Sunday, July 27, 2025

Unfortunate Habits


The longer I try to keep my distance
the harder it is to look back
and trust that there is genuine care rupturing
out of a human dynamic
I want to believe so hard that there is
no single-sided pain
but I'm over here burning up with
irrational mood swings
and skeptical antics

Thought patterns, around the clock
and inducing the panic 
Walking backward into corners
and blindly choosing to make a move
I want to skip a turn
to hold in place long enough
to access my own mental crevices
without doing something stupid

Maintaining this distance stings
The ominous, lack of approach keeps me from unleashing
a tsunami of unarranged thoughts
and paranoias that serve no one

I'm aware of how I am  
Looking back is not living in the past
Looking back is surveying what can be done differently
and proceed forward

I'm rejecting and attempting to not
unravel spoken tangents
because what I felt
serves no one and I'd rather
drive myself mad
than reveal pointless sad heart syndrome
on anyone

Isolation is only the beginning of the one lane highway
I'm here with a full tank of gas to brave this one.


~Tina Meeks

Thursday, July 24, 2025

I'm Fine.

When I'm feeling trapped, I don't know how to handle it

I'm trapped when I don't know how to handle it when I'm feeling

I don't know how to handle it when I'm feeling trapped

How to handle it when I'm feeling trapped, I don't know

I don't know when I'm feeling trapped or how to handle it 


~Tina Meeks











Monday, July 21, 2025

Before the Closing

 

Before falling asleep I think about all
that I've 
done in the day
or
what 
the day has done with me, rather.
Hiding myself from you and running away,
whilst 
watching the empty streets and hoping
you'd appear.

I hide myself, yet beg for you silently.
Terrified that I never saw it coming before.
Denied it could ever be true.
You could actually tear me apart from the inside
if you wanted to.

Thus, the damage of this marathon run down heart
and evaporated motivation
but the moment you drape yourself
over me I drift into somewhere that has no structure
- some kind of dimension that exists
because you have gifted it to me.

And I love being here because things
happen as they want to without
initiation, like lightning.
If I have to go a single night
without you I think I'd fall apart even more.

I'd dig myself deeper into the crevices of the
creaky floorboards and stew in the wreckage.
At night when you're not there is a romanticized
particle of shuffling in the sheets,
pressing against the cold so, nothing can have my attention while restlessly
spacing out and dreading the seconds passing by without you
wishfully thinking that any moment now,
I close my eyes and you'd be right there.


~Tina Meeks

Thursday, July 17, 2025

Nostalgic Loneliness


Pitch black, every room full in a home
The heater on three but the house stays cold
Same thoughts on repeat and it's out of control
Retain more info when it's told and retold
I feel a type of way when it's damp and it rains
Think about growing up each night, each day
Don't really know who I am
Don't know what to say
Now every night I just lay here awake
So I want to send everyone a text
With something like "yes, no, yes"
So tappity tap on the screen press press
Hopes to stimulate and feel less alone
Let's talk about school and then digress
Still solus and brains on one's own

~Tina Meeks

Wednesday, July 16, 2025

Mr. Turner

Is it true?
Your 6 strings no longer inspire you and serve your sanctity?
A person of so much desire
embodying sultry in vocal form
Spoken rasp and honest brash,
setting a standard and tone to anyone familiar with AM
Distinct strum and fret play
- those fingers you're flicking and stroke up and down that board
Lay those fingers on me, baby
Play me like the way you say you fell in love with piano
How do you think we'd harmonize?


~Tina Meeks

Tuesday, July 15, 2025

This Moment

 Sometimes, there are moments when you feel so much and have no idea how to put them into words or make sense so you just bottle it all in and say nothing but feel the feels and sponge it all up because how else makes sense to process and what's there to process when you feel sad about most things and crying only does so much and no one knows and having no direction and inspiration and holding patterns stir up more and you feel like you're going to explode and at the same time nothing at all but feeling sad so sitting alone in the dark staring past the dim light is the only mildly comforting thing that also isolates and feels just as depressing and running away sounds so perfect and have no where to run to so going with no destination in mind seems fine I guess.

A Night in Greenville


In the sunken land beneath the forests open trenches and
above the soil,
Of all of the branches and pine cones on and off the highway
playing games and toying.
There are secrets unseen and
trains whistling in between
that go unnoticed.

What are other unfallen treasures in the forest that can be heard?
The train rumbles and choos closer while the fire
crackles in the late dusk.
The train pushes against the steel leaving a hum behind
almost like a helicopter passing while the flames
die down in a short amount of time
dimming on an imaginary timeline of grace.

There are enough grandparent trees to conceal most of the stars.
Enough to count until braving the open sky.
Birds have gone to sleep after singing the blooms good night
and soon come morning, there will be the reply.
The wind is hushed.
Invisible as it may,
hanging pine needles are not spared by the push
of the passing by gusts.
Supporting the rise and fall of the debris and dust.

Morning is not far off.
The eagerness of tomorrow presses up against the cusp
separating dawn and dusk
like oil and water.
Passing through the precipice is a journey through
delirium and anticipation.
Surviving another night speaks volumes when at the heel of unknown in the darkness of trees.

The wind has moved on and no more falling kindling.
The fire has put a pause to the dancing and laughing and simply glows in the night breathing warmth near.
It's nearly time to accept tomorrow as now and continue on.

Until the flames dissipate entirely this
moment merely is dependent on the
fleeting seconds holding on.
 


~Tina Meeks

Wednesday, July 9, 2025

Present

 

Condensed into a smaller period of time.
Tummy rumbles.
All I wanted was the sun to kiss my skin.
To caress my being, simply, as I basked in the prevalence of warmth
like a dry shower.
Perfectly warm and relaxing,
I needed nothing but to rest my body.
I was temporarily paralyzed under the sea of radiance.
My wonderings were of no judgment,
only curiosities and acceptance.
I had surrendered to anything that came over me.
The images in my head were swirling around and coming together.
Other alphabet systems created words laid out.
The word, "Ashriv" appeared as itself and the reflection of itself in reverse.
I am small in a sea of feelings and things.
Simply being.
A small existence among large happenings.
I an now sitting in the middle of the woods.
Came out here hoping to connect with myself and the trees and for some reason, I'm feeling pure lonesome and wishing to love and be loved.
There is so much love in the world to give and receive.
I only want to feel it and see it like it's some tangible thing.
Maybe that's ignorant or senseless.
Lately I have no idea where my head even is and what I may even want in life right now so what sense would it make?
I am resilient and seeing so much beauty in people and find enjoyment in the simplest of things.
I am eager to feel at peace and grounded again.
I feel whole and confident and somewhat secure in my body.
Nothing has been stripped away from my being though my ego, pressed up against enough to question its position.
I want to run away from how I'm feeling and find comfort somewhere and hide.
And I can't.
There's no way to run outside of my own body and pretend to feel otherwise.
I am hurt, I acknowledge that, and have no grasp on myself like I wish I did.


~Tina Meeks

Monday, July 7, 2025

Just Your Average Friday, I Guess

 

The trees stand glowing

in the rays of the sun

with their leaves,

a loud chartreuse and still.

Between those leaves rest shadows,

like pockets of dark memories

or experiences that are ever shifting

beneath the altering sunlight peering.

Like a secondary thought that gets grazed over.

The shadowy undermounts modestly 

holding space

and the fleeting hope 

to be noticed

goes by in a hushed breeze.


~Tina Meeks