Lonesome Serenity

By Hannah Mo

Everyone has felt alone, they say. You’re never truly alone, they say. But I feel alone. Do you feel alone too? But maybe that’s what makes us so much alike. Maybe that shared feeling is why they say we aren’t alone. But I’m alone. I must be to feel these things so strongly and dangerously. These sick twisted things of life that set me on this road can’t be commonplace. Do you feel my pain?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Hannah Mo
• Release date: Apr 3, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301055319

Hannah Mo

I live in South Carolina. I have one spoiled rotten Chinchilla named Sari and a bipolar Siamese cat named Mimi. I love both of my little monsters to death. I am one of 4 siblings, though there are only two of us currently in the house. And I am a high school student. I got into publishing my work because of my senior project and hope to continue on publishing other works. When I was growing up I constantly had music playing and a book in my hands. From the time I first learned how, I have always loved to read. I wrote stories some when I was really little but they mostly incorporated those that I already knew. When I was in the 7th grade my best friend was talking about moving away. That really upset me and for the first time I wrote a story of my own. I found it was a relief to get all those thoughts and feelings out in an indirect way. Then my 8th grade year my mom remarried, I changed schools, broke up with my longest boyfriend, and lost all my friends that I’d known for years. I was completely devastated but all I had was my mind. So, I started writing poetry. Mostly love sick or heartbroken things. I got up a little courage and after a while had one of my friends regularly reading them. She told me they were good and I’ve been writing, and improving my writing, both in stories and in poems for the past 4 years.

Book preview

All the faces in the crowd,

Who am I to stand out?

I hear that I can light up smiles,

Yet I don’t bother with woos or wiles.

Product of a broken home,

Loving most to be alone.

I always say just what I think,

And I tend to put it down in ink.

Emotions flow through untamed,

Spinning up stories that will bring me fame.

Books in my hands in quiet places,

Fantasy forming while studying faces.

Do you see what I see?

The outlines of ignorant and overexposed people.

Each new face tells a different story,

One most miss relishing on fault and glory.

I tend to stick to solitude,

I find fewer friends increases gratitude.

Love for me is a fiery passion,

And distaste is its own fashion.

Study to achieve on high scales,

Impressing with my lack of fails.

Yet wanting simple in the end,

Because when the show’s over, I won’t pretend.

If...

If I were a wiser woman,

I wouldn't think of you.

I wouldn't wonder where you are,

Or what you're going through.

If I were sensible,

I wouldn't be so love sick.

I wouldn't care about your choices,

I'd step out as you took your pick.

If I could go anywhere,

My choice should not be to your side.

I shouldn't want to be so close,

When I know you're prone to hide.

If I was more logical,

I'd think more than I feel.

I'd leave you lost and all alone,

In search of something real.

If I cared less,

I would never love despite abuse.

I would take my craving for attention,

And leave behind a mind obtuse.

If I could but I can't,

You're all I want and all I will take.

I still love you over all,

Because I'm drunk on feeling myself break.

Whispered Cries

I want to be a part of you,

Never want this to be through.

Painting hearts on over holes,

Living in limbo has its tolls.

Wake up tired from a rough night’s dreams,

Trying to set my fears at ease.

Always different but the same,

The same old pattern rearranged.

Picture perfect but cold inside,

Nothing here left to hide.

Scared to love you as I want,

Feeling murder in your hunt.

Say you love me with all of you,

I can’t even begin with I love you too.

See your face in my dreams,

A heart bursting at the seams.

Always afraid that you will go,

So in love, you can’t begin to know.

My Love’s Abusive Cycle

Write our names in blood,

Wrap me in this love.

Show me hell’s passion,

Teach