Tell the Truth

It is easier to tell the truth than to maintain a lie. 

Dear folks, consider the above statement.

Don’t we all wish people would just cut to the chase and speak the truth? I sure do. The truth can’t be worse than the [fallout from a] lie.

I would just prefer that you say what you have to say. Just be open-minded. I would much rather have the truth upfront than to be led to believe in a lie and later be devastated to find out that the statements were untrue. Lies breed betrayal, anger, sadness, and loss of trust.

It is easier to tell the truth than to maintain a lie. 

Be great,

x, V

Update!

Hi all!

 

I haven’t updated in months and I feel so bad about that! Life has been flying along.

I’m changing the format of this blog slightly. It won’t be solely dedicated to poetry anymore but I’ll still be posting poetry at times. Its more of an all-encompassing blog on my life and musings as well as art (poetry, videos, music, interviews!)

You can now connect with me more! Check the sidebar on the page, as well as the ‘About Victoria’ section.

Hopefully you rock with the new process! Will update as time goes on.

 

much love,

Victoria

 

Time/Let Go

Time is the wave that pounds on the shore
time after time 'til eventually the pain erodes
leaving you battered, torn and worn.
Time, that same wave, constantly taking, draining.
The feeling recedes but the pain comes in tidal waves, 
and washes your awareness away 
It's time. Why did you tie an anchor to your soul?

Such a heavy weight dragging inspiration down. 
Underwater; everything magnified but without sound
Gasping for breath yet wishing for death. 
And you can feel it.
It's been there all along
At your mind's precipice
Waiting for acknowledgement. 

You refuse to believe the blatant truth
You flail blindly against the demons swirling before you
And descend into the mystical mist, 
baptizing yourself in notions and ideas and
everything but what the evidence presents.

You did this to yourself, 
but it wasn't your fault. 
You can't control your heart, 
it wasn't entirely your fault.
You were destined to be on a collision course.
You wouldn't, you couldn't have known.
The only hope is for rescue when you're out to sea, 
for a beacon to shine a light so you can see, 
for life to still have meaning after death. 
To feel again after taking your last breath. 
Let go.

Possessive Pronouns and Adjectives

Restless.

Can’t sleep at nights

Restless.

I long for

the touch of mine other,

an instant balm,

a soother.

 

My my,

you used

to be

something

I could say was

mine.

 

You are my love.

You are

everything I thought

could be for me,

bottled up in an elixir

a life-giving liquid

exchanged only between

h/break

A continuous process.

It should

therefore

be

a series of heartbreaks.

My chest

cannot take

the bullets.

My fragile

seat of life

is wounded.

It is ripped

Performance Poetry!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_0BRvE-ybq8 Hi all, here is video of one of my performances at a local open mic show called Floetry Fridays. This poem is called ‘The Return’ – it chronicles the journey through the memory of a woman raised in Barbados but living abroad, and her return to the island brings back all these memories. Enjoy! Video by Kayla-Mariah. See more of her work here

distrust.

trust.

they ask

why can’t you accept

that everyone isn’t

the same?

why can’t you

forgive me?

over again

and again,

they ask

why we don’t believe

they ask

why we are

bitter and bereaved

why we are

depressed and bereft

why we are

be mine.

Glancing

at our picture in the frame

It might as well just be your picture,

I only see your face.

Do you love me?

Or do you love

the idea of me?

The idea of having

what you shouldn’t

is always intriguing

ever alluring

Ever drawing you to my shores

and you come every time

all that happens is,

White Horses, Red Sunsets

Long patches of memories

stretching long and lazily

like deserted beaches kissed by sun in paradise.

Long patches of memories

rolling scenes like movies running

replaying the good old days

still.

Still creating new ones to dream about.

Oh hush, don’t pout.

White horses and red sunsets

Sleeping beauty.

Breathing, sleeping, eyes closed

must be sleeping

dreaming

Thoughts on Love.

Love is resilient.

Love stretches to fit.

It lasts long as its bonds strengthen with time.

It sticks, and grows stronger the longer it lasts.

It makes its way through a soul.

Rerouting the brain, shocking the nerves, taking over actions. 

 *** *** ***

Love doesn’t matter if it changes nothing.

It doesn’t matter if it doesn’t change mindsets; if it doesn’t move mountains of thought.

It doesn’t matter if it doesn’t elicit responses, if it doesn’t make a difference.

It doesn’t matter if it doesn’t rip you to shreds and rebuild you again.

Love doesn’t matter unless it takes you to the ends of the earth,

unless it makes you search for meaning and question all understanding,

unless it makes you follow the path of truth and righteousness.

It matters as long as something changes inside.

Love, love is everything.

Love is the most exquisite pain, it burns to heal and rejuvenate. 

Love manifests itself in many ways.

I see love when I look at your face.

I feel love when you do what you say.