self-discovery
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My path laid hidden before me,
too tangled by thorned vines
to spark within me a desire to discover
what waited beyond the masked trail.
Instead, I paced outside the entrance of my beckoning path
I’m a little too much of the same thing
I run on the railway lines
That roll as straight and narrow
As the razor-sharp wire I
Am constantly using as a tightrope
This is going to be a problem
I think as I stare across the room on the third floor
Eyeing the last tenant to enter the apartment.
She’s nothing like what I’ve seen before
Her hair,
I am not her,
Not my past,
Nor a name.
I am not the order
Of the stars,
Or the gods of the months,
Or the beasts that follow the moon.
Our value no more than
I’m so..sad
All my life I’ve never been satisfied
With me
Abuse and control seizing my quiet soul
I couldn’t let go
Rest ripped from me
I fought fathers for a lifetime
I am not the girl my mother made.
That creature breathes no more, is as dead as the cracked dirt on an expanse of desert in Arizona,
which I have yet to see myself.
That girl exists in two dimensions; she
I am wandering down a river bed
Without a map in my hand
Or a plan thought up
I saw the water drifting and
Floated along with it
Sometimes our attempts to escape reality
for so long you've been sinking
belly full of stones
i press my lips to yours
with the notion
that breathing outward might send you upward
but somehow
accidentally
i breathe in
If I were to whisper into the depths of the deepest soul,
Would my voice be heard?
Should I venture into the darkest crevice of human spirit,
Would I be lost?
Surrounded by laughs and smiles While I just listenOnly my ears are openSealed lips shut Words can’t be spoken
Spoken Intro:
“All of a sudden, it’s like you’ve become aware of your own existence, how unwhole you are.
And you’re constantly being reborn...
Again...
And again...
And again...
And again.
12/28/2016
As flesh clad together turn in my mind,
Something I’ve abstained from and so I find,
Who am I?
What comes to mind, when I say hi?
How is it that you feel, when you find out it’s me?
Are you sad or happy whenever you see me?
Do I make or mar your day?
Does it feel good when I stay?
I realized where my passion lies
and through open eyes I saw the prize.
I'd go back to school to gain the tools
necessary for me to fuel
the vehicle of which I'll drive
and strive to thrive until I arrive
Swimming in a sea of skin
I only felt her warm hand
fingers laced through mine
like sutures binding a wound
allowing it to heal.
I apologize
My self-consciousness is heavy
My pride is immesive
And as the years go on, my happiness has only gotten more expensive
For you, and only you.
I go in search
of the magicians
the ones that still chant
abracadabra three times
an ancient trilogy revived
I go in search of hope for tomorrow;
where wild tiger lilies grow tall,
I dreamed of jumping beyond the realms of dirt and pavement-- to soar as far as the wind could take me. So I leapt. But once I reached that farthest point--the spot I once desired most, I came back.
Golden sunset lemons, twinkly sliced
unlike the first time I ran my pen, and eyes, dry.
Puckers and sighs against a luminescent sky--
only dreams back then, something to imagine.
The "damsel in distress"
no longer has a romance to it
not to me
shut up, I won't shut up
I mean, it's not my fault I have purple butterfly wings
that no-one sees
It's not my fault I'm the moon
It’s unimaginable that I may be slightly capableon my own to express how I feel.
The simple, heart-wrenching thought that I can’t speak on my ownis like a never ending, constantly turning wheel.
She has fire in her veins, and venom in her heart.
She is cool, calm, and collected
But when you cross paths with her
She can be your nightmare.
away from the sun i wander
from insignificant moments
i change ages
i yearn for the Unknowable
all things Invalid
into the night i tread
count your experiences as my own.
Remembering
in your youth,
when you had too
many men, and
you could pick
and choose. Sleeping
around then, but now
you side preach
Abstinence from
I watched the darkness;
dissolving, morphing, quickly
receding from the fruity light,
as if rejected medicine.
Left behind for an identical,
I am a wave
Part of the ocean
Floating high, floating low
And sinking
When I crash
My highs are
So high
I give God
A high-five
My lows are
So low
I'm not even in existence
Upon the beds of my frozen lake
Where my roses were left to sleep
She lay
In the meadows of my broken hopes
And dreams that never came true
She sat
She heard his voice
She heard my voice
Who is the girl behind the camera you might inquire
I am not even so sure myself as to who I am
I might be someone else,
or something else,
Golden brown hair cascades down her shoulders
In rivulets of a sand-storm future
And her dusty brown eyes outlined in charcoal
Pierce through your mind as if she knows what you’re thinking.
Who do I want to be?
A very complicated question.
First, I suppose,I want to be a girl that's not lost in her own sea
One that isn't conflicted with self repression
I want to be one filled with laughter
So beautifully flowing,
so sporadically chaotic,
so miraculously conjoined,
the fact of existance,
so matter-of-fact,
as we live to simply not be.
Nothing may begin if there be no end,
Once upon a time
I dreamed of butterbees in winter snow,
A harrowing adventure
Meant to age my mind and save my soul.
I dreamed and dreamed and dreamed
Until my vision greyed and greyed,
Give me a hero and I'll show you his sin.
Show me a victor,
I'll explain why he can't win.
Present a success,
And I'll unveil the flaws.
Show me innocence,
And you'll be scratched with hidden claws.
This life is all I have ever known
from its difficulties and blessings
to the people met over time
and the tight knit family I have.
And you may criticize me all you want
The cave fish swim
Round and round
Going nowhere
Blind in the dark
Most have no eyes
But one fish sees
Sees the blackness
Feels the hopelessness
The fish with eyes
This is what you've done to me.
You started to teach me as a child,
In rooms of bright colors and toys,
Rooms that smelled of crayons and grubby fingers,
Remove from me this veil that hides the reflection of my soul. As the grey ivy cloaks the mirror, my knife escapes me. The wolf inside me howls for air. My amber heart cannot live in such bondage.
A poet does not rhyme with words.
She rhymes a feeling to a memory,
a thought to a touch.
This flower rhymes with her eyes.
The wind chimes rhyme with her voice.
that drifting leaf rhymes with her spirit.
What is Briana Scott?
Young, beautiful, thoughtful, quiet, self-conscious,
determined, creative...Lost.
I don't really know what I'm supposed to be doing
with this life of mines.
Yes, that’s me.
Look and you’ll see.
My hair is as straight as the speed of light.
My eyes are as sparkling as my philosophy of stars.
My arms, reaching for cures for my aching heart.
Essences of my thoughts
Cascade across eyelids like
Galaxies resting on weathered smiles.
Mouths are shackled by broken
Hinges of misunderstanding;
An unaware psyche.
Embalmed mannequins positioned in a
I want to move to Seattle
Where it rains
Where thunderstorms thrive on the dampness of wet, tear-stained cheeks
I want to be just one cappuccino away
from rolling back to bed
