I Was Feeling Sad, Can’t Help Looking Back …

As I’ve been going through the 30 day blogging challenge, I’ve realized that maybe I should have chosen a different challenge.  I mean, a lot of these topics could potentially spark some really interesting posts … For someone.  Unfortunately, I don’t always have a really unique or personal story to share that’s relevant to some of these topics.

Today, for instance, I’m supposed to share my thoughts on drugs and alcohol.  Well, here they are: I drink socially, and while some weeks I may have at least one drink every day (or almost every day), other times I won’t drink alcohol for a month or longer.  Over time I’ve learned my limits, and I’ve always tried to be pretty responsible (like staying with a friend if I’ve had too much to drive home).  I’ve never been into drugs of any kind because, to be honest, I was too scared to try them.  I would never want to become dependent on something or potentially ruin my life just because I wanted to experience a drug one time.

See?  Not that interesting.  I don’t have any “life lessons” to share or anything.  Sorry.

So, with that being said, I’ve decided (yet again) to do something a little different.  I probably can’t say I’ve completed the 30 day blogging challenge if I don’t write about each and every thing on the list (though I guess I’ve at least touched on each one so far), but oh well.  I can at least use the list for inspiration if I’m at a loss for a subject to write about.

Today I’ve decided to be brave and share another of my poems.  I haven’t shared any of my personal creative writing since October, so it seemed like something I should do.  I’m always nervous about sharing my work on this blog because most of it is extremely personal.  (Though, if I’m being completely honest, I’m also nervous about sharing it because the “What if it’s not good enough?” thought runs through my mind each time.)  I haven’t written any poetry in quite a while, and the reason is because I always felt I could write better when I was depressed.  Cliché. yes … But I honestly think the work I’m most proud of came out of a very dark place.

This isn’t one of my absolute favorite pieces, but after reading over it again this evening, I realized it was at least something I felt comfortable sharing on a public blog.  I’ve mentioned before that I’ve written a lot of my poetry in song format (though I’ve never attempted to put it to music), and this is yet another song lyric style poem.

“That Old House”

Written on 06-02-2006

From somewhere in the darkness she hears her name

A hopeful voice begging her to change

Too frightened to love, she stubbornly remains

Locked inside with her private shame

Behind the walls of that old house were secrets she’d never tell

Acidic memories burning her heart away

She’d spent years fighting the armies of her private hell

Knowing those ghosts will never fade

From somewhere on the other side she hears the rain

A background symphony for her pain

Too frightened to live, she stubbornly remains

Locked inside her hell another day

Behind the walls of that old house were secrets she’d never tell

Acidic memories burning her heart away

She’d spent years fighting the armies of her private hell

Knowing those ghosts will never fade

Cracked and peeling, the paint reminds her of herself

Once beautiful and bright, she’s become something else

Alone in her home, she’s not safe from her regrets

Chained to all the things she could never forget

Behind the walls of that old house were secrets she’d never tell

Acidic memories burning her heart away

She’d spent years fighting the armies of her private hell

Knowing those ghosts will never fade

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