Trai R. Hawthorne
Bio
Welcome I’m Trai!
Content ranging from poetry; to short-stories, current thoughts, etc. Click around & browse! I like to write for the creative thrill & expression! I'm on the verge of something!
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Stories (8/0)
Conclusive.
“Sadness”. Coming from an inner disappointment. Wanting to make you proud of what I have done, what I have become, my potential. But the only thing that really made you happy is the things that didn't give me passion. Aliveness. I made you this, made you that. It didn't seem to be enough. Or I didn't get the excited joyful reaction that I longed for. The same energy I put into it, I wanted it back in the same reactions. I wanted you to know I could shine by myself. You were impressed and I was disappointed. I threw away those ideals and gained the ones that would perhaps make you see how much potential I had. Even that wasn't enough. I eventu-ally gave up and was stuck on doing what I had to do and not what I wanted to do. All just to impress you. I'd make you a drawing, I'd make you food, I'd show you what I learned and how smart I was on my own but my idea never matched your satisfaction. I believed in myself so much and wanted you to know it and love the fact that I believed. I wanted you to receive my manifestation of love and awh. And not shame it for something "nice", "good job", "no I don't want any right now", "I'm sure it's nice", or "I’m proud of you". I never felt your satisfaction. It was so dry and that's all I wanted. I love creating and wanted you to love what I created. When the reactions never met the effort put into it I became sad. I wanted to impress you, I wanted your approval. I wanted you to be as happy for me as "they" make it seem anywhere else. Your opinion mattered more than anything, you were a reflection. You were the creator, you were my God, and I wanted god to see what I could do. God didn't show interest in my projects, points of view, didn't care how it was made. I started doing what you were doing, and you weren't impressed unless it was exactly like yours - word for word, spell for spell, measure for measure. I began to hate you for going against my views, my wishes, and throwing them away because of my age, and gender. Growing and coming about I realized you never believed in me or had faith in me. You thought I would fail or fuck up more than being successful and profitable. Icing a joyous life. I always knew it. I know that being sad came from not living to your expectations. My only savior is now knowing I don't need to live up to your views and expected experience. I just need to do me for the sake of doing me. I'm always safe and happy when I realize that. I will release that blockage of being sad and turn it to confidential power. I know I got it, never went far.
By Trai R. Hawthorne3 years ago in Poets
The Whys
The whys, and why’s for the wise. Despite my unfaithful plea of thoughts that scar me and were fair to me, you know you don’t gotta rely on me. Or reply to me. You don’t gotta face me, you could even erase me. You could wish to make a blank of me, but one thing you can’t do is; make me hate, despise, or resent you, though I had an obvious clue – I already do
By Trai R. Hawthorne5 years ago in Poets
Healing Ain't Easy
“Going through a healing ain't easy. So many suppressed emotions, unwanted feelings, heavy heart, heavy breathing, fearing the anxiety will take me over. Feel like I'm going insane and off my game. I know it's a mental spirit warfare inside. Wanting to identify the troubles that still haunt me. Can't meditate it away. Wanting to just give up to my lower nature, I know I'll find the answer. Healing ain't easy I want it to hurry and pass. So many thoughts wondering what it could be; refusing to take any substance to just face it head on. If my individuality is gonna break I accept the power struggle over my fate... Healing ain't easy.”
By Trai R. Hawthorne5 years ago in Poets
Dual
“To be vital, and nourished. To view life at its purest. No definite title for the objective view, a thousand words and sounds to give anything close to a clue of what is true. I lie cause the truth hurts. I tell the truth cause the lie is worse. A blessing and a curse, but not really what it seems of course. I dreamed and felt it. I woke up and it left me disappointed. The truths and the lies are often double jointed, hell, mine as well be flexible to fit the scale. I failed that was a lie, I failed that was the truth. I succeeded that was a lie, I succeeded that was the truth. Either end of the stick can be proof of the vision that became the decision”.
By Trai R. Hawthorne5 years ago in Poets
