Okay, so this isn't really a poem, its the lyrics to a song I wrote. Sadly it doesn't have the same effect on me as it does when the instrumental is being played in the background, but any way:

(I haven't named it yet)

Blank, Expressions cease survival,

only under doors or by the candle-light they live.

desist, barricades construct them-self's.

with the soles of others shoes them seem to fall.

words on a paper- ink from a pen.

danger from the outside- comfort from within

You glue me together,

true here are my colors,

Hope springs in my eyes

Love feeling my life.

Its more than a heart-beat you helped me on my feet

but I still cover their eyes,

Pretend its not a lie.

Dawn, leads into a new life

Gone, displaced from my old strife.

Now dipped into a stream, that covers up our seams

Swimming in the filth to fit the mold

Why are you so free?

I'll beg you on my knee's for another try

Is this really how you live your life?

You glue me together,

True, Here are my colors

The hope springs from my eyes

The loves feeling my life

Is this the real you?

How are you so true?

Trample down the way

Follow you any day.

This poem uses some of the same language I had used in Pandora's box, but it was a completely new emotion, so I wrote a new poem

Wings

My feet are glued to the earth- bound with ropes of fear and chains of conformity.

Wings of hope sprout from my shoulders. I hold the key of courage.

slowly- I unlock my fears.

My wings spread and breath in the blue sky's of opportunity.

fading into the open air.

free... free... it whispers

I am a Pandora's box.
Bound in fear, tipped with barbed edges.
The fear in me prevents me from realising the hope that good may come from this.
I am full.
I have love, hope, peace, hate, confusion and understanding twined together in an unbreakable not.
Open me.
Untie me.
You get it all or nothing.

The grey winter sky peels like eggshells,
Revealing a layer of blue and white, streaked with gold.

Stone grey grounds crumble and melt into tiny green sprouts and young budded flowers.

Miniature, delicate grass blades take their first gasps of air like infants;

breathing in life.

Warm wind spreads her wings and whispers life into the dead winter landscape,

transforming it into a bed of new life.

Spring time

Mikayla Bloomquist

Walls

A cold chill reaches for my toes and pules itself us my legs,

as I sit their holding them tight against my body.

It needs no invitation.

my emotions plead for me to realize them,

they cry from behind the bars holding them deep within my heart.

I am expressionless,

I will not let my emotions loose.

I know what lurks in the corners of my heart and I am not yet prepared to face it.

Along with the hope that with free my mind and soul of depression,

the depression that somehow sneaks past the cell walls where my emotions are kept.

Along with that hope will come fear

fear. Fear. FEAR.

Something ominous and secluded brings back the chill that I had forgotten.

My heart moans, It is worn to its capacity

Like a rubber band it is stretched to its limit and It snaps.

The emotions that begged to be realised run freely now,

baring no limits.

Suddenly I am filled with the walls of fear and the army's of hope.

The healing the peace and Joy give flows to my fingertips and then up to my ears.

The emotions reach out and they work themselves into every crevice of my body.

It works its way to the corners of my eyes and spills tears of fear and hatred,

peace and happiness.

How long could I sacrifice this joy I felt to the mercy that fear held?

How long had I sacrificed my joy to the justice of depression?

My tears flowed freely now,

I held nothing back.

Through the tears a realization of the pain that the emotions pressure brought exploded.

I understood how much sorrow had been compressed in my heart.

That was gone now, hopes bright ray drew a road before my feet.

Now tears of hope ran from my face.

And with every drop they gave wings to the fear and sorrow,

depression and pain.

And everything I held inside disappeared in the ray of light before me.

Mikayla Bloomquist

From the Soul

The cold grass breathes between my toes,
Life feels full and rich against a fiery sunset,
I can almost feel its warmth against my feet frozen on the ground.
Then I wait.
Not for something,
not for anything.
Within the soft breath of the life around me,
and then I can feel my own coming back.
The fullness of the beauty removes the worthlessness that stings me,
removes the hate that cuts into my soul,
slowly, surely.
A warmth that doesn't come from sunsets sets aside A coldness not from morn' dew,
and sadly it only sets it aside as if the warmth knows it won't be there forever,
as if it knows the moment I leave I will almost welcome the cold I'm so familiar with.
the thought makes warm tears streak down my face,
If only I knew, If only I could tell my self what I would be missing,
I plead I can.
Mikayla Bloomquist

Introduction

The inksplotch notebook is basically a writing sketchpad, poems and thoughts from me and inspirational quotes or poems from other people. I will try to write in it as often as possible, or just whenever I get around to it. Usually whenever something pops into my head I try to write it down as quickly as possible so It doesn't escape from me as my thoughts usually do when not recorded instantly. I try to be diverse in what I write but most of my writing is purely emotion. I hope you'll enjoy.