Someone told me I was broken.
I believed it to be true.
Someone told me I wasnt worthy.
I believed that too.
Someone stole my smiles.
I learned to hide them inside.
Someone told me I wasnt enough.
Someone lied.
Tag: poet
Memory
Going down
landing
in the waste land
of what was beautiful.
A magic land
where dreams enter reality.
A destruction zone
of lingering hopes
and broken promises.
Landing in the
remains of us.
We were magic,
now just darkness
and memories.
Unlived plans
turned into possible regrets.
This is my home,
where I stay.
My eternal labyrinth
of us.
A Thank You to My Exes
It seems as if I owe you boys some thanks
Without you all and your flaws that drove me away
I may never have known what to be grateful for today
If you hadn’t answered for me assuming I didn’t know the answers and slyly dropped hints that my intellect was lesser than your own
I might have never known to love how he compliments my intelligence and my mind
If you hadn’t needed constant contact and attention because of your unrooted fear I would be as they had been
I might not appreciate his understanding that I’ll get back to him when I can
If you hadn’t suggested I be a housewife with a hobby to keep me entertained
I might not go weak whenever he shows off my career and the accomplishments I’ve obtained
If you hadn’t pushed your erection up against my back while your hands roamed and called it cuddling
I may never have realized the phenomenon that is my happiest sanctuary in the warmth of his arms
If you hadn’t tried to make me less, fearful of my confidence
I wouldn’t cherish how much he builds me up
If you all hadn’t tried your damndest to control me
I may never have realized how amazing it is to have someone who sets me free.
Someone who believes in me.
Thank you all, and I hope you find happiness.
I wonder what you learned from me.
©C O’Connor, 2018.
Dream
Come back to me.
Let me dream again.
You are the destination where my dreams begin and end.
©C O’Connor, 2018
Dark Sometimes
I guess I can get dark at times
I guess I’m not just all right
I think that you should know my fate
my life of hate
my broken heart’s state
I’m not pretty
I guess that’s me
but my soul is limitless
there is beauty
deep inside
where you can’t see
there is beauty inside of me
my monsters are gorgeous
my demons are free
those are the things that control me.
or help me to keep control
help, to slow my roll
to keep it chill
relax and rest
take a breath
not worry for one minute
just one
one
singular
one moment
one minute
that’s all I need
to be freed
but I guess I get dark sometimes.
©C.O’Connor, 2018
Chalk
Solidarity,
to be alone completely
totally in fulfillment
exactly as much as i want it to be
because nothing happens that I don’t want to happen
complete control is lost completely
NOTHING saves us
there is no hope
only demons hiding over your bed on your chalk board
they’re always watching aren’t they
it’s annoying really
can’t breathe
can’t think
just losing my mind and
running out of
space
©O’Connor, 
2016
A Poet
A neurotic
A sickly child
impressed by the natural world
A drop out
with great acclaim
An alcohol abuser
a contradictory image
met the dancer
the mistress
a passionate and turbulent love
all for show
a reject due to illness
a notorious poet
an archetypal Romantic
a flamboyant theatric
a heavy drinker
he collapsed
he died
a legendary figure
©C. O’Connor, 2016
“Dylan Thomas.” Academy of American Poets. N.p., n.d. Web.
Past Feels
No feelings. No thoughts. No words. No nothing but space and time and history, I guess. There is a lot of history here. So much so that it breaks me. Just the thought of it. Of it all. That simple thought can stop me in my tracks, and start me running back. Back to everything I was. Everything I originally ran from. History. Oh History. It can kill. It can ruin someone. It can ruin me. So we stand. No feelings. No thoughts. No words. Just nothing. Space and history. So much of each. They can make us or ruin us. Which will it be? Yes or no? Made or ruined? Home or running?
©C. O’Connor, 2016
memories
starting on a new line
in a blank space
no transition
no middle
old new
nothing in between
that is how it works
what goes down in between
forgotten
only the highlights survive
I am now who I am
how did I get here?
Forgotten.
©C.O’Connor 2016
#7 – It’s Complicated
I wasn’t flying I was falling
but suspended in air
I was hurt I was crying
I needed you there
you were gone
you were missing
you ran away
and now I’m left and I’m lonely
it’s just another day
A day in my life
come on and walk in my shoes
A day in my hell
singing the blues
a lost kid a found soul
reckless to a fault
Get to know who I am
just leave me to fall
Not fly
suspended in air.
© O’Connor, 2016
The Rant 