Holding On

Whenever I snuck out of my own thoughts,

I found this daydream calling me out.

I stumble, I get up; I forget, I remember.

I am holding on to something that is only in my thoughts.

This day, this day of snow in the shine

turns something inside of me blue.

Now I am afraid if it’s too late

to live in harmony with my faults;

decorate them on the branches of my memories like a reward.

And I keep holding on to this day:

A day of snow, a day of shine, a day to maybe remember me by.


4 thoughts on “Holding On

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  1. This is interesting reading. “This day … turns something inside of me blue.”But of course only we can turn a day that is simply itself a day ‘blue.’ Isn’t this so?

    Maybe because the writer fails to recognize this truth (that perceptions are personal), the fear arises that she or he will be unable to live in harmony with perceived faults. Then they kind of use these as a decoration in memory, ‘like a reward.’ Huge point: This is recognized!

    I don’t know how old the writer is, but most people are not this aware of their inner workings, nor able to then create such poignant words that flow from that inner space. This post is brilliant. Extremely revealing from a very, very tender place inside.

    (Oh, and forgive me for being at all presumptuous. I was simply moved to comment with how the poem hit me. Good work. Aloha.)

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you so much for this comment. It makes us feel great that someone is taking out time to read our stuff and like it enough to say such kind words.
      Yes, you are correct. The writer does perceive the day turns him blue because he is looking for someone to take the blame for his actions and what’s better for that than this seemingly perfect day. The perfection of the day looks to him like a direct dig at his imperfection.
      The writer is 21 years old and was very moved by your encouraging words and support. Thank you so much, and we hope you like our future writings as well.

      Liked by 1 person

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