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About my everyday life, my struggles with addiction, sexual abuse, bipolar and family |
A blog about my life and how I got through some serious issues in hopes for a better tomorrow  |
| Well I had two of my poems rejected at Poetry Magazine. This is my first time writing poetry for money. I just need to find a magazine that likes my style of writing. I am going to keep trying though. At least I know my poetry touches people here on writing.com. Writing.com has been very good to me. |
| I'm not one who can express my feelings well nor cry in front of someone. Here is a poem I wrote for that. These Eyes I Cried My eyes were swelling up with tears, As I tried to force them down. Afraid to let others see, My smile turned into a frown. My tears dried up, I felt safe. Vulnerability was my fear. Afraid to let my feelings go and show sadness in my tears. In a moment they were back, Threatening to wet my face. I gave in, I just let go, With sadness and with grace. These tears I cried of sorrow, For the death of someone dear. My soul was cleansed my eyes were dry, I was able to confront my fear. WRITTEN BY: KYM ERICKSON 11/3/12 Kymberly Erickson |
| A fantasy kiss can last a lifetime only if you make it a reality. Only In My Dreams A kiss for you a kiss for me, A hot and sexy embrace. The way you touch my body, With such eloquence and grace. You arms are wrapped around me, Your face is close to mine. I can feel your breath before me, Your lips are like cherry wine. Mesmerized by your eyes. The secret to your soul. Let me kiss you one more time, Then forever we’ll be whole. A kiss just like the first one, Passionate and bitter sweet. This kiss is just a fantasy, For you and I did not meet. WRITTEN BY: KYM ERICKSON 10/30/12 |
| A serious poem about a father being murdered and the aftermath left for his daughter. I’m kneeling next to my bed With my hands together in prayer. Hoping and praying that God Will keep daddy in his care. He left me just a year ago but the memories still remain. He left in such a tragic way, How could I ever be the same. He was shot to death in his car Driving alone late at night. The bullet hit him in his chest, His car swerved, he hit the light. He was pronounced dead instantly, A horrible sight to see. Why did God take my daddy, When he should have taken me? When my daddy died that day, He took a piece of me too. My heart just laid there broken, As I kept saying I love you. Time has minimized some pain, While the memories start to fade. For our love will be eternal Because from him I was made. |
| I wrote this poem. Almost felt like I had done it myself. The Girl in the Closet A little girl in the closet, Tortured, battered and bruised. Cries for hours to get out but only feels more confused. She feels neglected and shameful. For everything’s her fault. She doesn’t know what she has done but feels the pain from their assault. The little girl in the closet Is ignored and bruised some more. Every time her mom and dad Opens up the closet door. She’s starving with no food to eat, Except scraps from her parents meals. Her body cries from hunger, That’s the one thing she feels. Her hair is dirty, full of knots. She goes weeks without a bath. She sits in her own urine, While her parents sit there and laugh. This little girl is dying. She’s alive but cannot cope. Death is always on her mind, To kill the helplessness without hope. WRITTEN BY: KYM ERICKSON 10/24/12 |
| About painting a family tree without a mother who is deceased.... Reunited Through Love I’m a girl at the easel chair Painting a picture over there. A family tree for all to see Includes my dad and then there’s me. A picture painted with such pride It makes me feel good inside. Fond memories we used to share, Within our hearts, we do care. But God came over the other day and took my beautiful mom away. I cried for days, months and years, Without my mom I felt fear. I painted my picture with my mom Despite the fact that she is gone. Our family tree includes her too, I miss you mom, I do love you. The family tree indeed was done We’re all together having fun. Day or night she’s in my heart Up in heaven we’ll never part. WRITTEN BY: KYM ERICKSON 10/22/12 |
| About a week ago, I fell and sprained my ankle and tore some ligaments so I have been hobbling around. Haven't made it to a meeting for a week. I know I need to go back but it just seems that things are ok with meetings. I also had a tube put in my right year yesterday. So far that isn't working out so great. Hope it improves. My body seems to be falling apart right now. Haven't written any new poems. Just trying to get well. |
| My father was physically abusive to my mother for years. This poem was written from my experience. Colors (Many Colors) Award Winner The colors black and yellow, Resemble a bruise that’s aged. Stricken by the hand of a man Causing me all this rage. Beaten for the very last time, A life misunderstood. I packed my things to leave him This time it was for good. Black and yellow of my dreams, Shattered into tiny pieces. Like laundry out of the dryer, It’s wrinkled with many creases. Lies and gossip for all to hear, Life’s been difficult at best. Fear lives inside of me, It’s hard to get some rest. Black and yellow more than colors, Together they make brown. The happy smile I used to have, Has been turned upside down. This journey I must now survive, Has a destiny that I choose. Strength I found on the inside, Helps this battle I will not lose. No more black, just need yellow, To paint me the nearest rainbow. Brighter days are up ahead Since I finally let him go. Written by: KYM ERICKSON 2/17/11, 3/30/11, 4/25/11, 5/31/11, 11/2/11, 12/16/11, 1/9/12 |
| I made my last amends to my father and that went very well. I am now officially done with the 12 steps and I feel great. It was a year ago this month that I told my father I was a drug addict addicted to methanphetamines. What a difference as year makes. I am proud :) |
| A lighthearted poem and how I wish it was for me when I was a little girl. Daddy’s Home She hears a noise outside the door Then suddenly sees bright lights. She knows that this is daddy, Coming home late at night. She dances with excitement, As he gets out of his car. She know’s that he’ll be happy For she’s his little star. He opens up the front door, She runs into his arms. Reunited with each other, He greets her with his charm. For she is daddy’s little girl, He loves her with all his heart. The hardest part of the day, Is when they are apart. He reads to her a story and kisses her on her nose. He watches her fall asleep As both eyes slowly close. Tomorrow they will start again and be happy when they do. As daddy’s girl she’s special, Who really loves him to. WRITTEN BY: KYM ERICKSON 10/4/12 |
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created by God continue to light your way and blanket you with his loving warmth from the cold dark path of drugs and alcohol. You Are Awesome =) Take care.
cause I am.... but I relate to what this poem itself is saying. I wish I had an angel, someone to lean on, I guess you can say... but don't think I understood belief in angels et cetera... I guess I am just glad that even in creativity someone can understand what we go through--even if its just a creative fictional level.
