Wasted

Wasted, through my care.
Unrequited,
My care, empty yet felt,
Meaningful in its truth.
But lost all the same.

My feelings wasted,
My feelings spent.
Oh how I cared,
Oh how I care.

Afraid to be hurt again.
Even though I care.

Sad, that how I feel,
All of me,
Wasted.
Sad to see my feelings,
Splayed out across the wall,
The wall of my mind.
A hurtful reminder,
Wasted.

A sadness comes over me,
Seeing you,
Wanting to help you,
Wanting you happy.

But in the end.
All my feelings.
Wasted.


I know it’s a sad poem, I’m not sad, happy, had a good day and tried so hard to help a really good friend. Someone I care about with the whole world.

It’s just a moment, painful, hurtful, overthinking. It will pass, it always does. But the feelings, the care, doesn’t.

But it’s okay, I care. And it’s wasted. I’m wasted.

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Too Much Care

The moment I realise my lie,
Caring too much,
Caring more than I can say.
It being unwanted?
Perhaps.

Caring alone.
Thinking of my past mistakes.
The mistake of me,
Putting in too much care.

Not realising before,

That it wasn’t wanted.

Something I tried not to see.
Because it hurt.
Thinking,
Is it worth it.

Caring when it isn’t wanted.


Overthinking, the past and present, what I should do. Just thinking . Especially when I cannot help.

Don’t worry, it’ll pass, this overthinking. As it always does.

Anything For Your Happiness

Happy,
Seeing you at the bus stop,
Watching you, recede into the distance,
That golden smile on your face.
The memories flashing before my eyes, before my mind.

The hope for you,
Hope for you, to go on,
To see, feel, be.
Only thinking,
No matter what happens,
Seeing you happier,
Makes me smile too,
Even if a happy-sad tear drifts down my cheek.

The moment of sadness, aches,
But in the end,
Knowing that you’re there,
Happier,
Wanting to do anything for your happiness,
Just to see your smile.

Even if a happy-sad tear drifts down my cheek.


Writing this, listening to Happiness by Ed Sheeran. Feeling a little happy-sad, but happy overall, totally happy and ecstatic, but thinking. Love, the feeling, wanting the best for another, being happier, even if a little sad. But overall knowing the person you care about is happier, that matters the most to me.

I know this may sound sad, but it’s not. I’m just listening to a sad song and it resonated with me, got me thinking, and inspired.

I’m stronger, happier than I have ever been. Feeling totally amazing. And I’m not sad. Just totally happy.

Heartbroken to See You Cry.

Here I stand,
Watching you cry,
Trying to do what I can,
To reassure.

To be there for you.
The time of doubt,
Pain,
Worry.

A place of darkness.
Not wanting to leave you face it alone.
Not that you can’t take it,
But better not to, alone.

Heartbreak, at seeing one I care about the most.
Lost, sad and hurt.
The place.
Having been lost before,
I can relate.
Having myself,
Seen an end,
A final,
A end.

Not wanting to leave you to the claim of the dark.

To stand,
Even by your side.
Even just to be there in silence.
So you weren’t alone.
So you had company, care.

I, heartbroken, to see you hurt.
But yet determined.
To do anything I can.
To do anything I can.

Even to be there.
So you wouldn’t have to face the darkness alone.

I’d conquer my demons,
Just so I could stand with you to face yours.


Another storyesque, taken some artistic liberties, emotional hyperbole, linking with my past, feelings and thoughts, my being and essence.

That end stanza. One of my favourite lines/quotes I have made in the lifespan of this blog:

“I would face my demons, just to help you face yours”
– ‘Nice’Guy

This post reminds me of another poem I wrote a while ago, still mean every word, the feeling is still there, even though so much has happened in between; Anything For You, which is what I was going to name this poem, but I recognised I thought I used the name before. Read the poem and found out it’s all still true. Surprisingly. But all still true.

Moment of panic

A moment of panic,
The realisation.
Paralysed,
Vision, gone to a tunnel.
Down a spiral, a moment of fright.
From the realisation that I hoped would not come.

Memory gone to blank.
A moment of panic.
Breathing hard.
Moment blank.
Heart falling heavy.

And on the fall.
On the drop.
Falling for a moment.

Lost and falling.
The moment all-consuming.

Only for but a moment.
A moment. Of panic.


Writing this after a brief but intense moment of panic. My breathing raced, heart beat out of my chest, my vision constricted to a tunnel.

Like opening Pandora’s box and finding unexpected shock. Something to destabilise me.

I have had an amazing day and this one thing threatens to bring be down to a lowest, but I’m fighting back, at least for the day to be over, ended on a happy note.

This thing’s just broken me, but I don’t know if it’s irrational, or not. Enough of this though, only one way to find out where this goes.

So glad this realisation happened on a good day. An absolutely fucking brilliant day. I’m determined to see past it and go on happy. Don’t know about tomorrow.

That Beach Sunset. The Last Night Together

That beach sunset, our last night together.
Sitting next to you,
Cider in one hand,
Yours in another.
Your head resting on my shoulder.

Orange sunset,
The horizon bright and warm,
Going to fade.

Our last night together,
Sitting. Silent. Together.

Happy, yet also sad…
In the moment.
Silent.
In each other’s arms,
Watching the warm sun-glow,
Fade in the sky.

How you turn your head,
Look me in the face,
Smile and laugh.

The sunset. I see. I feel.
My sunset.


A poem where I’m experimenting with a new type, partly fictional poems, where I create a scenario, a scene, place myself within it inside my imagination and let the feelings flow from that. Similar to what I usually do, but more abstract, and a mixture between fiction, truth and experience in different combinations.

My intention is that the mixture will be between feelings, thoughts, scenarios and worries.

Anger for a Lie

The lies you shared,
Refusing me the dignity of being,
Leaving me in torture,
Under your foot.
Broken and controlled.

Only others showed me your lies,
Gave me decency on your behalf when you refused.
Showed me basic human respect when you denied me.

Thrown off my chains,
Tearing my self out,
Out of the hurtful lies,
The bad situation.
The wrecked mind I had to piece back.

You, the orchestrator of my demons’ symphony.


Thinking of the past, how someone treated me, something I tried to forget. But stuff is happening like the same as before.

Finished writing later, not feeling so bad, a walk home, time to think, space, some good news and errands has put me in a better mood.

Cutting Myself Off

Cutting myself off,
Misunderstood, left in the unknown,
Unable to help those I care about.
Left out of the picture.

Patterns repeat,
Pain comes again.
Being warned away,
But not taking heed.
Needing to cut off.
To save myself.
Needing to cut off,
To protect, to help, to live.

I do not want to,
Cut away the feeling.
But it may save me,
By killing a major part.

A decision of me,
Decision of mine.
One I do not want.
Cannot take.

Funny,
How some things change.
How most others stay the same.


Feeling quite sad, sad I cannot help, that they do not know. The latter is for the best, but brings me great pain.

Considering legitimately, now, the first time in a long time. To cut myself off.

They have a friend, do not need me. I’m only the help for work, company or motivation.

I can do all those things for myself, but not worth doing it for another, if it only brings pain. But that’s the hard part.

It doesn’t only bring pain, but brings something so worth it, the feeling, that it makes the pain worth it.

I know this feeling, may be overthinking. But even then, one truth I know, my overthinking, is usually right, is the truth, but one I do not want to come to terms with. I need to. I have to.

Seems like it’s decision time for me. One I will make tonight, one way, or another.

Reluctant Tear

A reluctant tear,
Thinking of my leaving.
Could I hurt you?
Like that, again?

A reluctant tear runs down my face,
Fearing to lose you,
Knowing I have to.

The tear in my conscious,
Should I leave?
May it hurt you?
I fear losing,

But know, somehow I must.
In the end it may be better.
It may save you,
From me,
My confusion,
My endless care.

I fear it may end up hurting you.

This reluctant tear,
Running down my face,
Thinking,
Feeling.
Always, you,
My focus, consideration,
To do what’s best for you,
Even if you don’t know it.
Even if I’m reluctant to let go.
All in care.

All in care.
This reluctant tear,
Runs down my face.
As I stand thinking.
Of you,
Of why I must leave.
Wrestling with myself over the idea.

Off I walk, after turning my back.
A reluctant tear, for a reluctant walk.
Your photo in hand,
Your memory in mind,
My care for you, in my heart.
So much so say,
That I must not.
To make it easier for you to forget.
In a reluctant tear.


Poem I’m writing, after the time I came up with the title, (9pm 28/11/17 – when I came up with the title and ‘felt’ the poem). I date it to when it was written completely. While writing later is for convenience as I may not have time in a busy day of work.

Wrote, thinking of a friend, one I care about the most, would always help. One I love. But, I have a decision, one I’ve made and not kept. Over if I should leave, when, how. May seem bad. But the only thing on the top of my mind is them, my feelings wont go away, never have. I care about them, more than I can explain or know. Know this won’t change. I don’t want to hurt them, as I have many times in the past.

I know I may have to leave them, maybe without a trace would be better, or to hurt them (clearly with me being in the wrong) so they can hate me, and get rid of me. It’ll hurt, more than I can imagine to do this, the very thing I don’t want to. But. Maybe hurting someone spares them more pain than leaving them without giving them a reason to hate me.

I honestly right now, am okay as publishing this, these are the thoughts I had before, but am still thinking of now, still potentially relevant now, but feeling better than when I made the title.

Idea 9pm, 28/11/17

Note to self: Most poems are published when written (and title made up). The few tonight are an exception I had made the names of the poems, while feeling them. Now I only need to write the rest and publish:

Memory of a Time
Reluctant Tear
Hate that I Love You, But I do.
To Bear the Rough