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Her mind His body Her attitude His ambition I crave what they have What they´ve worked so hard for I want it so I´ll fight for it My inspiration is competetion
Her mind His body Her attitude His ambition I crave what they have What they´ve worked so hard for I want it so I´ll fight for it My inspiration is competetion
don't touch me again. get your tiny, sweaty hands off of me i want your Axe body spray smell mixed with B.O. out of my nose i can never go to the park again not after what happened on the bridge
Today was like every other day It was so terribly long and so terribly dreary I fear these feelings will never end I’ll always feel so dark feel so hopeless
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
the mutterings the mutterings the hush no oh but I can not hold they swell and they mingle with words not my own is this the fate? seeking and penning and pining?
The first time I grew up, I was ten years old. I was wearing a blood red dress And a wide-eyed, prepubescent smile. My mother bought me ice cream
A liquid asset currently in my safe. In bullet form it can kill a werewolf. He who has the desired personality type women want. The color one’s hair turns with age/stress.
What is happiness ?Is it a misconception of the human mind ?How do we know when we are happy ?What defines happiness ?Who decides happiness for us ?How do we know what ourReal smile looks like ?
Mirror, mirror on the wall, Why do you lie about it all? Why is it never what you say? Why can’t the lies just go away? I wish you’d show me the truth, Show me who I really am,
We will have peace, Whether we are in Eden, Or Gethsemane. For we will rise with the sun, And we will eat sweet fruit, From His vineyards. We will go to the water,
The sun just rose in lost connection, Please undo the times we have held onto believe, False hope, dreams, and expectation. I'm just glad those two came out alive, In due time, it's overwhelming inside.
This here, in my hands, is nothing more than an hour glass. Time paves each grain of sand and marks the hours pass. As each grain stumbles through a maze of consciousness, It begins to identify itself with the others.
You walk towards me, effortlessly showing how flawless you are, with the wind around you content, as if twirling to celebrate your existence. You’re a breathing piece of literary art and you don’t even know it.
Merry Christmas! Happy Hanukkah! Happy Qwanza! Whatever holiday you choose, This is the magical time of the year. There is so much we can do. It does not hurt to take a break and celebrate.
I love rhyming I do it all day long Whenever I start rhyming I want to sing a melody I love rhyming It’s all that I can do
I have been beaten and shamed My heart has broken, my mind has fallen apart But surrounded by my struggles I’m still standing.
For all the raging seas, For all the turbulent forces, For all the doors that had no keys,
You are the shards of a mirror used in a mosaic. You catch the Light as you did before you shattered, And yet the Light is more beautiful for it all— The breaking, the cracking, the gluing,
Oh, archaic smiles! Oh, shall I never be free of you? Your eyes stare into me, With a gaze that died long ago, And your smile is painted on, Mocking your viewer with childlike scorn.
when my mother sprained her wrist,she told me, “it’s like lying on the bathroom floor while the world goes black. all you can do is cry. all you can do is
I keep my head down while dark thoughts create a storm in my head. The black velvet sky blots out the burning sun. I don't know why I'm still here. My want for breathing is receding and my heart is bleeding for a love
The washerwoman turns to me and asks,“Did you hear about Damalis?”Our hands dip into the cool river waters,Cold linen draped along our slipping skin.
It's Saturday I wake up Mom knows Breakfast shows up at 8 It's Saturday Dad's gone Off to work Won't be back till late Next morning On a trip
the body of a woman is no place for a man’s pathetic desires.
when i look in your eyes i see blue and then i look at the sky i love you when i see your lips rise in the silent nights or during the busy days i will
I hope you won’t mind A little free verse for this poem. I suppose I could follow a format Or rules or such, If it were required of me. I mean, in some areas of life, rules are desperately needed,
Hating poetry is easy It makes you think It makes you learn Teachers force you to write in weird ways To convey stoies you don't care about What even is poetry except dumb-downed writing?
I feel like I have a lot Of love And it's stuck inside me. Where can I put it? I put it in tears for the heartbroken I put it in letters for the fatherless I put it in the poor man's cup
Poetry to me is not some Centipede -Not just a little Inconsequential- But rather a place Where I can face
I love you! And I don’t know how to tell you that I love you Is the problem that we’re having here The thing is you don’t even realize How much I love you And you won’t unless I make you realize
My Uncle joined the circus, which is okay, I guess, if you like that sort of thing. Truth is, that sort of thing really creeps me out, like how Lunchables
my legs feel frail again (oh am i wilting?) i don’t know if i’ve skipped to the end or rewound to the beginning unsteady i betray myself almost done, can’t sway not this time this time
You were always the one for me, But you never knew me at all. You've seen me at my peaks, And you've witnessed my falls.
You are my world I taste the stars on your tongue I see the sun on your skin I hear the ocean in your voice I feel the wind from your fingertips I smell the rain in your breath but in your soul
you are my heaven with you I fear death no more
tell me that you want a tree, an Apple Tree. the fruit you desire, it will produce but, if you, plant it first. the tree will give you many years but, if you, will give it drink.
Not of this world From her heart she roars through space She wept oceans from her blues Her pied piper was a starman
I'd love to confuse you. If you cannot love me, I hope You'd think you did at times; That I annoyed you just enough
Dear Time, When we first met, I was stricken by your tall body, towering over mine. Your silky whispers make me shy,
Dear Jensen,I wish the best for you and hope you figure out your way for our sake. I know you might quake from your journey, but please stand firm and do not forget who you are.
Oh, fire walk with me? Dance with me, Kill me, Push me. Ignite the words I speak. Kiss the people I miss. Burn my memories. Let your flames dance with me, Before it goes on eternally.
Now, we are not as fortunate as our predecessors Bundled with debt; fixated on love, life is now but a stressor Though,as many challenges we may face, we still seem to embrace
Everything I am is tied to my stomach. I feel everything so intensely; sometimes, I feel the wind get knocked out of me. I am convinced there’s a little girl in my heart pulling the strings from up above.
Dear Jumbled Emotions, Rage rolls like electricity, sparking And cracking like a child in wooly socks Rubbing her feet on a fleecy carpet. It’s an odd feeling, so powerful, yet
dear Me in the Closet, imagine a sunrise that goes on for forever,the radiant colors staining every inch of the sky you see.beautiful, right?
Dear Forgotten Ones, In the beginning, I took you for granted. In the beginning, I hid you on a shelf. You collected dust In the back of my mind For many a year.
Drive through the rain through the night Drive with the music loud and the wind blowing Drive to help me remember what it's like to be Alive
my eyes stare behind all blurs there is only you and me in this moment alone in the universe but intertwined together you and me
Dear Mother, You ask if I’m alright, always expecting a simple ‘I’m alright’, or ‘I’m fine’. And that’s what you get, because that’s what you expect and I know that so it’s okay.
Dear Heaven, I am merely a stranger in search of a home Your customs are rather unusual Those of which I am willing to assimilate Stories of your angels have been told in my land for ages
Dear Father The way you care for me throughout my life It makes me feel like I miss you. Teaching me how to ride my bike, tie my shoes, and do math. Reading scripture and applying it to our lives.
Bubbling vastness Reaching, bursting, from solidity Gassing off the rigid, excited to be free Swindling the once contained energy Nearly blasphemy— It was a miracle to witness thee
It’s not perfectBut because I love youits imperfectionIt is the very definitionof perfectionfor me A gentle squeeze of the handis sweaty
Long hours of night are not meant for dreaming. They are for dreams to keep you awake - to fill books with imagination.
Because I love you don’t talk to them I don’t want you taken away from me What are you hiding on your phone?
Uncertainty is my enemy, my mortal dream, my inconspicuous nightmare, and my one true love. Though the clock still chimes every hour, I cannot will myself to stand upright
Then she came home. She came home, she saw the bruises on my arms. She came home and cayght every flinch, every inflection of my voice. Every time I apologized, she caught it.
because I truly love you, I will tell the truth to you even when it hurts you. because I truly love you, I will not lie to hurt you but maybe to help you. because I truly love you,
We have all said it. Three words who are always together. Always hugged close together, like an invisible rope is around their waists. Three words who can make or break us.
When the one you love most is getting hurt, what do you do? I knew her the best; we spent so much time together, it's impossible anyone surpassed our closeness.
You bring out the Romantic in me. The unbearable-but-somehow-funny pun-maker in me. The patient, pink and white rose-giver in me. You bring out the Adventurer in me.
Because I love you, I openly put your happiness before mine.Because I love you, I take down my walls that others have caused me to put up. Because I love you, I give you all my free time.
When she was a little girl Without her cloak Without her crimson-red shield She was innocent, full of light, full of life
The land was ruled by a sultan, Who named his young daughter, For the light that the full moon spilt on the ground; The lamp was found by found by the princess; Hidden deep within the desert sand,
The beauty holds the rose in beauty. Lush petals bloom and glimmer in her fleshly palms, and the dew drips, drips, drips to the stone floor
You’re a girl in a world where your voice gets cut before people get to listen. Mother and Father tell you to hush, child, Let the adults do the talking.
Only can bottle it up in glass one at a time. My second hand right on Rome, lemon lime ticking and itching into unseen wants, leaning into what I hide when my southpaw mainhand
Ghosts of memories I have never had press up against me in this place. I hear the echoes of your footsteps running up and down the paneled staircase but I only see your scuffmarks.
I was the final descendant, the last of my kind. Our bones were built of bread, our enemies in tiny Bits in our bellies, their taste bitter.
A beast A beauty A hideous monster Cold hearted and sharp Harsh words ringing through hallowed hall It was once a home And there was once a king Granite and marbles banisters
Sorrow comes in peculiar ways. The father kneels next to his motionless son, icy tears rolling down as he grips an icy hand.
Why am I hiding from God? Unlike Adam and Eve, I put on a "Hello brethren, happy Sabbath" facade, instead of a fig leaf.
Handmade by the divine Carefully deposited in time The moment we cross paths And can't leave the way we came. Will I ever be ready And how will I know? Somehow I'm lovesick
Sometimes you look at me as though i’ve never kissed a girl before. I cannot tell if it is pity or love which causes you to fret over my virgin lips.
But now you look And you wonder When it was you grew up And you think how Things will never be As they were Or as they are And these last few months Of one chapter
I saw you last night, you filthy man. I saw you in your car, you picked me up like a stray dog, made sure I was safe and locked in before you drove away. you pet my leg and told me you missed me.
Beep. A dozen roses. Beep. Sparkly red cards. Beep. Heart-shaped box of chocolates. Beep-beep-beep. I rush to cut down the line. Rustle. Balloons that say "love." Rustle.
if your heart does not callmy name like it isa song, a chant, a mantra,then i ask that you do not takeanother step closer to me.
I dreamed the unspeakable Nearly to the realm of unimaginable But not quite Rewind to last night Moments before I awoke To the beep of my 6:30 alarm And the vivid imaginings I held
To think of who I was last year is tricky I am not now who I am now. I am not better, i am not worse. My heart is certainly broken for all my heroes i have lost telling me to be free
wrestling with an impression of myself,confidence scant and creativity diluted,I found solace in the arms of a soldier who decidedmy dreams encompassed all the world-just not the war he was fighting.
Does your mother strain her brain for words and correct English pronunciation patterns the same way you strain your eye muscles at the minuscule black letters hovering from the
you are everything you are a rusted pin at the bottom of my purse you are a children’s Christmas tale
i try to walk away i try to move on but you are the ball and chain around my ankles i will keep running and i will keep fighting but eventually the weight will become too much and i will fall
So many people will come along who will tell you that your mind is a work of art. That your brain is the contemporary art of modern society- to some, there will only be lines and shapes,
He sits, silent and still as ever, waiting He sits, watching everything around him go by The seaons abandon him Humans abandon him, too No more cold nor heat No more chatter nor laughter Silence
Imagine a roller coaster Perhaps your favorite thrill ride Or one that scared you to death The wildest one you've ever ridden Picture your car
Like A Girl I play like a girl, I hit like a girl You say I throw like a girl, And, when I run -- I run like a girl! All that plus more, enjoy this one size fits all
Copyright © by Nikhil Parekh
Copyright © by Nikhil Parekh
Copyright © by Nikhil Parekh
Copyright © by Nikhil Parekh
Copyright © by Nikhil Parekh
Copyright © by Nikhil Parekh
Copyright © by Nikhil Parekh
Copyright © by Nikhil Parekh
Locker 1453. I left a part of myself behind your door on the last day of seventh grade; you wheezed and sputtered when I opened you, but I didn't mind; for you had become a strange sort of companion
I’m still standing here with scars on my cheeks and red dots on my hands that scream when I touch the scabs they have become - all too suddenly and all to quietly I can hear myself
Don’t be sad when I leave you Be happy I’m up here watching you make new memories Don’t worry Our memories together will always last F
Deep, Deep, Blue. Blue hands. Blue lips. Blue lungs. Blue hearts. Sinking down. To the vast blue ocean Of my stomach. Strangled.
I. You were the beacon I needed as we trailed along a scattered glass shore. Brine on flesh, we wished to sail against the heartbeat of crashing waves.
I. We grew up in the age of idiocy as children down along the seaside. Back in the day, I wanted to sail ships, leave this beach in our wake.
Explosion. Nuclear warfare ignites the city; the meltdown happens far too soon to process. My eyes flicker open to hospital lights - white sanctuary walls
Have I ever wished to dive into a ravine? I would have said no. I'm forced to say yes. What were once my sweetest dreams crash upon the rocks. Drain the mania;
My heart is best decribed as being a bird in a bottle, with fleeting wings beating against glass lungs. It sits on the border of yesterday's panic and tomorrow's desperation,
The painted sky is brought to life with flickers of golden light. I have torched the night with the war cry you taught me. We are an inferno, fueled by knowledge,
There's more to hurt If you look for the marks The gaps you leave Yawning chasms The raw emotion The fresh bleed of Fear, rage Pain Still where you left it
i couldn't breathe beneath the humid air, too much oxygen for fragile, failing lungs; my father's rage, walls singed from the flames,
My safe haven, resides in my room Music echoes all over my room, bearing a mind of it's own In my safe haven, I call my room, I shall not frown Calm and collected, this room bares no secrets
Pure light in her presenceuntouched beauty reflectedto kiss such perfect promisecreating hours of miraclesperformed upon wonderarousal and expectationsas twilight finished wandering
In each commodityhides calamitya pinnacle to serve and or pleasea glow or extract effortlessly asleepdreaming, dwelling, questioningdifferences with explosive qualitieseach an energetic atom
Unityof all thingsshall return to ourrelationship at the source…Manifestations within love's paradigmof life being nourished through connectionin sustenance for those ultimate proceedings
Individuality isstrengthtooled with suchbeauty, with the brutalityof intelligencean afterthoughtgiven kindnessgiven claritygiven ruleslife and gracein great minds
How old are you? Younger than me, maybe Probably If you take your cues from the way My body creaks My limbs speak And tell all my secrets. It's annoying, but What can you do?
It is my unalienable right to not be here right now. I’m entitled to the pursuit of happiness and this isn’t it.Maybe stars get lonely too,Thousands of miles away from their closest friendMaybe they are sick
Did they still give chase? On horseback, he rode Soon he’d tire of their game, That of cats and mice Where to go?
"you only pick the goods from her remains, because it's only a persistence
ink is bloodand this pen is wired up to my heart,rather than pop another antacidi’m gonna bleed onto this pagemy anxiety, alienation, and ambition
Poetry is my emotional dialectit combats my autocratic intellectblessed with irrefutable honestyit contributes to my allometry
if you asked me to say what poetry means to me i could not write you a poem about it for i write poems when i feel broken or hopeful i write poems to burn bridges and build new ones for myself
Well... when she ended it I felt like it was the end of my world and it tore me up because I saw that my place in the universe was frozen in a nightmare, yet the rest of the universe was moving in bliss and tranquility.
When the land between the water shall meetAll our great battles will be complete Tis then we know we have been beatWhen the voices go silent And the water grows stillThen we shall know what we wait tillThe mighty traveler is too cold Our days are
a pair of tired eyes, resting over a pair of lips forever longing for a kiss even an unpolluted night sky could not outshine her brilliance x'd out eyes gaze upon this beauty, eyes of none other than
Poetry is what soothes my soul When the sky is blue Or when the sky is grey Poetry is there to brighten my day One of my favorite poems Is by Langston Hughes I, Too I am the darker brother, he spoke
In my constant state of anxiety ridden gait, I shuffle to class, avoiding eye contact as to not converse, as my own mind is sufficient or inefficient enough. Passing by the same hallway everyday leaves me numb, as did the amount of infatuation tha
What I Can't Live Without
I remember, Age four or five, Hiding behind a pillar with a grin, An adult playfully asking my name. My face splitting with a grin, “Anna Uitvlucht.” Uitvlucht. Rolling of Oma’s tongue,
I've spent a lifetime in this room.Certain sources of light.Various lamps have come and gone,all lasting different times.Wherever they have been placedin the dark box that is my room,
In a desert where escaping from the heat is impossible I would bring as much water as I could cary. I will think I am dying. The water gives me hope.
Him The waves crash The gulls cry The sun is setting The moon is rising
With words of poison in my direction, I am an artist.Express feeling with color and word;paintbrush and pen.
Imperfection. No trace of rapture lingers in torment.She, who cannot love herself,is without peace in mind and body.
My guiding light, my friend, my paper and pen Growing up I haven't had a steady friend, a diary to confide in I don't ask for a response Just that someone listens to me
Tall buildings litter the streets As I walk I look up and say “Wow, you know what these buildings remind me of?” I look to my side and realize I am walking alone
Summertime is around again my feet are burning like when we danced all night that summer it was July, and the long rain had finally stopped
my beginning was you and when you held me in your arms and told me forever, in that moment i swear the world stopped and listened. my beginning was you and when you took me
Summer sounds, float down suburban streets.The noisy hum of cicadas,the squeaky whir of portable fans,the hearty crunch of watermelon seeds,the hollow clink of ice cubes, suspended in sticky lemonade.
I sink like a brick at the first sign of trouble, whether or not I’d like to admit it, I tried to get out this, but couldn’t quite fit the thing into
I used to be an institution Mothers used to bring their children, point at my twin hearts and say "Look how it's made of different pieces. Do you see the glove?
Part I. They Fell In Simply put I cannot understand you The way you make my chest shorten And the way all this furniture of our lives came about
On the broken stairs of a trailer My weary soul sat On the broken edge of a rusted sink My hands rested flat They followed themselves up the mirror
There is beauty in everything in life, in death, in whatever comes before but beauty mostly resides inside of a heart
Rhythm; A regulated beat or pattern of sound. But that is not how I roll, that is not who I am. I am wild, irregular even, and nobody can stop that. My beat drowns out everyone elses,
You have made me a time traveler I came to you a steely kid with a hunger for danger that refused to oblige me But you did, filling my purse with pills that promised me nothing And yet I thought they did
It doesn’t matter if you have blemishes from those who’ve shaped you; you are beautiful- lean and tall, getting thicker as my eyes travel down.
The whirring gears slow To a quiet hum. Powering down. The hard drive store its information And hides tomorrows plans. Powering down, powering down. The pumping memory starts to calm
Losing his mind... Tick-Tock Tick-Tock Is it his age? Is he in depression? Amnesia maybe? No, it must be depression. Running out of time... Tick-Tock Tick-Tock
I’ll be your sky. I’ll be your sea. I’ll be anything you want me to be. Just please don’t leave me.
My arms are long, My hair is wooly, no I am not worried because, Who will ever see? You know my back is strong and, Just as sturdy as it can be.. after
1 The clouds slide past and rising, rustle against the blank sky. Their grandeur throws me off balance. I wish I could throw off my clothes
Everything is awesome and I know that sounds trite because not everything is awesome, with war, famine, discrimination, and corruption shrouding our beautiful planet in a fog of evil so thick
I love the depths of my creativity - My abyss of imagination That lives with the creatures in my head. The way paintbrushes can be weapons To all of the worry in the world
Retreat, regroup Wind pummels rocky water, Kinetic greets potential, Bearing down on the steadfast shore. Prequel of froth Turbulent and tumultuous, Echoed in the susurrus of spectators,
I lie beneath the silence, outstretched not calm, the waves of light pass over me.
This Breath,This breath is alive,He breathes calm into my chaos,He breathes laughter into my sadness,
The sound of high heels clacking would echo through the cement hallway of my apartment building. Each step in perfect rhythm growing louder as she moved down the hall closin
Get all your ducklings in a row
The colors of the universe Envelop my body As I am one with it
oh, purest of unities:
Earl Sweatshirt bumping in my headphones. You there blue haired. Me dazed by intelegence radiating out from your mind left open.
If I tell you that I don't like your selfie, will you go off and hate me? If I don't have an Instagram, Does that make me a loser, man?
People talk about me and it used to bother me they said I was annoying they said I was loud and weird
on the first day it’s shitty beer and your shitty bandkid, maybe you want your name up in lights
My poetry is in the New Old Age My words are that of the Victorian gents and beyond Whom I must thank For thine insperation But my verses My meter My punctuation
I'm falling, falling, falling into the darkness I'm screaming, but no one hears me
Dear World, Dear Former Friend, Dear Dead Desire, Why do I love?
Eyes hold lies Ears hold lies It is not only the mouth that holds lies Whatever you're seeing is wrong, YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL Whatever you're hearing is wrong, YOU'RE WORTHY
I stay the same underneath, What my selfie seems to be. Whether on or offline My smile stays the same. I am the player, And Instagram's the game. Underneath the clothes and shining light.
Who am I? I'm no one I'm someone, that no one sees I'm outgoing And I'm "here" So why do I feel invisable? Because my name isn't my name My face doesn't look how it should
i’m sad sunshine body sunlight veins the sun it’s a new day but not a fresh start and i shouldn’t be sad
She Is The Sun
She may not be the very definition of beauty but her self-restrained chaos unravels all connotations of the word. She’s more than a number, more than a status. In a world of never ending can’ts, won’ts, shouldn’ts,
This heavy darkness encapsulates, a blanket over the whole ocean, a danger and a savior to bate
Under the sea Where the fish roam free Oh, what a beauty it is When it's not polluted. How can we stop the pollution when it's coming from our own land? Let's not make our oceans so bland.
The notches on the wall, Are in my skin. I’ve carved your name, On my heart. There’s no going back, One you’ve claimed something Made it yours Tamed it. I built your cage out of regrets
You seem to have misplaced me; I am on this endeavor alone. And I miss your ocean colored eyes and how the belonged with the sunset in mine. It echoes, my head, with things you can no longer seem to say.
It is now that I understand that I have underestimated the angst towards complacency. Complacency is being finished. Uninterested. The lack of fear.
i stand in front of my mirror staring at
What is Love? Is it felt? Smelled? Breathed? Or does it just exist? Is Love a person, a thing, or an idea? Where does it live? In me, or maybe, in you?
Bromance is different from Romance. It’s really obvious why. There’s the absence of kisses and roses and hearts. And Romance is everything that Bromance is not. It’s not
Self-destruction's in my pathI'm takin' the easy waymost of us arewe're all on a path to self-destructionWhere's the big red button that says easy?When you find it, Press itHARDTake a step back.
The very thought of you,is making me crazy.Maybe I'm just crazy.But then so are you.We said we would take on the world.We said,"Let's be radicals together."I thought you were nutsbut
The cradle of the world is made of words The words we say everyday Like, to, me, is, but, she How, what, the, heck The words we say in private Love, you, are, me, my, everything We aren’t picky
Ask me Where does conviction lie? In our hearts or in our minds? Do we see the light of a setting sun As a moonbeam on the horizon? Catch a star, give it a name, shake off the dust
The universe is painted in hidden meanings. Step to the edge of oblivion and watch the stars fly by. What becomes real is infinite. The world of fantasy is always just beyond reach;
"My thoughts are stars I cannot fathom into constellaions." Shooting across the sky of my brain. I try to change their position to avoid the pain
I have been here in this life time and time again. I have been to hell and looked the devil right it the eyes. There I walk broken and cast aside, I am not okay.
This one goes for a star beyond comprehension His eyes doth see, but not mine, but I see his Outstanding hues of blues through a forest of his black hair
Twas a dark night. The sky was a black void And stars shined freely. Wind was blowing swiftly as I stood alone. I was given but one mission, To get rid of a greatly known villain.
This poem is not important.
Merry-go-round DreamsWritten by Adam M. SnowMerry-go-round dreams;round and round it goes.In a cloudy scene,
life drowning yanked into the current arms flailing, head bobbing struggling to stay
Everyone is alone
"I like the idea of touch," i told her. "What does that mean?" she asked. So i showed her. The heels of our hands came together and the tips of our fingers touched.
You've gone, left me. I lie in this pitiful home of lonesome, louring me into the darkest of depressions. How could you do such thing? I've always given the best for you, always made sure you were happy.
I wear these black tear tracks as a flag of hurt. Pronouncing my misery to this empty house. I wear this reminder as a reflection of that in which keeps me going. Achieving. Succeeding. For I need to escape.
A question asked of me, Flying or invisibility? Answers rang out, invisibility, no doubt! I shook my head, For I knew better. It doesnt take magic, It doesn't take powder.
At any given moment you could ask me what's on my mind and I could give you a categorized list with bullet points to spare left blank for the few memories that are climbing out of bed
Oh, tell m
This world is against us. Society doesn't accept us. We are an army of two and that is all that matters. I love you and you love me and that's all that matters at the end the day. Fuck what everyone else says.
The trees dance The wind runs astray. The birds hum And the water sighs. What could be missing? There's nothing else But beauty here. No other signs of life.
It would be beneficial Don't you think To teach us how to throw a punch Rather than to throw a ball? To train us not to fight But to defend And to run In case we need to
we are taught to remove our individuality because no one likes a weirdo
And as she lay on her bed staring up at her ceiling, starlight filtered through her window curtains shines differently. She looks at herself, sees something blooming, instead of the
I wish I could write myself into understanding. That these gray lead lines etched on tree flesh like an ugly tattoo could inch their way up my hand, my arm, my neck, crawl in through my ear to occupy
Look child, real close now, do those cracks reach your unopened eyes? You really can’t see, can you?
I wish darkness could comfort.That the cloak the moon laysover the sky could reach around mein warm embrace, that the stars couldtwinkle and tell me stories behind the eyes
She likes her coffee black And in her system Before the sun rises It reminds her of her mother And she often wonders
You are an angel, unpainted Fallen from the heavens Like rain drops from a cloud Flowing with life, love, and lucid beauty From stream to river, Words floods from my mouth
She compliments me She says she admires my work I laugh on the inside but outwardly am pleasant She does not realize that I am a mere dilettante of the weakest kind
You come into the world with at least one person Your mother, and you leave alone. Between the time you come and go you're suppost to bond with other, Make connections,
Anxiety is a writer that bleeds incoherent words From the cuticles that she has bitten off And promises herself that she will finish her book everyday, But cannot figure out how a billion stories
It's completely impossible. There is absolutly no point. When writing that perfect life story. Why? Because it just is. Our life has just surely begun. We're at the point in our lives where we just now beginning to breathe.
I decriminalized my mind via glow In the dark hallucinations and incredible dreams and imaginations We miss you and I’ve had enough No more of these petty imitations Cut the forming shackles and love yourself
I am swollen with juvenile curiosity, Exploding with raw and apathetic motivation
It's not just a phase I won't just get over it Ignoring it doesn't make it go away When my heart is lead And sighs are heavier than granite I can't flip a switch and stop This is a part of me
It's ridiculous. Yelling, screaming, fighting with each other. What's the point? Does it make you feel better, Cursing at one another? We're not wild beasts, Isn't that what we've always been taught?
It was the coward's way out, he knew. He could feel it rolling around in his gut like a stupidly cheerful puppy.
If I had taken the other path Where would I be now? Many times I have contemplated The many-faceted image Of myself, In a far different place. If I had chosen darkness instead
I am the whisperer You may never hear a single word from me But rather, hints here and there—everywhere A calming wind, a sparkle in the evening air A forgotten dream, a burdened care
Summer’s curse has thus hardened my soul To the conceptions lovely Spring had bestowed I long for Autumn’s calm wind and idle thought Untainted by reality and the dull of this world
Skin touches skin Lungs breathe in another’s breath Time overlaps and melts away There is nothing anymore Eyes close Heartstrings pluck and quicken Dreams become reality
Hidden deep underneath Sheets of paper from the past Intermingled with artifacts A time not so ancient But twice forgotten Is eternally retold. Closing my eyes, I think
I've never felt more alone than I do now. Years and years have gone by, But it has only been now that I feel empty in a crowded room. I feel that I'm drowning in the middle of the sea.
Don’t have to get up if I don’t want to But don’t feel like sitting still So I think about what I want Slicing open the smooth white belly of a whale Soft and bloodied
like a cancer—it creeps: a constant sting at the back of the head like a cancer— it consumes and i(t) will eithersurvive/kill
commence a war within my rib cagepicked clean and emptywith the stinging electricityof his touch. a failure of lessons taught again again again
You quivered at the sound of rainas it seduced you into a wickedpleasure of placidity. I’ll never beable to comprehend how magnificentlybeautiful you looked as your taintedgreen eyes were fixated on the ripples
Who else can take a broken heart and use the blood as ink to write the perfect tragedy? Or twist a stupid mistake and transform it into an intricate strategy? I have been damned with the soul of a writer.
The best kings have it, the worst kings reject it The trampled peasant is content to have it But is miserable without it No money or power can buy it Yet it equalizes all, for they are seen as the same
You brought me along for the ride: You loved me, Took care of me, Were there for me, And became the mother I never had.
Relax and it will happen Sink into position Diverge from the pain To build muscle
Looking back on my childhoodReminiscing in the depths of my memories,An epiphany illuminates my mind.It is almost over.
If hope is the thing with wingsSoaring higher and higher into an expanse-less skyFlying far beyond the horizon's edgeI would that I had flamesTo scorch these wings
To you I am invisibleA translucent tragedyGrasping onto ridgesScratch marks created by a ghost
Procrastinate Man, your ass is late again? Not passionate about anything but being mad at him, Up till he passed on. Your dads gone… That man, he was my grandpa. Handsome…
Angel’s love was imperfect… but oh! The drug was so worth it. So good in fact, we had to fall apart. Still, our shards of glass would try to reattach... But the sides don’t match. So, we sat and watched our life collapse.
A mirror reflection of the inside Is what you left with when the skin dies. I’m not obsessed with death. I live life With the best intent. I get by. With the best intent I lift my chin
The force that pulls me away Can never break the chain that binds us Forcedto bring forth What was left behind us. The sun rose in our eyes, but still didn’t blind us From what we chose the night before.
Depression… I’m nauseous. Obsession… Over cautious. Learned my lesson… I’ve got this. Left with less and got the obvious. A fracture… it’s painful. Your stature reveals a vain full… Of poison.
How easy it is To dibble and dabble, To dribble and drool. For the honest man's answer Is usually this: "Anything I please." I may jive, and give jist
Many wonder why Self-Inflicted Inhibiting "sigh"I just couldn't deal with it all internal pain- in my weeping mind I couldn't take couldn't cry so I broke a mirror
Hit the floor running, that's what they say But there's only so far you can run In this bricked up place with these tiled floors filled with sickness, sad- ness, and sterilization. But that's why I'm here:
Even when the sky is black, And morning will not come, When the sky cries, And the earth dies, One foot after another, We will cary on, Even though you are dead and gone. Our eyes are empty,
I’ve been taking in ideas of what life should mean from nameless strangers I’ve never even met. I try to listen to what they have to say; I want to tuck it away into my soul and save it for you.
you are scraping at the ground with bloodied bare fingers, eyelids nailed shut and a staggering weight on your shoulders, your ankles chewed raw from every time you stood, raised a hand to your shredded neck,
Unfold the tapestry hurriedly at first, stretching quickly across the cool stone floor-- flatten the edges to show me where the figures crawl, walk, then run. Smooth the wrinkles slow, then.
I tried to find him in the woods and in the desert, in the sky and in the ocean, in the cave and on the mountain. The wind and water hummed with echoes of his voice.
Beloved, drink with me this light-drenched memory:
You are as stagnant as the waterfall painting in a waiting room. Internal turmoil redefining struggle as an infinite cosmic loop. They can smell the metals at work in your skin bonding with electric air
(poems go here) As I sit here in this desk, I wonder will I ever be used again. Will I be used as an example to keep this Negro pushing?
Your stolid expression Gazes over me like the sun. I felt the heat of your eyes--- Which penetrate into the deepest parts of my soul, Tearing though flesh and The carefully constructed walls of my heart.
If humans were animals and animals were humans, Maybe then we would understand their pain. Take a look into their eyes as they are put in cages filled with sadness and mistreatment,
What was the first thing you noticed about me? Did that observation ever make you think, ponder, wonder about me? I want to know where your roots are planted and where your leaves have fallen.
Skipping lines and skipping parts Do you know wherethebegginingstarts Feel the constant beating of your heart. Then all of a sudden. It falls apart
Just because my last name is Hussain it doesn't mean I kill Just because my last name is Hussain it doesn't mean I’m a terrorist Just because my last is Hussain it doesn't mean I’m related to Saddam
(poems go here) Corruption is the ever enduring mark of Humanity. Poisoning the populace with Cain's face for so long we think it is beautiful.
I watched you destroy your life I could’ve said something, I should’ve said something. But no, I said nothing… Did nothing. Instead I watched you throw it all away. You had a future ahead of you.
I may not be thin But I am still beautiful I may have some scars But I am still human I may be gay But I am not a whore I may believe differently than you but that doesn't make me stupid