzly bears
all i ask
just one night
anything
anything but you
-LdotBrand
Haunted by Myself
Forgetting is easy
when the mind is busy
and the days fly by
in a blissful state of ignorance
but when darkness rolls in
and the quiet surrounds
Memories come easy
and the rancid regrets
burst at the seams
from the pockets of the mind
where we hide them
-LdotBrand
We do what we must…
I wrote a lot of words today. Regurgitated them from a textbook. Their meanings forgotten the moment my pen lifted from the lines.
Years of formal secondary education and I’ve come away with a few meaningful concepts, but not the ones my parents intended me to learn. Memorization, bullshit, and an urgent need to escape all that they have created. Call me ungrateful—I do.
Luckily my desire to learn has not been thwarted by the failing educational system. It happens to be stronger than ever. I will go forth, on my own and at no expense to my ever-giving guardians, to read everything in my reach and beyond. I will absorb every word, roll them around on my tongue and in my brain until they find permanence there.
The system taught me how to please the masses. It’s time for me to please myself.
(And get a job of course!)
I have these characters in my head at all times. So much so that they come to me in dreams, and daydreams, and the odd time in nightmares. Sometimes they are more real to me than the people I see everyday—or maybe I just wish they were. Does that make me crazy? No, I don’t think it does. I try to write it all down, catch the fragments as they fly by.
A girl with silky black hair that hangs long down her back.
Another with the same face, but her hair is cut shorter and she’s coloured it; the hairdresser called it almond.
It’s nothing, I know that. But maybe one day I’ll be able to compile these fragments and there will be substance; some kind of a story. One day I’ll write something of meaning, even if it only means something to me.
You don’t need to be something, you just need to be more than nothing.
Just Breathe
Slow down.
Slow everything down.
Slow the world,
slow my mind,
slow my breath.
Inhale.
Fill me up.
Fill me all the way up.
Fill this room,
fill my soul,
fill my lungs.
Exhale.
Slow down.
Slow everything down.
-LdotBrand
It’s not a hole, it’s quicksand
-LdotBrand
Words about Words
Words on paper or screen transcend time and space;
they are past, present, and future simultaneously.
Words off the lips can never return;
they can be heard, remembered, or forgotten.
Words lost at the tip of the tongue may never be found.
Words are manipulated to derive meaning;
I used four words.
Words hurt;
and heal.
Words spill;
and congeal.
Words whispered can be heard loud-and-clear;
shouted and never heard.
-LdotBrand
Dare
In no more than a look
a lifetime
you and I
Past, present, future
a flash
here and gone
a lifetime
here and gone
Dare for another glance
-LDotBrand
