Living

Life is more than just being alive.
It’s more than just waking up, going to work, eating, coming home, and going to bed.
It’s learning to love, learning to fall, learning to thrive.

There’s more to life than the same old everyday routine.
If you find yourself dragging yourself out of bed, and walking through your day as if you’re on auto-drive,
That’s not living.
It’s not even close.

That’s more like living the life of a ghost.
Someone who is floating lifelessly, unsure of their destination,
Not knowing when their next break or chance to get away is.

That’s someone frozen in their seat
as the world spins quickly around them.
They watch with a frown and wonder if this is how it ends.

Is this all I’m meant to become, or is there so much more to me?
And if there is, then why can’t I seem to find that side of me and let it free?
My world’s getting colder, and colder with every breath that I breathe,
And I’m beginning to wonder if I should just give up, and let it be.

In an instant, everything goes still, and time doesn’t change.
Life is filled with moments like these,
Where we are presented with an opportunity to do what we will.
We can walk away from it, play it safe, and maintain the routine.
Or we can grasp it with two hands, and tun with our dreams.

True, it’s risky.
There’s a chance it won’t work.
That we’ll be thrown back by our mistakes,
and we’ll have to take time to re-work,
everything that we know, and create a new path.

But we’ll push forward,
and learn to deal with the aftermath.

We’ll find a different way, and create something new.
We’ll form new bonds that are different than the ones we outgrew.
Each day will be different,
and if not then at least we’re doing something we love.

Now we’re doing something exciting, creative, fun, smart, enlightening,
or all of the above.
Now we’re chasing after our passions,
and have nothing that we’re scared of.

Instead of staying behind,
We’re dancing to the beat.
We’re not getting out of the kitchen,
because we know we can take the heat.

Life is full of setbacks,
and monsters that will do their best to make you feel incomplete.
They fill your head with lies or worthlessness and defeat.

But deep down we know we’re stronger than any of the gashes that they leave.
After all, in order for a phoenix to rise,
it must first burn to ashes
before taking flight.

Change is out there,
you just have to be brave enough to grab it.
Don’t let it scare you,
or force you to submit.

You must fight back, and take what is rightfully yours.

Only then will you truly be living.
Only then will you soar.

~Brooklyn Wilkins

Pocketful of Poetry

Pocketful of Poetry


Hello, Gorgeous!


So I have decided that I want to share with you guys some of the other stuff that I write. I knew I didn't want it to be too long, and that it had to be, I don't know, not fan fiction. Eliminating anything that fell under those categories I was left with one thing..


Poetry!


So this is one of the many poems I have written, and this particular is- well I guess you'll have to read and find out!


Enjoy!




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Title: Who Am I?


Who am I?


It's a weird question isn't?
To know your name and what you look like,
But not who you truly are.


The world makes it seem like we all have to be the same,
Or else.
Or else we'll be something horrible.


Different.


Because of this we're scared to see who we are,
Who we could be,
And what controls us.


Because it seems that what identifies us is what controls us.


So who am I?


Am I fear?


Am I constantly anxious and worried about other's opinions?


Am I blinded the anxiety that I'll mess up, and fail, and be judged for one mistake by the whole
world?


Am I terrified that one day I'll wake up and be alone,
But am too afraid to confront others?


Am I drowning in the voids of my brain as I constantly over think everything?


Every person,
Every event,
Every location,


Every single aspect of my life until I'm too afraid to breath?


Could that be? Is that even possible?


Or am I something else?


Am I anger?


Could I be someone who will simply explode if you approach them?


Or am I the kind of person that just glares at life as it dares to pass by?


You know.


The kind that are angry at themselves for every regret?


The ones that are so full of rage, and so frustrated at their own actions, that they take it out on others?


One of the people that are so angry they just want to scream.


Scream at their failures,
Their mistakes,
Their emptiness,
Their self-pity,
Their emotions.


And simply continue screaming until they have no voice to cry out with, and are left stranded and alone on an island of misery.


No.


That's not me either.


So am I sadness?


Is that me?


Am I surrounded by the weighted gloom of depression?


Have I taken on so much hate, and so much pressure that I've become numb?


Has life fired one too many bullets at me and forced me to build a wall around my fragile heart?


Do I lie to those I love to protect myself, and lie to myself to protect them?


Am I really the kind of person who doesn't truly trust anyone enough to even consider letting them in enough to help lift the weight?


The weight of my insecurities,
My lowest moments,
My biggest fears,
My major issues.


Would I rather be crushed under all that weight than risk even the smallest possibility of getting hurt?


Is that really who I want to be?


Are these really options to be considered?


Yes,
They are.


Because all though I'm scared to confess this,
And all though it fills me with rage every time I look back at my past,
And fills me with sadness when I look at some of the stuff that's happened;


It's part of who I am.


I've allowed myself to drown in fear.
I've exploded, and demolished entire friendships with my anger.
I've hidden myself in sadness.


Because that was me.


But I've also laughed at memories of my childhood.
I've shrieked and howled in happiness as I've adventures outside of my home,
I've cried tears of joy as I've told my friends my story, and have them support me.


Because through out all of this, I've really learned one thing.


Maybe I wear weird clothes, and talk to myself sometimes.
Maybe I obsess over strange things and talk non-stop about said things.
Maybe I'd rather spend my time in a library reading than sit at a table of strangers,
Maybe I dream wild things, and rebel against others to prove myself right.


Maybe I am different.


But that's okay.


Because different is beautiful.


It's unique, creative, fantastic, mystical, enchanting and simply, fascinating.


Different is being able to say, "Yah, I did that." And not give a damn what others think.


Because you are you.


You may not be a model, or a pop star, or an athlete, or smart.


But you are special, and that's gorgeous.


So yeah, I am different.


And that's what makes me proud of who I am.


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There you go guys! So that went out to all of you, who are having a hard time, or have ever been hurt, or just simply don't really just much they're worth. Hopefully this cheered you up a little and made you think a little better about yourself.


Thanks for everything guys, I love you all!


You're busiest friend, and poet,
The Nerdy Blogger
(Brooklyn Wilkins)


P.S. QUOTE OF THE POST: "Forget the risk, take the fall. If it's what you want, It's worth it all." ~Anonymous