Self
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She wanted you,
but she needed something else
not for herself though
so she did what she knew best
she let her wishes go
she choose the need
and she did get it
she should be happier-a bit
at the edge of the world
I stand and take in
the spray of waves on my face
the expanding sky
at the edge of the ocean
I wait for a sign
It is not because you miss, crave, or yearn for something
that it comes to you
It is because that something misses, craves, yearns for you
that it comes to you.
The thick grey clouds rise
revealing baby blue sky underneath
A new warmer breeze blows
spring scent
fresh, welcome, healing
I am filled with new promise
hope, courage, compassion for myself
An earthquake inside me
Rumbling my core
Shaking never ending
Pieces of me fall
down
and down
The Core is buried
You must change
You're doing yourself a favor
Your life is a story
Your voice is the narrator
Life is what you make it
Create your reality
Don't speak negative
Beauty is perpetually imperative to your existence.
You pride thyself on the fact that you can view even the ugliest things as beautiful and groundbreaking,
Every wilted flower has thrown new seeds,
There is a weakness in me.
A small glint
of a child not yet grown.
It lives in me,
And everything I am;
everything I do.
Frost encumbered
yet sitting in the sun
the green grass glows.
Beautiful to the world
but look inside,
its heart froze.
It is a transcendenceof space and time.A place to dieand be bornand liveand learnand lose and gain.
The hate. It rages;
burns my shackles to reality
until I am no longer bound.
So I whither and shrink and hide,
like an arachnid,
Sculpted hammer of divinity comes down, and
My skull is cracked and leaking
Adorned by a veil of mourning glories in full bloom
Laced, tethered stems joining at the base
Soft gentle petals hugging
Heat and terror in a crowd
As prone to spreading as a local disease of the mind
Or a regionally misconstrued concept in society
You cannot define me.
I am but a petalless flower, a bud, sewn shut with transparent thread.
I exist in a reality unlike the one you know, a reality I created within my soul,
Driven by the moon
Though I'm sustained by the sun
I find some refuge in believing
God will hold me when I'm done
Does anyone else feel like I feel?
Like one minute my world is full of light and I have this fire under me that guarentees love, happiness, success
honeysuckle lips
almost touching mine, but not quite
they drip below
the crook of my nose,
slide down,
down,
I roll a blunt and sink deep in my thoughts. I smoke a blunt until I get rid of all of my thoughts. Clouds of smoke then I feel nothing at all.
The road not taken,
The path that I thought lead me,
astray
yet, here I am.
here, I’ll stand—
my heart in my hand,
my soul attached by strings,
my mind tacked by tape and glue—
Make it stop. The rasping of my heart.
The uneven breathing that manages to escape.
I don’t like the dark.
As the rain slips from the roof, a soft pitter-patter.
I reach out my hand—emptiness, is that you?
If I were a leaf on a tree..oh how would I leave ..me
leaving me..would make me laugh..leaving for you..
you think.. you ask...no says I to me...you know..
leaving for free..says me..right now..I would leave me..
On these days at home,
I am left with only myself.
How blank everything feels when you can’t live in the world around you.
The calmness unsettles me.
There are no expectations to be vibrant and eventful.
We are taught
In this life
To keep breathing
To continue with moving motion
Of our hands correlating with our feet
parading helplessly through
the streets of wherever it is we call home.
Trees, thousands of years old
Monoliths of perseverance and life
Great behemoths standing tall
Never giving in to all that assails them
Nor overtaking all that surrounds them
Me, only decades old
Like snakes shed their skin,
I shed my self doubts through creating;
detail by detail, inch by inch,
I turn thoughts phyiscal, I am translating
when I immerse myself in each piece;
on my chest
below my neck
ornaments on my body
i don’t remember asking for
they decorate me
but i seldom feel like art
I come from women
Who prefer not to smile.
From witches and warlocks
And spirits,
I come from the vampires that roam the streets
She was born of woman as a word,
swaddled in question marks but cooed
with answers - statements of soothing reassurance
Tell me why my grip on my purpose always slips. Sometimes it gets too much and I don't know how to handle it.
Love yourself and everything falls into line.
Love others and let your light shine.
Have a nice day and make the world bright.
Make sure every day feels like a glorious flight.
I’ve considered putting my hair
Into a ponytail when I’m sleeping
Because my hair not soft against my
Cheek and gets in my eyes and is
Hot. I’ve also considered getting
Another better-paying job. Both
I wish the color of my skin was a blessing in society's eyes.
Just because I'm not freak'n pale.
Maybe, if I was darker I would get more hate.
I don't know much about football.
The sky was shining blue above,
all the people one in love,
it was almost as if they never heard of
SELF
Is it normal
to want to die?
Is it normal
to want to cry?
Is it normal
to internally scream?
Is it normal
to come apart at the seams?
Is it normal to hate
From the distance,
When the trees that obstruct,
Are deconstructed,
And the towers of steel,
Are forced to kneel,
The Warrior in Truth is an artist.His sword, like a chord it plays death.His tune of destruction; at times it sounds staccato.On occasion, it’s a swirling crash of whistling fate.
And I’m back, once again at the drawing board.
I know life’s a rollercoaster
And I’ll have bad days,
But I always find myself back here;
Come with a headache,
Write with a heartache
Growing up always seems lightyears away
No kid ever realizes that in reality, it is right around the corner and here to stay
Acquiring independence tastes bittersweet
As the changes a child faces are quite a feat
A flashing of emerald trees fly by,
Rusty brick buildings move just as fast, racing the trees.
Sweat drips from a temple, down a neck,
Tangling with short streaky hair.
The Journey
Sometimes life feels so hard and heavy
Maybe even sad.
It happens...
Maybe you take a drive to the top of a
mountain -
and get out and breathe in the air that
It’s when you sit down and your ass already hurts.
The lamp shade remains crooked, but you put it off
Until tomorrow and you start falling into that place;
The place without walls, but filled with floaty feelings,
there’s this girl i used to know.
her name flows blue inside of me-
she was so afraid to show,
who she once was in front of me-
My heart is heavy asking will I ever
be good enough for myself.
When I look at myself why do I peer through
my reflection like it’s nothing?
Like I am nothing.
Even when I say I am good enough and
Feel Free to Fail Me
Because my life should be worth more than a letter on a page
Feel Free To Fail Me
Because my name shouldn't be worth more than who I am
My name on a list
My name on a degree
We are created without consent
Given to those with supreme claim to us
Molding us in the image they see fit
Until conscientious, awoken from youth
We are expected to live with respect
Eleven ounces lighter, I stepped on the gas pedal, Eleven ounces lighter I had to push a little harder. Breathe.Leaving home was too easy. The goodbyes were only temporary. But, what made it difficult was leaving her.
I could never come to terms with how
you viewed me.
You’re so pretty.
You’re so capable.
You have so much potential.
You said that to me the other day.
Every day flying by numbly,
Until the day I decided
the numbness coincided
with failing to forgive myself
I went under it, over it,
around it, but never through it
because that is where
I fear that the cycle continues
That poverty runs behind me for most of the race
But always ends up the winner
I fear that the cycle continues
I whistle a tune
unbeknownst to all
subjugating aerodynamics
take flight in the V, they quack
no? I chose the letter G
I hum a melody
that pricks the ears of Grays
shall they
A is for Affirmative, seeking the positive in othersR is for Ravishing, an entrancing beautyT is for Terrific, so awesomeI is for Important, a valuable contributorS is for Sharp, always observant
I.
Every emotions we have has its colors
Others were basically there to brighten
Like happiness, always there to enlighten
Just like Father,
With strength in my shoulders,
Compassion in my veins,
Others in my thoughts,
I am one-track-minded.
Just like Mother,
With determination painted on my face,
"Compare yourself to you".
"Look for your heart on your sleeve".
Through the lips of my compass.
My savior, my soul, the seeping safety in which I have solemnly become so secure in the arms of my loved one who portrays themself to me in song.
This New Earth
The summer harvest
Has been reaped
To feed our souls.
The last bounty gone
To the dust of leaves,
Clinging to the mother branch
This, a River
This, a river,
I am not lines but curves
Winding around sand bars
Creating islands
Revealed in low tide
My current pulses life
Tadpoles, carp, algae
I smile in light
Without my glasses on, the world softens at about 10 feet.
Usually it feels Constricting, Confining, Claustophobic,
But today, it is my happy tent of reality.
I write to you to praise you.
For the way that you have hurt me
in ways that cannot be described.
They cannot be described
because they were not out of malice,
Hey,
Remember that time you had your heart broken by that girl you first loved?
Not an elementary love, but the real stuff
Darkness and isloation
the only two things I ever used to know
mind your business
hold your head down
don't let anyone know you are here
you exist
you take up space
but that doesn't matter
Lead boots stomp,
Dust landing on nothing,
And everything all at once,
Intertwined pieces of self,
No longer connected at the seams,
Unravelling persona,
Cracking through shaky wooden beams,
water wraps around my legs
sticky with salt
and bone numbing wisdom
my fingertips stroke murky clouds
billowing across
the sea’s glass
Remember that monster under my bed,
Claws like a lion and six eyes on its head.
That old monster creeping beneath me
Always making me shout for my dad to go see.
That monster who never did one bad thing to me,
They call me Medusa,
a monster forgotten; and here? No katharevusa.
The fickle-eyed ancient damned my life in a proxy fight;
jealous? Of what, the rape of an innocent acolyte?
The lust of a capricious potency,
I look in the mirror
And do not recognize
The reflection
Which stares back at me directly.
Who have I become?
She is not who she once was
It taught me to write
It taught me to read
It taught me to want
It taught me to need
It taught me to rhyme
It taught me to see
It taught me to help
It taught me to be
There are two of me
The first me – the real me – is a good kid
Does what their parents ask, be nice to everyone,
never push the limits
The second me is a lost soul
A body with missing pieces
You broke my trust
Now you've lost me
I won't come back
I won't call
I tried
And you lost me
We won't talk
We won't be friends
You won't be anything to me
You lost me
"Don't set yourself on fire to make others warm."
Yet I carry matches in my right pocket at all times.
Break the bonds of doubt
You are a slave to you,
Change you
To change your world,
If you don't change your approach
The outcome will not change.
Break the bonds of fear
You are chained to you
I don't know what I'm doing.
I don't know where I'm at.
I don't know where I'm heading,
And I don't know who I am.
The earth beneath me is spinning;
I am here and now I'm not.
I celebrate myself as I mourn myself.
For days I cried, for days I wandered, lost.
For days I was afraid, so afraid.
So lost.
So lost.
For days I rejoiced, life was so good.
When I was little I luxuriated in you
Let your legs carry me up trees and into castles
Past fire breathing dragons
And over sidewalk chalk
You danced me in ballet class
With my head held high
Dear Future Sadie,
I’m a big procrastinator
The world is filled with amazing sights to see and sounds to hear and people to meet,
I, a deer in blinding headlights.
Whirring wheels screech against the asphalt.
Demanding movement but provoking frozen fear.
Dear reflection,
I am the lone sparrow that glides through the dead forest,
I am mute but yet I still speak.
A mockingbird that's tune falls on deaf ears.
Dear Reflection,
I am the lone sparrow that glides through the dead forest,
I am mute but yet I still speak.
A mockingbird that's tune falls on deaf ears.
Dear hands,
Stop shaking stop picking.
I wish you'd be still and
Stop scratching stop flicking.
Listen,
Dear pen,
We’ve been together for years
Changing with the seasons
And yet our character is still the same.
Across thousands of pages,
Next year I will be able to look at you and see a distant memory
All these broken pieces of you will be put back together
Still cracked and fragmented
But still one piece
Dear Future Self...I really hope that you are not theMe that I am now.The one who is too patientFor her own good.
A twinkle in a kind souls eye,Lights smile with a single try.Sheepish grin, unsure of speach,A brush of hand, while just in reach.
Pain and Sadness
Joy and Glee,
By these words you may know me,
But is it I you truly know?
Or just the me that I borrow.
We hold our Hope so close inside,
Laugh with those who us deride,
Our true person untouchable,
While evils only scratch outside.
A blended mix of Pride and Fear
Upon reflection
There’s a madness that resides
Where an emptiness used to
Thinking back on the kites that lead me by the wrists through the past
to my Self,
you have always been,
are,
and will continue to be,
perfect in your imperfections.
You are human,
and you are as beautiful as the cosmos.
to my Skin,
Dear Kemauri,
Is it okay if I call you that?
I know you prefer Keke.
Why is that? Have you let someone ruin your name
for you?
Has your past made you afraid
of it?
Oh, Dear Paper,
Clean as God
Crisp sheet of blinding white
Why must you hurt me, so?
You wink back at me, mockingly
I'm the type of person who finishes all their homework on a Friday night so they can enjoy their Saturday. I no longer procrastinate. Some call me an overachiever and others call me a nerd. I'm a bit of both.
I am still while the world turns beneath me.
The weight of my sorrow does not slow its spin,
for soft words cannot calm a tumultuous sea.
I do not listen to the wind twisting the trees
Dear Past Self,
I know what you’re expecting me to say.
That it’s going to get easier and don’t give up.
Or maybe
That this is only the bottom of the mountain
And you have much further to climb.
Pass that class
Apply for college
Gain more weight
Still get acne
Question yourself
Question your morals
Have regrets
Forgive yourself
Improve yourself
Love yourself
Dear Future Self
I hope you learn to love yourself the way you love others
and I hope you never lose that power.
Dear You,
This is my least favorite part of my day.
I can never escape her eyes.
And my body can never escape her judgments.
"Bent, broken, barbed"
That's all she seems to say as her nails
I wish ,
I could be ,
With no one but me,
Enjoying my company,
Besides the rough sea.
I rest by the shore,
Below the palm shade,
Mesmerized by the blue marvel,
A beauty that ever would fade.
I'm like the sun
Beautiful with a bright personality
You can't look at me long
You'll see my past that contains pain
And you won't look at me the same
That's why I burn
So your eyes shy away quick
I am not who I seemI am not a good thingI am million broken piecesI am an empty evil thingI am a wall built around myselfI am protecting the things hiddenI have a million different masks
I learned from my mistakes
That my heart always aches
Because I loved men
Before I loved myself
So now everyday
I dont turn away
When I see myself in the mirror
I stand tall and without a tear
Pick and Choose.
This or That.
What to do.
Choices, decisions, options.
What can we do? Where can we go? Who shall we be?
“Because I love you, you should stay.
You should ignore whatever they’ve told you.
I love you, don’t listen to them.
I know I hurt you.
I.
Today I ran a 5K
This body
my body
ran 3 miles
despite years of me feeling inadequate because of it.
I had the privilege of attending a wedding the other day
After sharing a conversation with the couple
And being told that in the midst of all of the arguments
What perfect means to me
Is no perfection at all.
It means that you are clumsy,
You are loud,
You are quiet,
You are graceful.
It means that you are awkward,
You are simple,
sometimes the world is so much I don’t even know what to write about it.
but I still come one here
every so often to
tell the void about my paltry thoughts.
Almost just to get the illusion of talking to someone
You gave me a gift
More precious than material
As far as I am concerned
You gave me my heart
-------
Months turn into years
Sweet nothings turn to slander
My mind starts to wonder
Snow White cannot fight
Her soul’s become cold
Like White Snow.
She must go.
Sharp memories like icicles
Dangerously dangling
Something I like to remember when I need to cheer up
Is that I was not a part of the plan
I wasn't thought to be possible
"As I arose from such an immersed slumber.
(I was knocked the fuck out)
My eyes were grappled with an abundance of ravishing sunlight
(the sun was shining bright as hell in my window)
Who I am can only be described in words that have no syllables
and stories that never end.
I was there in the garden,
under the trees, made from Adam.
Born into life,
soul in my lungs,
she dips her makeup brush in gunpowder instead of eyeshadow
because her mother was a soldier and her father was a poet,
Today. Today I question myself
Who is in my life?
Who cares? and Who holds me back?
The answer awaits
You see, for me to ask that
I would need to understand myself
What do I want?
From the rolling commons of the countryside
To the vast expanse of the ocean,
To the comfortable domain of home
America the free
But are we really free?
Striving to contain a positive image
Looking into the mirror
Not many like what they see
Remain a healthy mindset is what I strive to do
God I am frustratedNothing is as it shouldWonderful thoughts of flightBroken calls of worry
My hands are weaving through your hair.
My hands say soft.
My hands are pleasure.
My hands are pain.
Hello,
My name is broken
A heap of letters left on a tattered floor
Shards of my identity, opaque from the settling dust
Hello,
I write because
if I didn’t
you’d find me dead with
a pen by my side.
I try to break free
from the bones that control me,
"I cry salty tears
for inside
I am an Ocean.
So dark and deep
not even monster
make a commotion.
But if you dare
to take a look
you'll surely drown in
all the emotion."
I’m fed up with feeling like I’m failing
I’m fed up with shooting for the moon and landing in the mud
I'm fed up with the pictures, the size I’m supposed to be
I hope
I hope
I hope
That someday
I will not be afraid
No
I hope
That I will be afraid but able
I’m from sunlight shining,
Birds singing in early afternoon.
The fortress beneath sheltering pine trees,
Narrow paths I’ve walked a thousand times.
A year is the blink of an eye
That sheds a tear,
That makes things clear.
A lot can change,
And stay the same.
As the eye opens
And sees the light
What once was a blur
"You're gifted; if only you'd apply yourself,"
he's told for eleven years.
"They don't know me like I know myself."
The boy loves but envies his peers.
"No awards to be shown on my shelf,"
Lacking one's good sense strictly defines that I should hold on tight mine
Seeing people pity on themselves
Knowing that they might need the Lord's help
Oblivious to what is known
Consequences postponed
You hurt me again
It’s written on your skin
Circling around your wrist
As well as your arms and hips
The scars on your skin
Would you stop if I paint my name over them?
I prefer permanent pen
the damage isn’t done,
we convince ourselves
as we sit in a row on the curb
sunken arms draped over our knees.
a hodgepodge congregation
of prayers in vain,
because who is there to ask
memes of bee movie and arthur's fist
conservative politicians and twitter flips
the land i am in deems a laughingstock
while immigrants stir the melting pot.
i dug the holes of the holy saints
Last year:
A girl learning how to draw
Holding the pencil,
Covering up the flaws.
This year:
A girl telling a story,
Rewriting the script,
Her mind a lab'ratory.
do you know
how exhausting it was
to rebuild what he had broke?
the walls that he so violently tore down?
the fire within me that he slowly extinguished?
the shelter that left me stripped raw and helpless?
When you start you've got questions
What is the end you have in sight?
Do you cling stubbornly to dreams or
Watch them when they leave like birds,
Free as the wind and vibrant and alive
I want to tell myself that it makes more sense than it does:
A change in motion falling from lips like shifting oxygen
inside of lungs that have finally stopped growing my voice
The sun rose and shone on my face through the window
I threw myself out of bed and fixed my hair
I walked up to my mirror and realized that I wasn't looking at my own reflection
Her hair was a mess
I never really understood who I was
Now more than even I still wonder who I am
Yet I think before I had an idea or I thought I did
Just in one short year I lost that part of me
The "Looking Glass Self" says that how others view us is how we view ourselves.
It's amazing to think that we see ourselves through the eyes of someone else.
A toast to the New Year, the three of us here,
The three muskateers, and together we are strong,
Our bond is forever, our cause greater when we belong
Brace, for winter is upon us, anticipate the loss,
2016
January, the new year started.
I still kept to myself.
February, the days became colder.
As I became to be.
March, I met my best friend.
It feels weird.
Standing along the walls.
Watching everyone have to go through it all.
All the suffering and self exploration.
I'm glad, a few years ago, i gave myself that explotation.
same old,
same new.
you look back
and boom.
everything has changed.
but where?
you woke up the same as yesterday.
but
your hair is longer,
your body is older,
My heart beats the same as ever
My eyes see just as poorly
My nose works just as well
Yet I am different
When I roll out of bed late
I possess a queen-size bed but not a queen.
Could it be an extensive wait for someone meant to be
or the universe telling me that I am not fit to be a king?
It's possible that I am merrily just a jester,
I believe that many say, time changes
It molds, grows, shapes, scrapes,
You
I, with tired limbs, heavy eyes, a crazy sleep schedule
A valuable year soars by,
Opportunities and experience it provides.
Yet a greedy year glides by,
Toxic relationships and people it hides.
Words flow like water, deep into the soil
Conveying meaning from nothing
yet planting our voices deep into the walls
hearing the screams, spouting we shall fall
inner demons do tell all..
Even the trees are more interesting than I,
For their leaves change color.
From glowing orange to bright red,
They please any audience that drives by.
An applause in the form of a smile is what is recieved
Write what you know, they say.
Write what you know. What do I know?
I don't know how to trust (you can thank my dad for that)
I don't know how to seperate dreams from reality
Years go by as they always do
Some go fast, others slow,
But never a year taken so long
As this year's past.
Changes occur as they always do.
Some welcome, some not.
Haircuts and new friends,
Today, I woke up.Yesterday, I ate toast.The Day Before That, I rode my bike.I don't know. The change between Today and Yesterday and the Day Before That are difficult to see.But if you asked me the difference between this year and the last?
Sometimes it’s like rain.
It collects in the sky, with dark clouds gathering,
Looming above you.
You notice it, acknowledge it
And feel it when it comes,
20 years on earth
I've made ton of sorry things
like I've been soaked in the world
of mistakes.
Not being an eye candy
amazingly beautiful
was a mistake
Packin bowls and all I smell is loud
My senses gotta be fucked
Since when can I see sound?
Dumbfound you have me
Bruh I'm Not so grounded can we
This is what Autism looks like:
A pretty girl with gap teeth and long brown hair
Yelling to herself in different voices
(Reciting memories, we think) --
A lively man who paces and moves his whole frame
It starts with a feeling, the pinprick before the stab. Imagine a box. Stored in it are the most pessimistically intense feelings.
I was a little brat.
I threw tantrums.
I hit, bit, and scratched.
I didn't care about others.
I only thought about myself.
I loved myself.
I am alone.
I isolate myself.
Like pink skies and red oceans, each day is so beautifully enigmatic
Mystery and curiosity caress my day in a world so sorrowfully systematic
A chance to touch and breathe ease me into sunrise and poetry flow
I don't want to stop you
Please enjoy your time here
Just know you are affecting me
We are taking from eachother, in the time we have spent together.
What do I do when life gets rough,
when stress makes me feel like I've had enough?
What I like to do is sit down and breathe,
especially when I've found a good book to read.
an open book of poetry lies half-read, half-abandoned because as a moth is drawn to a light, the amateur poet is drawn to thoughts of imminent failure
the knowledge of talent unfound, unpolished
I am a ghost of my own universe
Observing silently as the world flies past
Unable to speak
Unable to act
Even when my entire existence
Seethes and overflows with passion
It's not about loveIt's not about natureWhat invades our mindsWhat invades our lives.
It's not about being the bestIt's not about being an artistWhat impacts us as humanWhat impacs us as beings.
Hello, my name is Pink.
No, that does not mean that I adhere to your traditional views of what you think I am.
It does not make me gentle.
It does not make me sweet.
Hello, my name is Pink.
At parties,
I will do some freaky dances
with calories
cus I’m like nutella
dark, chocolate,
and nutty.
Yeah,
I’m not one to hide my love of food,
in front of you, I’ll demolish a
I am not a poet
I am no poet
I don’t craft images with my words
Images of hope and healing
I am not a poet.
The beauty of the world has been masked with a false sense of acceptanceYou are designed In his favor and you aren't even smart enough to accept itWe simply continue to reflect on the irrelevant and neglect what's most import
You picture me behind the curtain, scheming with Oz.
I wonder if when you see me, you greet the person you imagine me to be.
How awkward that I have little resemblance to the ghostly image
Which haunts me now.
I am a man,
An American man of African and Hispanic descent,
Our forefathers and foremothers frequencies suggest they are turning circles in their graves and pits.
They dreamt of freedom and we enslave ourselves,
someone once told me that I matteruntil I multiply myself times the speed of lightthen I am energywhen I merge with he who mattersit becomes synergyit becomes clear to methat words mean nothing
Dear Midlife Me,
It will have been long
a long, long time
since you have written this.
But if you exist
if you are there
please take but a moment
to listen to me.
Life Taken By the Gun
By: Miracle Strong
The rain began to pour
As I walked across the shore
His arms bleeding leading to his destination
Here lies I, an open soul.
Who just the other day were doing the same routine as we all did.
Wake up, hygiene, eat, learn, sleep. Repeat
I've never met someone who shared the same thoughts and goals before i met me.
I want to be crazy but I find that I am not
There is order in my bones and fire in my eyes and enough sense in my spirit to burn a million bridges
I lift up mine eyes to the hills and search them for signs of life
Brainwaves whir from corner to corner of my cranium,Causing me to think in a different key.
Oddly enough, I'm weird.
At least that's what they jeered to my beard
as they peered, while my honesty reared
with confidence clear, and hints of fear.
At least that's what they said from their box
furious as I am, I searched for hope within my ravaging soul
believing that inside me, a speck still believes in life
thinking that beneath all these pain, my logic survives,
A little giggle
Soft and light
In the darkening night it comes out
No one’s around
I don’t have to be me
I can be me
Like a ballet dance on blades,Your mind is a fickle thing. Relevé, going fully en pointeOn razorblades,Slice your sole to sorry shreds--So very fucking sorry.
People talk about how opinions don’t matter but I think they do. I am united with my fellow poets as we embark on a journey leading us into deeper thoughts. You wonder what being a poet means to me, and I say everything.
Blink,
and the delicate parachutes whistling
with white-spun dandelion seeds drift to
form the rich parchment of
my thoughts,
channeled
Is it petty of me to not immediately name my family?
Am I a bad person for not pointing out a friend?
Is it a sign of not being humble enough that I do not whisper the name of God?
Maybe I'm hateful? Maybe I'm frightful?
All I need is my sanity
With my sanity, I have my peace
And with my peace, I have my mind
And with my mind, I can survive
Because I,
I waver sometimes.
In the bleak and quiet horror of a concentration camp morning,
Viktor Frankl asked them why. Why not throw themselves against
The comforting hum of electric fences or onto swords like Brutus.
The very thing that'll drive me mad
I will undoubtedly wish I had
With the cerulean waves crashing on the cave
This will keep me from my grave
What keeps me from my sleep
My decisions
My thoughts
Built into bricks of a wall so high
No god could topple me down
My integrity
My principles
I struggle through that crowd
That marches through the day;
It’s rambunctious and loud—
A chaotic parade.
Lately I ve been distracted
Writer's block so powerful
Hands crippled aching with regret
Turning to my temptations
My soul, my creativity dies a little each time
But now Im bac..I hope
Do I love myself? Do I hold my own dear? Do I wake up and live a life of no fear?
Do I look in the mirror and see a queen? Do I look at my hands and feel machine?
Something lives deep inside me
Something that hungers
Something that burns
Something dark and hot
It smolders
A rumbling deep inside
When I grow cold and empty
That’s when I feed it
It's morning
It's just like any other day but yet somethings gone
What it is it?
Where is it?
Why can't it be found?!
It can't be gone
It's frustrating
Why can't it be found
Emerald amber mixes in between
the eyes that I stare into, and pray I am unseen.
Glass fogs and the words appear
to be smudged into my quaking fears.
Nose curved like a bell
Yeah, I’m skinny what’s it to you?
No, I’m not anorexic.
No, I’m not bulimic either.
No, I am not just skin and bones.
I have a high metabolism, and I have a hollow leg that runs in the family.
This is me
This is who I am
In and Out
This is where I stand
A dark shadow that disappears
Looking for Peter Pan
Dreaming long and hard
"I think I can"
Become the President? Perhaps not
I am from the baracles
from the bottom of speedboat.
I am from the waves
from the breaking water
th buoy floating
from the safe zone.
I am from the broken sidewalks
I feel like a god is toying with me
All my blood in my tears amount to
Nothing and any effort goes to waste
On anything and everything I want to
Be successful at! The hand knocks down
Who am I?
Questions ring inside my mind
But I find no solution
Who am I?
Questions ring inside my mind
But I am still seeking a solution
Who am I?
Who am I?
Questions ring inside my mind
But I find no solution
Who am I?
Questions ring inside my mind
But I am still seeking a solution
Who am I?
There is something to be said
about dragging dead weight
through a claustrophobic hall
way -every day- with
nothing but the bags on your back
To define one self means to belong,
To put what others think of you
Into your own words.
I am what others cannot see.
They say I am beautiful.
They do not see my rough edges.
Teachers say I am smart.
To seem
is to know
you are broken somewhere
with a seam stitched tight with
self-awareness, an attempt at positivity
but knowing still where the rip
once was
and seeming fine
is fine enough
I wield a fist that has shattered glass, leaving in its wake
Shards strewn across the crimson splatter
lining the sink where I weep
sinking,
sinking,
sinking down into
Am I. Who I am
Or is who I am, What I'm supposed to be?
Do I conform to others,or do others conform to me?
Do I try to fit in like a lock and a key?
I am perseverant.
They tell me I can't, I say I can and will.
No challenge or obstacle is too great.
Even through the toughest trials,
I will prevail and push through until I am succesful.
Am I the sum of my parts?
Am I the sum of my interests?
Am I the sum of what I have created?
As time moves on
I find myself turning to this idea
I am,
I am a thing,
I am a thing that you can see
But can you understand? Can you really know?
What makes me beat inside? What makes me feel alive?
There's only one thing I can tell you:
I am modern art.
People love to tell me what I am,
What I stand for,
And what I can never be.
Like they have a clue
Like they have the right to rape me with their Wikipedia-based art degrees.
my safe haven has always been the library,
nestled among shelves upon shelves of beautiful, beautiful books
old with new and new with old
a mixture of the best and the worst of society,
If I don't know where I'm from, you ask, how will I know where I'm going?
Fair enough.
Here's my best answer:
I am from a little boy crying because I turned his amoeba of green paint into a t-rex.
Who am I?
possibly the hardest question because there are infinitely many answers
answers that may contradict because I am not simple
then I realize I am not an answer
there shouldn't be a question, "Who am I?"
I am not I think I am...
I think I am small.
I think I am inadequate.
I think I am less than.
I am more than what U think I am...
U think I am a burden
So you want to know "who I am?"
Well who I am, is more.
It cannot be summed up in adjectives and traits.
Who I am deeper than that.
I am MORE.
Right here, right now
I wish my hands were magic,
instead my touch turns to dust,
and they can’t keep hold any more.
Beauty is never a careful color
Its an angry amber, a vibrating violet
Courage is never a planned step
Its a shaky bridge, a broken ankle
Truth is never a smile and a wink
Its a broken dream, a sober triumph
I am not a poem.
Typed letters can take you to other worlds
But not inside my head.
I am as infinite as the universe
As impossible to map as existence
My body could fit in a refrigerator box
I am the beat of my heart
fighting the wind of the fan at
two in the morning
the heartbeat is a reminder.
whenever I'm dead because of the thoughts
that often pop up
Before I was, I had to come
To the forefront of death, of life.
And without any doubt of the from;
I now exist amidst the strife.
Without knowledge known to me yet,
No pressures found or even cared
i'm nothing.
i'm nothing but
petrified wood
nothing more
than a hardened rock
sitting in a grove of
others just like me
pointless and worthless.
so i carve out arms
hips
A rapid fire brain.
Unceasing thoughts,
Seemingly distant,
Yet present.
So very present.
Immersed in the moment,
But all caught up in a jungle gym of reverie.
Too focused to be distracted.
He speaks so calmly
Quiet as a mouse he is
He reminds me of my childhood fears
So quiet, so distant, so beautiful
A creature of so much delight from afar
I sit there and wonder why
At first, I thought I was a mix of my sisters.
They were complete opposites:
One was cautious, one was reckless.
One did well in school, the other struggled.
One was popular, the other had few friends.
Please, your words are to much to swallow.
Your stare pierces my soul.
Don't bother to follow me.
I cant bear your bad vibes.
I feel the knots in my chest.
You've never seen me at my best.
Everyone has a monster... that they hide behind their skin,Sitting and watching... just waiting in its den.Eventually the moment comes... for it to present itself,
I’d like to think that I change often
Or, evolve often.
I become a brighter
Smarter
Stronger
Version of myself
every day that I am alive
I don't know, for how could I?
I am complicated, yet want to be simple
No one can tell me who I am
For even I can't decide
I wish things wouldn't change
For good ideas are left to hang.
Johnny came to visit when I was nine
He only had the chance to just that one time
He still smiled as often as he always did
But his smile seemed almost crooked
I asked him why that was and he said:
Johnny came to visit when I was nine
He only had the chance to just that one time
He still smiled as often as he always did
But his smile seemed almost crooked
I asked him why that was and he said:
Here but never seen
Hide behind the camera
I am a coward
Stuck in a small world
Yearning for new adventures
Life forgot my passion there
And handed me the key;
For what possesses better snare
Of curiosity?
The key, ornate with golden leaves
And “Carpe Diem” divine,
Life forgot my passion there
And handed me the key;
For what possesses better snare
Of curiosity?
The key, ornate with golden leaves
And “Carpe Diem” divine,
Why is life so complicated with people playing hearts for diamonds and digging gold with spades willing to club others for their gain?
You can be stoic or Mesozoic,Euphoric or prehistoric,A philosophic sage orA hot tropic age yetThe fossils of your past,In the striations of your heart,Unveil the truth at last—
Wily charms of erected façades placatethe dissimulated crowds of unreasonabilitywaiting to laud falsity to heights unwarrantedwithin this impossible dream-of-a-life covered by
Love blooms like pretty eyelashesunsuspecting fly landsvicious Venus snaps her preyrips him to shredssucks him dryheartlessa carnivorous plant!
.
Like some monument to comfortyou shirk dutyyoustroll the reckless streetson some shapely saunter throughthe pages of a mystery novelyouwindow shop for marvels
Such gallant knight went down in flightsuccumbing to the shadow lured to his death by whisper's breathwhile seeking El Dorado. Came the shade within the glade
In cold varietal fashionWith stone-faced disregardShe sashays the runway of hungry eyesWith a made up heartAnd painted faceExposed to all in frilly laceThe cover under where she'll hide
I saunter throughthe vibrant copseto absorbI becomeverdantI ama treeplantedby the rivers ofliving waters.
.
Gathered together from greatest to poorest thickets and meadows, a lush mighty forest. Peace and great solace amidst the strong trees broad leaf and fine needle they sway in the breeze.
The rustic life, pastoral scenes, the basis of idyllic dreams the simple ways of nature come, its harmony in total sum. These country settings, warm and real,
I felt the burly city too,Of brick and horns and sirens,Of rusty metal and broken glass,Of monolithic stone reachingFor the underside of space,And despite the raw strength of it all
He thought he shared the universe with all;Heard many voices in response remandAn inundation—words unlike his call,From the desert-bare cliff across the sand.Some morning from the parched and thirsty ground
So many thingsI'd never doare done and that is allthese many thingsI hate I've doneare done—I can't recall;But if I couldgo back in timeundo what I have wrought,would it still
Fossil fashions,The relics of yesterday,I dig through my drawers.TV, radio, papers, people,A thousand words a second,A downpour floods my garden.The sun shines on all,
I shake, and I shiver.
They're starting to see past the glitz and the glimmer.
It's getting harder to smile and laugh
When I want to scream and die. How can I deal with that?
Through the glass I look
Searching for some answer
Faces slanted into an opaque distortion
Everywhere I gaze
Am I a Man
Am I honest
Am I emotional
Am I young
Am I human
Am I alone
Am I free
Am I home
Am I wise
Am I ready
Am I loving
Am I suporting
Am I helpful
Behind the curtains of my eyes
Hides a glare
A stare
A lie
The carefully crafted façade
The fragile, cheap disguise
Behind a mask lies another
Feeble layer of an onion
"So what are you?" A question too familiar
Years ago my mind would halt, frozen
My heart would pound. "I do not know"
I did not want to know.
"Are you Asian?" Your ignorance now shows
Fire is my force
I am in beautiful
Anguish
Darling, my whole heart loves you
Garden flowers die
But not those who lie sacred
My bones were feeble
My breath had weathered
My voice can be heard as a bare, cracked whisper
And I listen at how fragile we are...
For which my lungs, they were thirsty for air
It starts in 1999, when at five years
old, still chubby-cheeked and new,
I learned that make-up was for girls
as night over night I watched my mother paint
reaching into the depths of love stained pages and pulling out the most familiar character is my way of reinforcing my sense of self
Without accessories I may look plain but do you know anymore than my name?
I may be simple, but it is not that easy.
I am very deep, and very needy.
I am a mother, but a wild child undercover.
Marigold sunset
An incredible red, rosy as your venomous lips.
Parting to greet whatever sickness you allow,
Inhale toxicity, exhale plasticity.
Behind the masks, the lights, the flash
I’m here, I feel, I fear
The truth told by the melody only in my head is a felony
Behind the flash and the pretentions of trends
Loving, caring, an open book
Trustng of others without a second look
It's crazy how I can see the best in others
But it took me so long to see the best in me
Who I was used to depend on how others felt
Behind the soft focus and midnight lamps, I stand an individual ripe of expression and newborn neon. A flourescent buzzkill in my own devices. Passion is never an option, only a cursed persistence of never gone yet sometimes frozen feeling.
The Experience of Self
By Andrea Spencer
Silver fingers
brushing soft pine’s needles
-whose frost scrapes
and burns this season-
into her human hands.
In my life I have experienced change with time.
Life, death, moving, changing.
It's all apart of it.
I look into the mirror and look at how I, myself, have changed.
you began to undress me
and as each button of my blouse becomes undone
a sliver of some imperfection slips past
my possessions that once possessed me settle in a pool around my ankles
Behind the beige powder, behind the jet black liner,
Behind the brave brown eyes, behind the fake smile,
There is a girl.
Aside from the straight auburn hair, aside from the sculpted brows,
I'm in a constant state of madness
with my disarrayed hair
I stopped tampering with
and my bubbly, bright voice
that can't seem to stay quiet.
I enjoy the simple things-
I am an amazing person
Sometimes others may not think so
They talk shit and hate
I know that others can relate.
Sometimes I don't feel so amazing
There are times when I just wish that
Is it possible to be, simply, black and white in this kaleidoscope world of colors?
Is it possible to be, simply, one low note while others are scales, trills, and melodies?
I am Unfinished.
My edges aren't sanded smooth
There are creases and circles worn into my eyes,
There are scars and callouses on my hands
There are stripes of uneven bronze across my skin
When I look in the mirrorI am disgusted
Turn Tilt Smile Move on
Not a piece feels rightArms too longMouth too smallHair too straight
I am me in my purest form
I am me and all I adorn
I am the rolls hidden under my shirt
and under my nails, I am the dirt
I snore while I sleep
I lisp with my retainer
In the shower I weep
15 likes.
20 Likes.
Not enough. Not enough.
Is it my nose?
My Hair?
Why?
Why don't they like me?
Why am I so wrapped
trapped
tangled
my confidence
What is it like to be me?
She asks
Envy lining her words.
She's talking about the test
That I aced
The quiz
I defeated
The teacher
Who loves me.
I laugh and smile and joke at her
Every time I walk around
The bullets puncture me
The bullets of your eyes
Your stare, the way you watch me
It stings into my soul
but you know what
I can get shot and survive
Because I have imperfect Spanish,
I am never Mexican enough to those who speak better than me
Because I have imperfect English,
I am always too Mexican for those who speak better than me
Everyone you meet -
the ones that you avoid-
these people are your reflection.
See yourself as they see you,
Would you be welcomed or Rejected.
I can't cry.
I sit amongst pillars of stone
My mind is empty
The pillars whisper things unknown
I'm left in my thoughts
They scare me
Because they're empty
The words hit deep,
as they penetrate into the complex ignorance lingering within
I cannot clear my mind
See transluecence equivalences admittance,
To Say im different than you would be a misconception
Im the same as you niggas....
Plus a few exceptions
I dont give a fuck about your life or ideologies
Dont write for you!
nor anybody
What am I
When I am not a thumbnail
An emoji
A jumble of pixelated parts?
What are my words
When they escape from my mouth
Unedited
Unscripted
Unable
To be deleted?
No knows why the sequoia stands so tall,
From below it’s just another tree,
Nothing special, nothing outstanding.
It is adorn not with fragrant flowers,
Nor does it bear luscious fruit,
Titled smile, crooked eyes.
See me in my best disguise.
If this is not truely me,
May I ask, who could I be?
Kept my love inside these jars,
My heart composed of many scars.
My hair is thinning
My skin is almost pale
My life is nothing like a fairytale
I am of the average height
Contacts help me see what's in sight
I look for depth in everyone
Mirrored
That is without glass
A place inwhich glamour lies
Our pictures hidden
By the pictures of ourselves
Hidding the natures of ourselves
You look around a see a girl. You don't know who she is or where she came from.
Seems odd.
But it's just me. You've seen me I'm sure. I live like this.
Really?
I'm falling further from myself,
Down into the depths that threatens,
To swallow me whole.
The water rushes about my face,
It fills in the space left by my body.
This is where I die.
Today, I look up to the Sky;
I see all the birds Sky high
Flying, making the Skky alive.
Today, I look down to the Ground;
I realized that I'm Ground Bound
Rooted, held down.
I was wondering...
1. Do I really only have two followers who are interested in talking to me?
2. Do I not post enough?
3. Do I seem like a nuisance?
4. Am I one?
I see stars. See in them what I am capable of
I see a heart. Broken in between happiness like hope
I see void. In this I have come to rest
I don’t see myself.
I see a mirror. In this fractal misrepresentation,
If there is nothing real,
Nothing is what I give.
If there is the ghost of real,
I take the seeds, that with my hands
Bloom into the ghost of something
And when my little ghost decides
I am a body of water
Stretching far and wide
Beyond and away
From my shores, to some unknown
Place
And my body is the water
It rolls and ripples
And my mind is the water
Calm and glassy
She tilts her head back, rolling curls of dusky brown hair fall over her shoulders.
Copper eyes with piercing abilities stare into my soul... strangely familiar.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
In. Out. In. Out.
Proof I am human runs through my veins.
Proof that I am alive and functioning shows everyday.
Where am I going?
What am I doing?
That's how I lived my life.
Question after question,
Never clear what I wanted.
Until reality hit me.
Waisting potential.
Missing my chance to live my dream.
When I was first born, I was
Grown.
With all my anorexia and my blantant speech
And God was mad at
The girl of vibrations of the highest note of the song
Resonating a vacuous buzz
On this train,
I descend.
A cruel descent from heaven to hell.
The misty, rhythmic waterfalls
They asked me to take away the filters
To show what remains underneath.
Why is a filter so undesirable?
Why do we idolize the untouched?
The "pure"?
For in my experience,
as a fish owner,
Who am I? That's a loaded question.
We are all dense individuals, filled like an overflowing dam with ideas, experiences and contexts.
A loving sister, and loyal friend,
Tender hearted, caring deeply ‘til the end.
Stubborn, opinionated, and steadfast,
A strong willed girl, never dwelling in the past.
Born to nurture, love, and be loved,
Do you really want to hear about me?
Then, boy, do I have a story for you.
I am exactly what one would expect
No irony really intended
I put my shoes on one at a time
The self is but the chalice for wisdom. As I am but the chalice for the sea. My truest self? What form is true. Eyes may see what shadows give away but looking into the light, all are blind. Cloaks to bind and keep hearts to ground.
I only have one shot at this,
So I want to do it right.
How does one take a selfie,
Depicting an authentic sight?
Never Ever am I wrong
All my work is done on time
Very obediant, never causing trouble
Always on time
Ok, maybe sometimes I am perfect
Sometimes get corrected by my sister
Quiet, observing every movement or listening to people talk
Nervous, when presenting or when I am not prepared
My sound?
Is a silent night, I have no music
no beats, or rhythem.
My sound?
Crickets on a summer day.
When I was born they sang.
My sound?
Is a soft noise
Do you ever just
have one of those days where
you wake up and
nothing seems right?
One of those days where
you look down the hall and
someone has turned off the lights?
to put the parallel lines decorating my wrists
like outdated wallpaper to use, i would peel
the scar tissue like the rind of a blood orange,
link the massacred pieces of myself into a chain,
Filters and fakenes is a popular theme,
Within the news, and the media, and favorite magazines.
A girl with boring brown hair,
With simple green eyes,
And pale skin and blemishes,
Who am I?
I am myself.
While filters do not lie,
They definitely enhance
The minor imperfections that only I can see.
Without filters,
My zit is apparent,
One white kid in the whole neighborhood
All my friends spoke Spanish but still I knew the truth
That every one of us wants the same exact thing
To find a safe haven and to have a family
Mia whispers that I could be better.
Ana shouts at me to pull it together.
Mia says she wants what is best.
Mirror Talk
For a while
I’ve been saying what I don’t truly know
I thought I made myself
A long time ago
Looking in a reflection
Hoping my thoughts won’t worsen
Looking into the mirror,
Wiping away the tears.
A new day is ahead
And a new face appears.
No one can see past
The cover that is shown,
But nobody really understands
What is called the unknown.
Truth
Truth: You make me laugh
Truth: You make me cry
Truth: You are smart
Truth: You are loveable
Truth: You are honest
Truth: You are doing better
Truth: You are ugly
I am so very quiet
You might not know I am there
But I am your listening ear
I'm there to hear your problems
I hear to show I care
Just call my name
Tell me your shame
And once you're done
our teeth chatter more than our tongues
but silence isn’t the enemy
it cradles me like a newborn who’s not afraid to scream for what she wants
for what she needs
I've found it hard to wake up many morningsBecause I wondered what good it'd be;To struggle with the thought of never beingAs perfect as the people that I see.
All of these anxieties living inside of me,
Overwhelming me with who society tells me I've got to be,
But there's a big difference between who I've got to be and who I want to be.
Who do I want to be?
I am only me, that is all that I can be
No more, no less, don’t second guess
I love, I laugh, I live and cry,
I’ve wished at times, that I could die
Some days I’m funny, others I’m not,
I’m driving to the store. I look left at a stoplight;
A girl is applying on mascara on her already thick lashes
In the limited time frame that we have and I think of
The angel of death is so very wise,
because the angel of death
has taken so many lives.
So many husbands,
so many wives.
To death do us part
but the love stays alive.
Indulgence is not self-expression,
Nor can we all avoid repression,
That is said and done,
The world is overrun.
Finished without.
Mirrors as walls hold back,
All tears that make us crack,
my room is crowded with feelings,
and all i feel is alone.
my family and friends, they just pretend
that this house was ever a home
my mother, she really does love me.
she's the one who tends to my wounds.
The moment of silence lasted till noon
We all agreed that he was taken too soon
Some call it a tragedy
But our lives are not Shakespeare
And Death is no Bard
So what sense can you give me?
The mirror cracks
with broken glass
unable to hold
the lies that are told
everything plastic
thought as attractive
the soulless has worth
we're told to convert
what is to live
Theres an artist behind this Idiot
Theres an Ocean beneath this pool and it's full of sharks
I present a calm surface because no one can fathom the depth
and once they stick a toe in and realize there is no bottom
Smile, cry, hide
Me, myself and I
2/4 cup of plastered smiles, oh I pull them off how
1/2 cup of tears without the pain, I don't want to shed a tear again
In the words of the actor that lives my life
"The true me, that isn't me, is walking strife"
My voice is miniscule
In a world of puffed chests and rabid children.
His voice is cool
My tongue is rolling, twiriling and clicking.
My lips are pressing against tongue and cheek.
My throat erupts in a sound uncertain.
Trying to conjure words of language whose dialect has been long lost.
Behind these eyes shows who I really am
What you have seen , is just a mask
I look so brave with fire in my eyes
But in my heart there is a surprise
I seem strong and always happy
Within a minute you are quick to claim your fame, in another moment you completely disowned it.
A rebel driven by a devil. Words of wisdom questioned, a world full of deception.
I don't stare at myself in awe of my own beauty,
I stare in awe that I am called beautiful.
I look so deeply at myself, with every intention to find this beauty.
To answer the question I ever so constantly ask myself,
I am scared and alone
I wonder what death feels like
I hear snickers and whispering at all times
I see hatrd in the mirror
I want to be numb
I am scared and alone
I pretend that I am happy
You will eventually grow
Even if it is really slow
With this experience you will have learned
All the fears will be overturned
Mind over matter,
to the mind of matter
to those minds that are complexed,
perplexed.
layer upon layers.
Inception.
My deception
My perception,
my out look on life.
The side of one that is seen,Stays to hide the two.Three watches over me in hopesthat i wont serve four to life.All i've seen in this prison sentence is struggle and loss
Peace. Love. Happiness.
Remsembles all my wants.
My 'already haves' sofficated,
buried six feet under my soul.
I am not three letters
my whole existance
is not bound by the skin that is covering my soul
by the body that is less than
simply because I am larger than you
they try to place scars
Way Back when
I was never thin
But the desire to be in-
The in crowd Grew out of control
I was never myself
I was never Pres
in the public eye
I was always who they pictured me to be
My ears captured the bells from afar.
Though my eyes rest,I know exactly where we are.
I can feel the throbbing pain,
before I even stand.
Why must I wear these?
Who exactly am I trying to be,
you think there's an ocean of things
you've yet to learn about me
but there's really not that much
it's more like a pool in that
it isn't so infinite or mysterious
but still waters run deep
They cannot see what they do;The seperation, the argument and closed-minded confrontation, damaged by selfishness of view and heart.I break chisel against the walls in their minds.
A hushed, resigned, tailor
Observed, a noiseless, patient spider spin,
Past Apollo's race,
With needlework of kin,
Our pace pulls in the dawn.
I met her in a dream
Crazy as it seems
She laughed like I did
And I found that funny
The clouds have veins,
at the end of the day, when the sun kisses the edges,
and the purple spreads along the blue, dancing on the white
I watched all my friends fall, in and out of old love Shame took the hardest, and hope hung from a limb Sadness drowned in her own tears, and anger forgot how to swim
A quiet stone stillness
Flushed by petal skin
Glowing but whispering
Eyes painted with grim
Black lines suggest somber
Whimsy chilled by
Apathetic limbs worn
By an apricot smile
Does anyone remember when they were little,
And they loved to play pretend?
Yeah...me neither.
But it seems that,
As we grow older,
Learn the twists and cavities
Boroughed into our bodies
Proverbs 24:10 - "If you fail under pressure, your stregnth is too small"
I want to do ballet.
NO. You’re not flexible enough.
I want to do beauty pageants.
NO. You’re not near attractive.
Ok.
I’ve made six A’s and one B this quarter.
Honesty's the rarest rebel root
A precious pearl in dark long harboring
Whose maker groans and lifts to bring to fruit
From murky waters cull hours laboring.
A face, they see, a smile so wide
A heart, they hear, beats strong inside.
But they do not know, they cannot see,
The troubles and darkness inside of me.
A girl, my age, lives so far away,
You were never the one who got tests
hung up on the fridge
and you never handled a ball well enough
to earn a trophy
or attention.
You were never your sister, who had
In life we are given a window
A perfectly clear window.
Others see into our widow
And us into theirs.
As we grow we see that
some windows are scratched,
marked, and broken.
You don’t know anybody like me,
I promise you that.
I’m a homeschooler, an expat,
A feminist, a runner, a creator.
I’m bilingual,
but I can curse you out in more languages than two.
Look at me and tell me what you see.
A young black educated male is what I hope you perceive me to be.
I have God beside me, my parents behind me and my family around me and I’m going to strive to be all that I can be.
He sees balls of flame and dust.
She sees old souls that guide her path.
I see worlds beyond all of us.
They see stars, numbers, and math.
He endures the dull,
While she beholds the beauty.
A small hummingbird
Has been cruelly captured,
Caught in my ribcage.
It flutters vainly,
Ensnared by my hollow bones
Unable to fly.
Who knows what lies across the border?
That border which stands so tall,
It keeps us locked inside ourselves.
All of us. Both big and small.
We cannot truly find ourselves until we cross the border.
I want someone to listen to me. Listen to my story and tell me when I’m done “That’s some deep shit you waded through.” And then say nothing.
We shackle our Feet,
With Vanity and Mirrors.
That bring us to our knee's,
While we fear and shake with tremors.
We build our castle on the media and magazines we read everyday
Beautiful is she who speaks.
Not with words scribbled out,
Or with the dance in her feet.
It's the beauty she finds in defeat.
We live to die,
We die to live,
Living for life yet waiting to die,
Killing to live,
Living for the kill.
Claiming above is salvation,
Below our damnation.
Look at me.
No, really.
Look at ME.
I'm an more than mere paper,
test scores, or hobbies.
I am more than dollar signs,
numbers, and GPAs.
Brown eyes,
like the boxes for my books.
I am not sorry that I'm not a 36-24-36
But I do have a body size that leaves me with confidence
I love my rich dark brown skin
And my dark brown eyes that shines from within
Conditioned to be the best that I can be
Following the dream that is for me
Did I plan it with my own intentions?
Or did I pull ideas through my connections?
Where can I be the best that I can be?
Follow me
I will show where I hide
All my favorite places
Even those inside myself
That nobody knows
But you're something else
I will let you see my soul
Just follow me where I hide
Third eye intellect. Take time to self-reflect.
Enticed by elevated wisdom.
Non conformist conformed to intricate cognition.
Mindfully, my mind is fully conscious .
Keen insight in sight.
I am not this ugly skin,I am the soul that lives within.It is my job to see it through,it is the least that I can do.A wonderful God made me;He loves me deeply.No one could ever love me more,
Depression is a widow's veil.
A black, looming object..light and wispy, blowing with every change of the wind.
It's flowery design serves to hide the pain and agony that lies beneath.
Sylvan scenes of virgin timber
an enchanted forest she longs to discover
where mighty oaks give inspiration
and leaves aid in rejuvination
she need a place to breath in the summer.
She's warm,
bringing brightness
at the end of each storm.
Embracing morning with a kiss.
Reborn.
She weeps.
Tears like the dew
roll and wash down her cheeks.
Spinning in circles,
singing and crying,
it dips into cool, dark depths,
then skims the surface lightly,
dancing but afraid, for weeks.
Tired and tattered,
then bold and hardy,
The black girl.
Built strong, legs long unlike her hair.
Hair thick like her hips. Full lips.
Left on this earth for a purpose but constantly forced by society to find it alone.
When I look at myself in the mirror
and think that I could destroy the world
and graffiti the sky
all in a single day
I leave my makeup drawer untouched
and wear bright red converse
My body is trapped
My mind is free
The spirits that swirl from my body
must flee
and feel around me
the air that they plague
a mystical sense
so close and so vague
My mind is a portal to worlds of possibilities of success. There I sit in my imaginary kingdom of ease and finesse While I caress my thoughts of future glory and a new kind of persona- A man that will generate much fame and renown.
What is society
To you and me?
No,
What is society?
You and me.
Socius, societas, society.
Comrade, friend, ally.
How far we have come.
Eyes. There were six of them, green, blue, brown, and lavender. Now, why were they hovering? The lights were too bright to cast shadows, so why was there a lack of bodies to these eyes?
Sometimes you might feel empty inside,
unable to say how you feel because too much pride.
You might feel like you are on your own,
like you are all alone.
But have no fear,
hair tied up
like her toung in her throat
flowers skattered
like her toughts
high shorts zipped up
like her mouth every day
socks pulled high
likepuffs of smoke leaving her mouth
And tonight will be the night remembered as the time I let me get the best of me, I let my memory replay every little word you should have said. I let my passed creep back into me, the shadow of depression consumed me.
I sit and stare,
My mind a blur,
With little sparks around.
They dance and sing,
and start whistling,
Hence creation starts to flow.
My head attuned,
My heart balloons,
I AM ME
I am intellect combined with stupidity,
Kindness and compassion fractured by pain and misery,
Wrapped in anger and jealousy…
If I could change something
I'd change the way you look at the world.
I'd turn the scars on your arms into butterlies and kiss marks.
i'd make you smile every night before you wen to bed.
Change in one's self only happens within that one breathe, to change replenishes the unclean from being the broken to the mistaken.
my scars tell me
you're too much
you'll never be enough
you're not pretty enough
you're never going to be good enough
and for awhile I let my scars define me
I look in the mirror
And see the reflection of my papa’s heritage
My Scandinavian father’s father’s father
Towers over me smiling
His eyes, swimming in brilliant colors,
Show me his-story
the faggot in the reflection of my space helmet visor is my only friend.
with shaggy shorn hair and big eyes and a hollow cheek bone that holds in my silent tongue.
i have etched lessons in my skin, leaving silver lines
self inflicted pain
I'm pouring salt in my own wounds.
Stuck in the past;
time doesn't heal after all.
Thoughts in your mind
are constantly telling you
You're not good enought to weak,
You start from who you are;
Sweet, innocent, and caring. people ask and you say you're ok but no one knows how you're truly faring.
Born to be individuals
Living for everybody else
What is self?
Love is hard to find
When you look for it in different places
And hide your confidence in the basement
Thin
Thick
Fat
Small
Large
As I read these words normality comes to mind
Our society has brainwashed our minds to think that skinny and thin are the new perfect
Imagine what it would feel like:
Over, done, sinking, falling.
Imagine what it would sound like:
I can feel my heart beat
To the sound of the ground beneath my feet
I see what could be mine,
A prize above all others.
I push myself to do my best
I must go on,
Or else my dream
Have you ever wanted to sit with a razor blade,
And write a bloody symphony on your arm?
Have you ever felt your trembling heart be swayed,
And knew it was a sign of the looming swarm?
Gripping the razor
She admires its silver tone
Exposing her wrist
She examines her canvas
She glides the razor
Ever so gently
Feeling the painful hole in her chest go away
She always looked for a silver lining
But never thought it would be a silver razor
One side dull
The other thin, sharp
Admiring it reflecting the single light in her room
Gripping it in one hand
From a distance much to great,
He silently seals his fate.
With a rush of the tide,
He loses the feelings he tried to hide.
His head spins,
please beware
the end is near
when it gets here
i expect you to care
if you do
then head my advice
if you dont
youve been warned
for when we reach
the end the rope
I am a stair case out of a burning building
My heart, the cherry bomb that
Couldn’t consume the flames
My body is wildfire started fromOne match
I am a rickety fire escape
Black and Blue
Do you ever get a clue?
Black and red
do you know how much i bled?
black and green
You were always too keen
Black and yellow
Afterwords, you were always so mellow.
I have known this space for awhile now
But like some old jeans i grow tired of it
The thing that i thought protected me
Stops me from reaching my potential
The space that i enjoyed
Words are unspoken,
Things are not said,
But everything she feels is stuck in her head.
The sighs of a hurting, broken heart
Her feelings inside tear her apart.
Words that whisper,
I Fight,
I Fight For The Light.
I Fight For Those Sitting Their Room,
Crying At Night, Holding That Knife,
And Wishing They Died.
I Fight For The Ones Who Lost Hope,
Broken bottles
lining the window seels
where pictures should be
where crosses should be
liquor soaking in the walls
yet not absorbing the blows
virbration from the seel decore
We want to be who we are
Yet we still care about our shoes, our clothes, our car
And what other people thought
About what we think and what we bought
But these things are not what make us people
Three am and I'm in that park.
The trees rustle in the breeze
I'm here to meet a man
Not a sleeze.
Little do I know he's a human shark.
That's the hardest part.
He meets me halfway
I am a woman,
There is nothing to be ashamed of.
I bleed once a month, sometimes twice
I have breast, hips, thighs and booty.
I am a woman,
There is nothing to fear.
I am the accused lesser sex
We are scared of being judged.
We are scared of being wrong.
We are scared of sounding dumb.
We are scared of change.
We are scared of the future.
We are scared of relationships.
They think that I’m redThe kind of crimson that comes from loud mouths and smart remarksThe scarlet of sarcasm that stems from quick witFrom quips that taste like fire and sound like flame
Look at you
So young
So lost
A compass without direction
You do not yet know the cost
You smooth your hair
You stand real tall
Already knowing that you are small
look at yourself
look at your thighs
do you really believe
people would care if you died
your eyes are to small
and your stomach too round
feel the adreniline pumping?
Loneliness is such a bitter-sweet word
Who else to you know better than yourself?
The more you're alone, the more you know
About what makes you tick.
Yet, what if there's things best unknown?
Full of stress, full of fear.Working so hard, full of determination.A need to express, to make it clear.Eternally scarred, by the implication.Of failed success, so severe.
Staring at walls, out of mind
Dark despair calls, like no other kind
Shadows swirling, thoughts racing
Emotions twirling, no point in chasing
My heart was broken
Neraly Choking
On my own tears
I tried to leave
But you held the key
And after all these years...
I fell hard in love
I had a bestfriendHer name was MiaShe gave me tips to ease the painHeld back my hair as I threw up my sinsTaught me how to gag quietlyTold me to never eat hot things
I don't think they realize
how staring at these walls
through blooshot eyes,
can slowly kill you.
You take so much in society
that it slowly eats away at your soul.
You begin to feel uncomfortabl
We started out on cloud ninewe never imagined being apartwe were forever, we were together.We had it all planned out, right down to the day we said I Do.But then the hate startedthe stress
I may not be dumb,
But that does not mean I’m smart.
I’m old enough now
To take care of my own heart.
So that’s what I had thought,
Then I chose the wrong guy.
The same thoughts are on repeat every single day.
Should I end it now?
Should I wait for nature to take its course?
It'll be easier?
I'll be committing a sin.
Life isn't supposed to easy.
Pain is temporary but welcome it's relief where hurt once stood its a cold blade and a restless night a breeze that blows just a shy to cold pain is me mum doing nothing as I'm used pain is me dad turning me into his whore pain is me friends leav
Dear Love,
I gave it all to you.
And you dog gone took it and ran with it.
Such a fool, to have ever think we would be.
It has no face.
It doesn't need one.
I know it is not friendly.
I feel it tighten around me.
It tugs on me, it binds me.
I am suffocated by its poison.
I am being consumed by its hate.
I live in the same place I was born.
A small circle of protection,
preserved on every side by a cliff or mountain.
It’s a mystifying place,
The walls just keep crumbling...
Into the sea in which I keep fumbling
As I looked upon the water something I wasn't able to see
A reflection of my world and the reflection of me
You’re feeling insecure
Don’t know what for
You have everything
That others dream for
You are beautiful, strong, and pure
You can keep
your patriarchy endorsed
ignorance perpetuated
carelessly delivered
comments about my body
to yourself
I don't need your approval
to love my cheeks
my face
my legs
Fond memories, led astray
No glimpse of hope, such disarray
Scornful judgment brings out a beast, so tame
Blinded by its fear, naught bravery remain
Tearing at the wounds that reject
War.War within myself,War surrounds me.Inside I'm freedom,but self-made bonds are magnetizing me.
In the valley of the Shadow of Death,
There’s no place to hide, no place to rest.
The demons there, haunting your every step.
Choking you ‘till you have no breath.
The light at the end of the tunnel
When your pain is tangible
You can reach out and touch it.
It’s everywhere, consuming you.
You don’t even realize how lon_____g
it’s been eating away at your insides, until
they finally cave in and c
Nights of terror seem to pass
And days of sorrow fade.
In every moment that I laugh
I slowly crawl out of the shade.
Bits and pieces start to form
But some parts are still gone.
I seem to hate myself the most when I am alone, I think I have come so far... yet it's my metaphoric brains I wish to blow. There is so much I want to accomplish, but so much more I need to let go.
Hey you…
Yeah, you.
The girl with all the scars and stories to tell.
The boy who sits alone in the corner,
The child with a black eye from “falling down the stairs”,
I’m here for you,
Now and forever.
Her eyes,Melting away,Into sadness,Into decay,People who,Describe her look,May say she's undecided,But not a crook,When she rises early in the morning,She makes no sound,
I am different,
Differnt from you, and you, and the girl in the back,
Not different in general like everyone else is from others,
But uniqely.
I have a gift,
A gift that I'm not even sure about,
I will be whoever the fuck I want.
Let me repeat that.
I, Faith Rider, will be, whoever, whatever, the fuck I want.
Everyone is putting themselves in boxes,
"I'm straight!."
"I'm Gay!"
"I'm Bi!"
You’re afraid of what could happen
So you constantly keep up a wall
You are in a constant battle
But aren’t we all?
Gravity is irresistible.
I want to stay away,
But this concept is not unmistakable.
It must sustain on the bay.
I feel defenseless
In my naked soul.
As I am relentless
What if the truth,
was really a lie?
What would you say,
if I told you that's what I live by?
The lies are only there,
there to hide the pain,
the sorrow, the sad,
the everything.
I tried to write in a smile,
but it ended up a frown,
I tried to write it upside right,
But it ended up upside down.
I tried to write it in like summer,
but it ended up so cold.
I counted to ten,
I'm done! Where are you?
I can't find you...
Will you come out soon?
I miss seeing you,
Hearing your voice.
I miss being with you,
Hiding wasn't your choice.
We line up like marching ants
We listen to the Queen Bee.
Tell me what to do
Tell me what to be
I sweat
I smell
I stress
The #2 pencil shakes in my hand
The one and only... One of kind... Unique and undefined... No explanation to her life. An uncalled gift she received that brought her grief. Learning how to process the challenges of her life.
Popularity is our aim.
Potential fame is our game.
Being the best, forgetting the rest.
Who needs the loyal friends.
We flock like birds.
Orignality blown away in the wind.
Locked inside my skin
When no one understands
All that hate and sorrow
Fill my dying bones again
……………………………………………..
There is an underlying silence over everything
that holds everything, is everything
as we communicate this substance of silence embodies our conversations
meanwhile I search for inner peace
The meaning of life,
Who knows what it is,
Is is finding a wife,
Or the pursuit of riches.
Is life finding the meaning of true love,
Or finding a love for adventure,
The many kisses you share,
You were born into this world as nothing but you,
The potential was endless, if only you knew.
Question has been there, a childhood friend,
Selfishness, pride
Her ego, her snide
Bright blue eyes,
Shiny hair
Something more lies under there.
Happy and giddy,
Her grin wide with glee
She’s got the sharpness in tounge
I'm a puppet, controlled
by what I feel is
Wrong. That won't work,
my mind says. That is not a
career.
What is a career?
To assume
I won't be happy under the
Stage Lights
When my shoulders sag from the weights of the world,
Remind me who I am.
When the darkness hides Your lovely face,
Remind me who I am.
You lit up my life since the start
You are the fire inside of me
You are the inspiration deep inside of my heart
You taught me to always believe
Yet believing was so hard for me to achieve
I told him...
"Pretty girls don't have scars,"
And I cried.
With a finger under my chin,
He made me look into his eyes.
He told me that's what makes me beautiful
And kissed every tear
You taught us A-B-C, 1-2-3,
Reach high scores on SATs,
But when do I learn to be me?
There's pain in my vains still this day, cant explain how you put me to shame.
Saw me as a broken love, didn't give me a chance to undercover the talent that was given
Yep, that’s the thing When we finish elementary school, middle school, high school We have to just get ourselves into college We take one thing with us to college It’s not our friends we meet nor the mountains of debt, it’s the Education we attain
my mother taught me to grow up strongmy gradmother taught me to grow up propermy father taught me to grow up sarcasticyou taught me to grow up strongto grow up with love
Why can't I be smart like those that I see?Before I told myself--you have your own strengths you must not flee.
Run, run, run
as fast as we can
We can't stop the rhythm
echoing in our hearts and hands
our feet and soul they must fly
We cannot deny
the sparks that live than die
Jump, jump, jump
The aesthetic beauty of the mind to behold.
Not one can abate my hunger, my disease,
I've come upon these thoughts to ponder,
The substantial blank you bring appease.
To whom to which the eyes behold,
If you take a look at her,
You’d think she never struggled
Or cried.
But if you asked her questions
Such as, “If you could go back in time,
Would you change anything?”
I sit here with my patch of sky
It's clear and blue and wild and free
It asks me if my heart is true
And what with my eyes do I see
I sit here with my patch of sky
Myself;
As expansive as the ocean,
Yet also a wanderer within its great depths.
With no thought at all I flow with its motion,
But resistance is found when I consider my breadth.
Deeper than the submarines,
Beauty is unreachable
Love is just a game
Lies become believable
Others thrive off of our pain
If my body is a temple,
you are my act of worship.
I yearn for your touch,
yet they quote "the Truth."
I indulge in your warmth,
and they reference "the Word."
I trace the lines of your lips,
Seeing everyone reach for the same goals gets tiring
Sprinting towards your success
wanting nothing but self-statsticfaction
being proud of yourself means more
knowing who and what you will be
What is in a poem?I've oft' asked myself,Over a thousand I've written,I brood on this thought,
Is it perhaps a diagram,A portal in which to delve,So many questions unspoken,The cure to mental drought,
You are important, because you are one of a kind,
There is no replica or clone, just you.
Without you, people, nations, worlds, would be lost.
From that day you were born to the day you die,
I stole a peek inside today,
and what peered back left me in dismay.
I myself, I must betray,
today I shot myself, and walked away.
her insecurities are little girls wrapped in ribbons and frilly dresses and fighting for attention and her confidence kisses each one goodnight every night and never forgets.
I can see, but I am blind.
I can hear, though I am deaf.
I can speak, yet I am mute.
I find myself wandering, like a spirit,
Walking the same path over.
I cannot tell if a dream has taken me
There's no point in being someone that you aren't. The act will be obvious and off-putting. Besides, what are you gonna do if he wants the fake you?
A mind has vacated its body
Escaping voids lingering deep within a battered soul
With ignorance to the disconnect it harvests
A storm is brewing yonder
And one will become wary listening to the thunder
No Makeup do you need
You’re Beautiful without
That make up.
That dot upon your face is what makes
You.
No makeup you need
Your beautiful without
The powder.
To me you’re a desire.
Let me screeeeeeeeeeam
Let me shout to the world
Show them what I am capable of
I’m invisible
Minute
A mute
So hear me yell
Hear me shout
(I write for) the angelwith molten noir feathers(his grace) that was taken(and) his hunter's (love) letters
(I) write for the hunterwhose one greatest (sin)was wanting approvalof his brother, his kin
I cannot make flowers growin the parts of myself I don't take enough care oflike my mindand my heart.
I cannot repair those who are brokenand I cannot healthose who hurt.
This wonderful gift flows through my veins like the blood that's inside me. It's not everday that a true poet is born. I write poetry because it's a way for me to escape, it's a way I can tell me about me.
"Finding"
It's for the release.
It's for the rhyme.
It's for the rhythm.
And falling away from time.
I write for the freedom.
I write to bind.
So many faults I can point out to be true
But will that proclaim the true person in you?
People are windows that you can see through,
People are mirrors that show the untrue.
Everything that I had to be used to
One Ignored
Lilies do not verbally express their want
For your admiration
But dear, look at her colors, do they not
So many people loved you now you're gone,
You didnt say goodbye before you left home.
You filled our hearts with so much joy,
You didn't deserve this you were a wonderful boy.
A brother, son, grandson, & friend,
You reel me in,
I cringe from you.
You toss me aside,
I hold you down.
You throw me out,
I run away.
You long for me,
I stay in the sidelines.
You lure me back,
I come back,
I love my big nose and big lips: nubian features; my blemishes and acne marks.
I love my nappy roots; the 4-5 hours it takes to tame my mane.
His love was coveted.
I wasn't.
His love was exactly the song I wanted to sing; the beat I wanted to dance to.
He was everything.
I was nothing.
Write.Written as the philosopher devised ways to thinkbut the thought was only told through speech.Yet speech was only allowed for those that began to speak
For all the things I've left unspoken
I know they would be better off left unsaid.
I'm left in a dream again.
Please allow me to show you my life.
I want to show you my pain
Who blesses this child that cries alone, when the place that’s safe is farthest from home.
To whom does she thank for the large dreams broken and who will wipe her face when tear stained shirt is soaking.
Uneventfully I awoke.
Unsurprisingly the sun beating hot on the single paned windows –
Caused dew drops of moisture to form
Dragging myself out of bed,
Discarding one used shirt for another,
I am from lipstick, lipgloss, and lipstain,
From Revlon and Covergirl, and from many other lip products.
I am from the bubblegum pink walls of my bedroom,
The heater that lined two walls of my room
I
Invent the non-existent
Realize the reality of the unreal
Imagine the unimaginable
Read an unwritten story
I create
Accept the possibility of the impossible
Expect the unexpected
Naturally I wear my hair jet blac with no perm,Naturally I speak my mind if I see it fit,Naturally I am artistic,Naturally in nature I am me.
I cannot stand it any longer
Should I fight and Should I die
Would I feel at peace or cry?
O' wonderful person before me
I can't help but feel as if you tease me
I am not a poet.
My poetry is not considered poetry.
My poems are a door for me and, me alone,
They are a way for me to cope, to understand.
Nobody knows my life better than my poems,
Grin at the fact that this page is my shrine.
Where I write what I feel,
It's more than surreal.
It's fact. Written down just like that.
With the snap of my fingers.
Does the impact linger?
I'm sitting in this chair, arms tied behind my back.
A dark room with pure shadows and nothing but whispers.
Blind folded and pinned down to the sounds of
Orange light passes slowly on; as a slow brook passes an even slower traveler on his melancholy way through life.
While you were busy resurrecting instances of critical synthesis the head nurse beat you to the sliver of hope, rinsed it out and out came a question"where am I?" I don't know kid, that's what we're all trying to find out "hey, where's Tweedl
I fear that as I grow older,I am not so much getting wiser,But rather, imaginativeIn hiding my lack of knowledge.
Every day is Halloween.Put on my costume,Put on my face.Double check, Triple check to make sure I look happy.
I saw her today for the first time
She seemed like she had existed for quite a while
Her face always a smile, a laugh on her tongue
Sorrow, Emotions that travel through each human being as we face triumph and hardships in our lives,
a world full of confusion as every young professional tries to thrive.
Ask me who I am, and I will not hear you,
for I am deep within this crowd calling out my own name.
I will not know the sound of my own voice
until it whispers back.
Until then, I will spend my hours
Heads tilt sideways
Eyes peering in
Hearts beat to the same
Rhythm.
Come with us
Come with us
They plead
Lips glued upwards
In a grin.
Hair is swaying
When I was younger, I went by a rule. I wouldn't speak to you, unless you spoke to me first. What hurt, was when they said, "Wow, you're actually cool." Was their original opinion of me something much worst?
Paintings are the sky in many colors,
She looks and observes as well as many others,
Green as the grass as she is the color of life,
Shining through the dark scaring the demons of the night,
The art of progression
Is something of enlightenment
The fact that you can evolve
And then involve your mind
In a split second
A fragment of your life
Becomes your whole
Time
Waisted
Her left hand rests palm-down against the mirror,this hand is relaxed in comparison to her fluttering mind.Who am I? She wonders.
In the dead of night, crickets play their song.
I lay on the cold dirt ground, while in your arms.
Look up, you say.
A diamond filled like sky.
I see a smile.
Her eyelashes, laced with playfulness
Eyelids, lined with pride and colored with curiosity
Cheeks, powdered with determination
Lips, stained with innocence
Why must you pull me back?
you evil thing tugging with a lion's brutality on the cords of my ankles.
then I cannot walk or run free.
and leap through those transparent but fierce and threatening walls of this cage.
Never get lost in the maze of making others happy,
you may lose your own happiness in the process.
No need to look, search, or wander,
simply glance in the mirror, and look within yourself.
She’s broken.
Broken into so many pieces from everything she has ever been through.
Her heart cries out for a helping hand, but the tears just continue to flow like a waterfall.
She’s terrified.
I see the Eleanor Rigbys and Gilbert Grapes everywhere I go,
The people who forgot long ago to
See beauty in people laughing, sunflowers shooting up
Out of the ground.
There are people who have never heard a canary
Rusty bricks painted by graffiti.
Lit neon flickered—
Quick Draw! ATM Inside!
Steam rose out of street grates
as if it were ghostly fingers come to carry sinners below.
The sign posted—
My soul is river stone
And fire fed
Dragon eyed and embered
Lurking in mountain’s jeweled gold
Soaring on iron wings
Late at night, my thoughts come to play
Dancing in my head, each leap of thought a new a brilliant point
Sometimes bright and full, sometimes melancholy
All creating a glorious web in my mind’s theater
My life is weak sauce. Not bad for what it is, but still.
You exemplify gloriously what I’m not even close to having:
You know more words and more ways to talk. You stand eight inches taller and look ten tons stronger.
I dedicate myself to public speaking
Peaking subtly along with the days and nights and weeks and whatever comes next
Sometimes I talk too much
It’s not enough to always think after I
Open my mind up,
To be what I want to be is hard.
To be what they want me to be is harder.
To follow behind others and never be myself,
thats somthing I have done for years.
But I refuse to do that anymore.
There was a man.
Who lived in a home on top a hill
He lived alone
He watched the birds come by his house
He watched kids playing outside his home
He wondered what it was like, to chase after that ball
You would not like to know what lies in the depths of my soul
And yet you want the truth.
You do not understand what secrets that I hide.
You ask why don’t I sleep,
Why don’t I eat,
When I was a child you held me tight,
but now it's time for me to say good bye.
I'll miss the way you kissed me good night,
and how you woke me up by just turning on one light.
It is cold.
Not outside in this physical state but mentally and inside this heart and mind.
It is cold.
Its something I can't control but it has happened.
I am a zombie walking the path of life's hardships.
Three siblings
Two parents
Six grandparents
Sixteen years old
She's such a sweet girl, a joy to have in class
She gets on well with the other children
I don't understand
This violence
It sickens me
To be cruel is so easy
Yet to be kind is so difficult.
I find this hard to believe.
Although to look on the outside
To believe, is so difficult.
I am from the smell of the Ohio River and the soft kisses of sunlight on my skin.
From the jungle gyms and slides that create the paths of my life.
I live in a dream
My own reality
I live in a meadow
Where I find myself
I live on a balcony
My own aerial view
I live in tomorrow
My own today
Look in the mirror
Look at what you see
Do you see the same girl,
The one that I see?
When I look at you,
I see a beautiful person
I see the girl you are,
The one you try to hide
If I am to be one thing,
let me be transparent.
No, not to fade off this earth.
Let me reveal the dreams I nurture within me.
Let my past be exposed.
Let my inspirations and drives
radiate through me—
We each have a well inside of us,
filled with exhilaration and craze.
It is our driving force.
It is the host of every moral and desire we once entertained.
It is the common truth that connects us all,
I want to be barefoot.
I want to leave my shoes behind.
I want to feel the gravel,
touch the squish in the tar,
feel the temperature amplified on concrete
Who Am I?
I’ve asked myself
Who are you?
People have asked me
I am a spoiled girl with a loving family
I am the daughter of a Marine
I am the daughter of a strong woman
I am the sister of a soldier
How can I feel everything and nothing at the same time?
How can I be loved, but still feel all alone?
How can I be smart, but act so stupid?
How can I be stressed and frustrated, yet appear to be calm?
Between the ink & paper
Is where the true story lies
Between the written word
I hide myself
"Who's the fairest?" They all ask. Deciding can be quite the task. Primping, smudging, popping pimples. Her hair is frizzy, oh but such cute dimples! Not him, not her, Oh and God not him. Did you see his crepey mole-rat skin?
That girl who cut deep into her skin,
for short outburst of relief.
Brown sugar gliding against the sharpness
of red.
That happiness that the blood reveled
seemed like it was being healed.
the rain is pouring
an old man sits on a bench in an open field and looks up at the sky
he reaches for the shovel
he begins to dig
As long as its in the future time will move me toward it,so im going to keep on fighting, while im struggling but its worth it., tired of all the hatred,im tired of all the fighting, so tired of my own lies,sick of my self portrait, disliking who
Most people think I am fine within myself.
I would love to tell them how I really feel about
All the turmoil in my heart and head
And my priorities.
I wish I had a folder so they were easier to see.
Wile E. on the hunt to capture Roadey
Devising devious schemes
To get you here with me
Backfiring
I knew a girl that never wore shorts or short sleeved shirts,
she never wore shorts or short sleeved shirts.
I mean it’s something that no one really thinks twice about
or even once about her.
life’s not a puzzle
at least not for me
i’m like the sand between your toes
there’s no one place for me to go
i get by in the creases of it all
i’m not a piece
i just hold them all together
the edge of tide,
the edge of reality.
Water is a mirror of Ourselves,
with no place to call home.
Calm or Turbulent,
we are still us.
Fear, such a small word yet it’s a huge feeling. Fear is something I am experiencing. I’m afraid to let my guard down only to be shot down again.
I see you looking down
Wearing a classic frown
I try acting like a clown;
But still your forlorn mounds
It is true silence does confound
To darkness you are bound
But I want you back!
I Am The Waves In The Ocean And The Roots Of The Trees.
I am wind and thunder and rain.
I am the image of my father, Kemet.
I am soil and breath and soul.
I am Africa personified.
In the way I walk
She's damaged love
Waiting for someone to understand
Brokenhearted
And broken minded
She won't think of complexity
Because that brings up her anxiety
She pretends she perfect
hurting way down deep
pain, so complete.
i can't think, I can't breathe
i can't do anything.
it's a scary thing to hurt
so bad.
it's awful to not
understand why.
A song of myself is one with no tune.
It has no rhyme or reason,
Nor rhythm or meaning.
It cannot be heard by the naked ear,
Sometimes it cannot even be heard by its creator.
Sometimes my song gets lost.
Dreaming, wondering
Believing.
The Girl who was always
Believing
That anything could happen.
That you could fall in love with anyone.
She always urged me to stand out, to
Believe
Success they say is in the eye of the beholder
But my beholder ignores the fire, recognizes only the smolder
My fire burns a different way and a different color
Because my thinking is just so unlike any other
Nobody grows up anymore
They get caught up in disappointments
Stuck in broken promises
Rejected by scenes of what used to be.
All alone in her room.
All alone in the world.
The crying doesn't stop.
Never does hate.
How can a little piece of metal help you to hate yourself so much?
It cuts like butter,
It hurts like a knife.
Bleed, pour, sacrifice
Your body and your soul
Fight back, or give in
But you will never be whole.
The mirror.
The home of my worst enemy.
Myself.
I see her again today.
Her waist.
Not small enough.
Her face.
Not pretty enough.
Her hair.
Not long enough.
Her skin.
It burns in the back of my mind,
day and night the burning goes,
bursting to be untethered,
lust, fear, sorrow and pride,
its all here,
in the back of my mind,
but if I were to unleash these inner demons,
