A Poem by LyricistWannaB

Impromptu free writing on codependency, a seemingly overused, cliche word, yes, but that's all I've got. Free writing always helps me release intense, unwanted emotions, and, on occasion, provides some clarity.


She hopes to salvage the strength. Completely clear confusion, then cloudy. He's the guiding star, shines bright, this passion will guide you so far. Share your song! Sing to me from afar! He, the purest of hearts, a gentle soul. Unaware, he can't abandon the days in the bar. Alone. The sanctity of song. So beautiful. Drink for a good reason and dream of her from afar. She's perched on a pedestal, originally built at lightning speed. No information. Not yet earned. He needs her. Needs someone. My daddy, please? But the pedestal is strong; while it wavers and cracks. All the time. Can't stop loving you. I need you. The pure heart shines bright, not to most, but to her it's aglow from afar. That anger. Why the irritability? You are my guiding star?! You told me I was your guardian angel?! Next day, his anger is unleashed on the phone, from afar. No reason. He's an angel at times, telling her ok, it will be alright. You're a compassionate person, once repressed, again compassion alive. Quality anger, not quantity. Not directed through fist, seriously. 95% of days, he's the passion, shared passions, the stars shine together shine the most bright, humor and hugs. Hold me tight tonight. The stars, the moon. They thrive together. Clarity in the night. She feels no fear. His inner child awakened. In unison, in struggle they might survive. She is terrified with loved ones' deaths, dreams of her own by God's hand in sleep, not her own. He works, lives, survives, day in and day out. Death will occur whenever. Nothing to worry about. He talks to her regularly. He's the only one. Please hear me out?! With no ear to listen, the pain, unbearably intense. For only, he talk to her regularly. She isolates. So alone, no peace, no remotely peaceful home. She needs to share passions, share pain. Why is he so angry?! Please open up to me. He is a not simply a closed book; he's a chest in the attic locked up tight. But she knows of the trauma of a boys past. Now a man. Her heart pours out, overflows. Compassionate, she is. Tendency always there. Defeated by self for so many years. Consumed, but unaware. Why is he locked in the attic?! Here to listen, maybe even understand. She partially understands. His past has the upper hand. Please don't take it out on me. Jekyl and Hyde. So alone and depressed, lie in bed with a continuous cry. Why?! Fear, so fragile already. With the loss of his pure heart, 95% of her, so fragile after waging a life-long war. Fear of a break and heartbreak. Forget it. She can't break such a fragile, pure heart. No, do it. A risk, more guilt, deeper into despair. Love gone. Perhaps in the long run better for her. Selfish. Pure. Overload.

© 2008 LyricistWannaB

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Added on November 29, 2008
Last Updated on December 13, 2008




Hi fellow writers. Welcome to my creative dumping ground! I absolutely love to write, but do not consider myself a writer. It's a hobby I'm passionate about and use to comfort and cleanse my chaotic .. more..