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i wish summertime was more than just gentle breezes flowing through windows. a pool like an altar. no one to worship, though, where have you been.
I returned home from Atlantis with new armor and a new head — blades still sharp from the last stoning — feeling very nearly a tourist in my own land.
My aspirations were like grand constellations Plucking one dream after the next Then came the Big Bang of adolescence With every burning goal Came a larger person To put it out
Is there a point to all this? Some sense of release hidden behind years of Doubtful ventures into nothing. Can I outstretch these fastened wings, And search for some greater feeling,
There is race of little monsters, Their numbers are countless, And they live everywhere. They cannot be seen. They have no smell. They have no discernable form.
Shuck-Lily cuts herself and, by God, I'm back in love again, This is not my responsibility, So why am I tending to you like an animal?
You are 58 inches of unbridled fury. The chocolate stars that you use to look up at the people around you are riddled with dry tears.
The hold that you had found in my veins, was not found without warning. It was preceded by a feeling That weighed heavy in my chest.
There's that one word... It keeps me from succeeding... Failure. It's bound to happen, So why try to be Successful? I do nothing Because I won't win. I miss chances
always follow your ambitions even if you don't know where they may lead. chase your goals and grasp them in your hand like a rope that's pulling you into the life that you want.
[I] approach the tipping point the straw that broke [my] back. at a loss for words expression has no expression, is not an expression anymore. the way [I] feel when all the words - all the thoughts
Maybe it’s ‘cuz I don’t know, What to do or where to go. Maybe ‘cuz it’s hard to see How those I knew affected me. What do I share? What do I say, About the person who helped me change?
It feels like I'm falling, Down. It seems like I'm running, Out. I think I'm dying, Inside. My mind, It thinks, It speaks, and I believe. I wish it would go.
My heart beats fast, My breath sounds loudly, This is fear, In all it's forms, Fear, Will be your enemy, Gives you wings, Fear, It is such a simple concept, Fear is,
Open arms. Waiting. A rush of adrenaline, A shiver of anticipation, One. Two. Three. My throat feels dry as I swallow hard. Time seems to stand still. Fuzzy hands, fuzzy face.
A friend of mine asked me to write a poem about myself, and for the first time, I was left
Soft skinSupple curves A decent face Virginal purity Is this all i'm good for?
Ink splattered across my browHold the pen don't let it fallAll their stares part the crowd.Don't let them jump the wall
Personally, combining thesaurus with meter with soul Offers satisfaction of expression and communication and release— Emptying an ever-filling well-spring by waxing eloquent—
Wheels bearing stiffly on a frozen road,shoes clatter softly on fallen snow,a veil of black covers swollen eyes.
We stood like embers in the mist Smoldering within the waste Like waterfalls we drank our sins To follow gods to hell in haste
Dear Apollo, You are the God of so many things. You may have already noticed this, but I have too. I noticed you are the God of sunlight,
Dear Happiness, Please don't ever leave me. I wish to be hand-in-hand with you until the end. Continue to spread your wings and soar to unreachable heights. Dear Anxiety,
Drooping eyes struggling To catch one last glimpse of a Conscious, restless world
Wisps of pink streaked through A sky dominated by A glowing red sun
Drawing eyes is like creating my audience. My audience that so generously criticizes every one of my moves. My audience that doesn't dare to train their gaze off me.
These borders that divide us define our opportunities. Developing surrounds the developed. If it wasn't for these separations, could we all have equal opportunities?
Dear so-called family, You know who you are, We share the same father And the same type of blood. The last time we spoke Was during dad’s funeral, “Don’t worry” You said,
Lo mismo Un angel maldicho una prostituta debil un rey mudo una silla en medio del bosque un coche sin manejador
You are still my muse. When i don’t know what to write i turn to You. You are my fountain of youth; You replenish me. i’ll never forget what being in love with You felt like
my parents fell out of love screaming silently they never fought, it was only tight lipped smiles and white knuckles on coffee mugs not listening when the other spoke and finding away to disagree
Hello, I’m—different. I was in first grade when I knew I was different. Ironically, I knew I was different because all I did was hang out with girls.
Keep your head up princess When they look you up and down don't bother just walk on When they stop in their tracks its bc you're beautiful When they tell u that u don't match you say i know
I have devils in my pocket. Two little devils. They snag crumbs from my plate, They wait patiently outside the shower, They sit on my night stand as I sleep. Sometimes they are more noticable,
Finding someone who is caring, careful, conscientious is far more difficult than I’d like it to be.When I found you I felt at peace, I felt like the world finally had meaning, motive, mind.When I met you my anxiety emerged its way back out of the
her hair hangs loosely dark, curly, and beautiful no one else like her
it makes me mad to see how you don't care about how your children feel
The pulse meant you were alive,rocking back and forth, i cried last night,something about how difficult life was, saying we had the same conversation a million fucking times,
You come home and slowly close the door, The smile you had on slowly fades away, You stand there for a while, Unable to move, Unable to breathe, Suddenly you fall back, The door supports you,
37.1 trillion cells 23 pairs of chromosomes 46 chromosomes total 4 stories The pigment of my skin, a reminder of the humid city my family came from.
Today I fucked on a letter you wrote to me a long time ago What it means? I dont know. But you wrote about Our garden.
(Intro)why we gotta take it there Babe, you know I ain't tryna go there.what happened to us.
I entered into an unfamiliar room Didn’t know what to come of it. Leaving old friends behind Will always leave a wound Looking for the light
SOMETIMES I WONDER WHAT IT’S LIKE IN THAT MAN’S SHOES AND WHAT IT’S LIKE TO BE SO LOVED, AND UNAPOLOGETICALLY YOURSELF
Am I ready for you?The love you want to giveThe patience you have that's real.The touches I can already feel.Getting myself prepared for the thrillMakes me wanna already sign the deal.
I’m in love with the kilometres between us, I’m in love with the distanceBetween your eyes and my eyes and your arms and my arms and your place and mineI like that you like what I like and that I like what you like
Eyes heavy, body trembling, nightmares vast. She's harassed by the forecast of the past. Demons disguised in the form of lovers Until she discovered their true colors. She was used and abused,
i tried. that is all it's not enough for most. but i tried and that's just for me not for me to boast. i'm telling you -the void because I know you can't reply.
i don't think it was direct, the way i was told i was only meant for frills and ball gowns and vhs tapes i dreamt would leak into real life but i was still told, wasn't i
Do you remember? How we used to play pretend? And giggle and laugh Until the day's end? Do you remember? The many adventures we took Together as partners, With every step, the earth shook
Ick Ick IckPick Pick PickTrich Trich Trich.So here's my sob story.November 2006, was when I hit the trich...No, 2007.When you came into my life, after my grandma and dad went to heaven
every year for as long as i can remember my mom has tried to grow a rose bush. key word tried.
One: When I was three years old I told everyone I knew that I was an alien from Pluto. I was born as a daughter of Pluto. I crawled my way out of the dust I was conceived in.
Through the morning clouds they fall, These tiny cannon balls. They hit the ground and puddle and muddle the noises with a huddled pitter patter sound.
Trapped. I'm trapped. Unable to move Unable to think Unable Helpless as the tide washes over And I feel like my skin is on fire My body hurts Every step sends electricy
The world I live in grows dimmer each dayOver time my sight just fades awayAs blindness moves in I take a step backKnowing that darkness is on the attackBut will it be so bad to live like this
till the limbs can't breathe stepping, always continuing time is freely yours the sights before you make it worth the sky is beneath vibrations make waves, joy happiness is for thee
The pain and agony you feel Oh I know it's all so real I've been there just like you Feeling like you can't push through
I was pathetic.I was lost.I wasn’t me anymore…. because of you. I would indulge in..I would desperately seek.I would want…. alcohol because of you.
From youth, I knew not all plants grow -- Some are cut at the roots, Some sprout of row, And some never see the light of day And feel the rain on their leaves And the sun on their cheeks
There were three of you that broke my heart: Uno, Dos, and Tre.
My first taste of freedom was in dorm Locked up indoors previously my norm Naively thinking I could live anew Yet wasted was my time being spent indoors My heart wants change but my mind loudly snores
Get out of the path of the king! The galactic siren sounds, and wails off the walls and down the hall. It is his gentrification, his royalty, his vehemence Pounding his fists like a verocious animal
A door A door with chips in the paint, reminded me much of 2016. A year full of dread, for me, that is. The knob shined as bright as a newborn star, representing the new year that was yet to come.
When mistakes are made and all hope is gone,When you're no longer seen with trust anymore,The school year, tonight, is said and done,All opportunities have closed their door.
Still and silent I float in the deep blue, the ocean is my master and I its slave. Heels, check. Face, check. Glasses – better leave those here – check.
Hello! I am new to this and this is my first poem. The grammar isn't perfect and I'm not sure if this was the best way to set it out but please give me feedback on what you think :-)
We broke a lot of things last year Just to build something new; Something that grew my fear It wasn’t supposed to be like this. We broke a friendship last year Just to rekindle an old one;
I am a cookie cutter Sharp edges and commonplace Useless on my own I am a cookie cutter Brown bright eyes as a college freshman
12 months, 52 weeks, 365 days, this is how much time ive spent growing all this time was spent knowing who I am, what I want to achieve and what I want to be a year can seem so vast a year can seem so fast
There are cracks in the sidewalk that represent my life;A broken home;A broken family;Needing something to mold to.I've become the flower sprouting throughThat people tend to walk upon.
I've seen through my eyes, A world laid out before me. A world that's experienced a year of growth, A year of pain, A year of change. A lot can happen in a year, The discovery of a new hobby,
Music is my lifeblood It’s everything I am My soul is made of music notes My heartbeat is a drum My ears are full of melodies
She grows up She's not the same as she was first born she grew bigger than I had imagined She's more taller and has a beautiful stance whenever she aligns her feet underneath the doorway of my room
Appreciated, Accepted, Assuaged--all things that signify respect, and yetwe are left with copious amounts of Belittlement, Bias, Brokenness.Individuality is SADISTICALLY strangled.
Hazelnut danced in her eyes Honeysuckle kissed her lips Hibiscus sprung from her cheeks While curves blessed her hips Shes as witty as they come Driven and spontaneous
“yeah, I used to get panic attacks myself.” my ease surprises me. I’m relaxed, not like the calm before a storm when havoc is about to wreak. just calm. no storm.
I wish I was still afraid of the dark. that I didn’t know what rests in swirling cloaks of black, that I didn’t remember where the hard hip of the kitchen counter was, or the swinging dress in the doorway.
Early and late this past school year, I could not say why life was good. Until summer came, as it should, And brought with it purpose and cheer! A summer course for those like me,
Captivating is what I aim to be, Stealing your breath with just one look at me. Magnetic, intoxicating, and exemplary. Raw is what I aim to be,
Shoveling driveways, my ligaments at risk of a deep freeze, I earn my worth.Saving money, temptations of Pinterest, I earn my worth.Studying units, sleep deprivation clawing at the backs of my eyelids, I earn my worth.Building a GPA, drowning in a
I should never have written poetry for you. I respect that you care for yourself, But I hate that you never learned how to care for others.
Always have open eyes to the world around you And open ears to the sounds that surround you But if it is negative thoughts or words being said Dont let them in for they will surely drown you
I use to have stuffLots of stuff Stuff that I woreproudlyStuff that I carried around in my pocket stuffStuff that I woundplace in placesamong other stuffto be seenby others who probably had theirown stuff I really lovedmy stuff Now I can not ev
My boat drifts away from the dock I sit and watch my dreams die. How do I say, “it is okay, you have a plan.” You do have a plan, right? The boat drifts to the horizon, my stomach drifts with it.
i breathe. my throat is tight from too much singing and the anxiety that follows my audition -the look in my teacher's eyes is not responsive when the last note resonates
I hate this.
I saw the stars in your eyes--and I also watched them burn out. You showed me a whole other universe, and I got lost in it.
The fulgent naked stars pore over me; down they stare from beneath their nebulous blankets in the early hours of the morning when all the world is asleep-- all but them and me.
My Ars Poetica: A Different Kind of Animal Nothing turns a stomach like the rancid aura that cradles the furry carcass of a life that once was.
Time rushes by as I sit here, All around me the world is constantly expanding Shifting and shrinking, Lives are changing, Milestones, Tragedies and Miracles are passing by And here I sit, Still,
Poetry is the words The words I can't say The words I just don't speak They won't come out But the paper and pen They see the words The ink will stain my skin The way the words
Make me look, because I don't want to. Make me see it, because I don't want to. But it's there. Its staring me in the face, and I can't take it anymore. Hate. Thats it.
In verse, I found a meaning. In meaning, I found an essence. Through words and verse, through lines and meaning, I lived. Expression became the force that tied me to the ground while
Poetry is smudging my hand on paper. 3 AM writing sessions. The smell of the paper as I put my heart onto it. Poetry is falling in love with the right man. Leaving little notes on his desk.
On my way out the door, I tiptoe Making certain the only sounds to be heard Are the low hum of the crickets And the faint buffeting of the wind over soft grass
Five, Seven, Five. Who knew these numbers would be my drive. All I had known a poem to be was words with rhyme and rhythem so free. A childs game was all it became. Oh see and observe.
I write because: It gives me a reason to breathe.Gives me a reason to close my eyes, release the words scratching at the insides of my cheeks.With trembling fists, I'm able to spill each and every drop of bad blood onto a clean, white sheet of loo
I am a woman of weakness.<br> I will never believe that <br> I can succeed at anything<br> And because I know<br> I am a failure and a waste like people say<br> I just don't understand how<br> I can be brave and
You tripped into my lifewith a pen behind one ear,just looking for some new skinto write on.I hear it’s easierto write your lyrics outon someone else’s wrists,feeling your soulspilled
All come into the world in the same way We spend nine months in warm darkness Then when it is time we are cast away Into the cold bright sharpness
12.23.15 Who I am, I forgot. What I know, I just thought. Where I belong, I have sought. When I lie, I get caught. Why I live, I know not.
4.07.16 He left me in March buried beneath the dirt. The showers poured in April and cleaned away the hurt. I will blossom in May, for this is my rebirth.
Painfully shy, an introvert, without many friends A child of divorce, found salvation with a pen Black and blue world, smudged ink on her hands Wrote herself a ticket to faraway dreamlands
My peers look at me. They expect to see something that I simply am not. They want to see a good girl. Who has it all going on. Grades. Body. A strive for excellence.
I was only fourteen when everyone around me started to grow up, For they were passing themselves off as if they were twenty-one, Spending their Friday nights drowning their veins in alcohol,
Distant I look back at you fondly I have loved and hated you We been apart for so long I thought I missed you but I didn’t
You leaving, changed me. It sounds like the wind rustling through the trees. It smells like the air after a long rain. It tastes like strawberry licorice.
If only it were light That you desperately needed, But it's not. I'd light up your world So you'd have to spin around And rethink it all--again But the tragedy is You're gone
Her touch saves And her heart cries Though she'll silence it For their sake She doesn't chase the wake Emotions fragile like a kid Squinting for the trip wire Closes her eyes till it goes away
i cant let this break me. i cant let this stop me from being who i want to be. i have to keep moving forward even if my heart is stabbing my chest like sharp pieces of glass. i have to pull myself along even if my lungs are filled with fire.
At first glance, I swore I became blind By the sight of dazzling, And flawless, lovely perfection Of musical movement that swayed My adolescent blue eyes. At first glance,
If the world was on its last day Would you take your hand in mine? We can step back and watch life play Before our eyes like a movie If the world’s disapproving We can forget it all
Sexuality is a complex concept. If I got specific about my sexual and romantic orientation, The most accurate way to describe my preferences would be:
She wore it to his funeral, But it’s also the aura of her soul. It’s murder in cold blood; she stabbed him 27 times. It’s the colour of hearts breaking apart, The colour of death and imperfection.
Little girl sits in her room terrified, “The monsters in my head won’t leave me be…” “Go away, go away,” she softly cried. “I can’t close my eyes ‘cause they’re all I see.”
People mistake my sadness for poetry, But what they don’t realize is, It’s just my soul bursting from me. My mistakes, My heartaches, My life, My strife. I write them all out,
Across the scarlet horizon she stares, Her motivation gone, she no longer cares. Closer and closer to the edge she creeps, “He doesn’t love me. He doesn’t want me,” is all she speaks.
“Can we be friends?” he asked. “Sure.” She lied. (I just wanted more…) “Are you okay?” he asked. “I’m fine.” She lied. (I’m dying on the inside…) “I’m always here for you.” He said.
Your eyes used to shine with the stars, Like constellations in the night. Now they flicker with uncertainty, Dimness… Like a firefly slowly dying, Losing its spark. What used to be, isn’t.
You’re a fragile spirit, afraid to leave the grave of which you were laid to rest. Metaphorically, of course… Flowers used to grow in your veins and now they’ve long withered away and died.
In English class, predictably, The teacher told us patiently About the forms of poetry And how to write them well. Entranced by artful imagery I read them quite ecstatically
Through the years my heart had been stifled The childhood songbird lost its voice And the feathers of its wings were plucked Until all that was left was withered
You’ve changed.That’s what they keep telling me. You’ve… changed. Of course,you’re right.I’m not thevulnerable,young girlI used to be.
We've been taught to hide behind prose So that no matter what the words say nobody truly knows What's going through our heads Ever hour until we finally turn in to our beds.
some people strike oil when they dig deep for me it was words each time a drill bit hit me, bored a hole in my soul with unkind words, unwant, I wrote, to have some form of pain that
It’s not depression It’s not suicidal It’s not anxiety Because I tell myself It’s not Others have it worse
My mind is a labyrinth of riddles and mistakes And stories my heart yearns to share. My mouth is numb and stiff, A silent machete destroying the tangles of my brain,
Poetry and I, We are inseparable. We are long lost friends Who found each other Inside cracks of foaming hate And melting sorrow. Poetry and I, We are connected by truth.
i remember what it felt liketo feel. when red was aheart, still beating,and blue was your eyes,not the color of the wavesholding me under,pushing me under,helpless.
With the flow of angry fighting words, I take my final stand Soaring brighter ever higher in the fire of my own hands My great song will not diminish in this whirl of wonder when
I hate myself
I have nothing to say that has not already been said. This exact sentence in this exact way has already been formed. I cannot be clever the way you ask me to because clever is a cliché. Clever shadows cutthroat.
Roses are red, violets are blue, I wish I had as much privilege™ as you. I wish I could get away with being As generic, As white, As male, And as ignorant and original™
Walk the walk Without it, I can’t. Talk the talk Without it, I shan’t. We all have one. Actually, two!
You are a child, and darkness is all you know. All you have in this world are the earth's teeth that you cling to in your sleep, and a candle on your bedside.
All I need is peace, a place for my demons to rest peacefully. No more fighting no more ripping myself a part. All I need is happiness, to be able to look in a mirror and not feel disgusted
All I need Is a sweet summer breeze A melody singing in my head A beat flowing through my body Lyrics both clean and naughty Neverending even in bed A rhythm flows through me
My Identity The one thing I can’t live without is my identity. It tells me who I am and where I go.
I am not solitary. I require the love of others, as do we all to be happy. I need occasional attention; I need encouragement; I need to be reassured, and hugged, and appreciated.
And here I stand, With my mind and me To orchestrate my ability. I can count the sand Or analyze the land. Anything I see, Belongs to Me. Because the mind that moves the hand
When I was three years old, And admittedly, not yet very bold, I was given a pink Powerpuff Girls pillow by my parents to hold, It would give me magic powers too I was told,
Wherever I may go I know where I have been. My grandfather, has lost this. For everything he sees, he does not remember. Memories make us who we are. Without them, we are a lost cause.
i had a dream about you again i looked you in the eyes and said 'sorry i still think about you' you always lived so intensely and i admired it (thanks to my ignorance)
"I love you Grandma!" I said hugging her knees Little me knew her value even then Her warm hugs Her white hair Her eyes that squinted when she smiled That nose that every Ramsay shares
Think harder and you'll notice all the things I hate about you; the way you talk as if everything is so important; the way you act as though your words are rich
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?
I have procrastinated on many things, including my delivery day. I was the expected 2nd birth, but the unexpected 3rd child.
Economics is the study of choice. When partaking in economics, one of the main problems is sustaining the wants and needs of a society. Because we face the problem of scarcity,
I woke up craving you. What is really new? I love you, But do you really love me too? Or is that just more lies that I believe when looking into those pretty hazel eyes.
There’s something about bold font That stands out from the normal lettering subconsciously hollering within one’s head Because it all started with a young boy entering junior high,
Pull me into your chest. Cover me with your body and I will forget all the reasons I have to run We will sleep through the sunrise
I remember every day that we would spend together. I let it get the best of me cause I can still feel your hands hold mine when you were scared. The tone of your voice when you'd cry on the phone. Your swelled eyes when you'd stare at me.
Days like todayMore ordinary than the lastmake my veins achemy knees wobblemy ribs rattle I am shaken into existenceInto a reality of unnecessary expectationsof inevitable failure
Men are supposed to love you.Hold your hand and tell you that you are pretty. He said I was beautiful when he held me by the throat and tried to slip my innocence into his back pocket.The words rolling off his tongue caught my skin like a zipper a
I’m a machine, [whirring] A robot in disguise, An impostor walking through the world. Seeing, learning, recording, But never truly being. [Click. Click. Click.]
The chill hurtles towards you Slicing your body Dissolving you into nothing but hard, hard ice It strips you off everything you have ever had And leaves you with nothing but Black gloves of ice on your hands
You may think this isn’t needed And it probably isn’t But I’ll say it anyway I’m sorry
any attempt to useone word to describe mewould be as hopeless asfinding a waterfall in a desertalthough if i was to truly tryi think i'd start withdynamicwith a tendency to connect
I am the puzzle piece one that doesn't quite fit with the rest. I am the white crayon trapped in a box that no one will let free. I am a kite on a stormy wet day sitting in a corner.
One The first is always the hardest. You have to push yourself into it. Cutting into innocence, cutting into your soul. At first it stings but soon it subsides and you crave the lingering feeling of control.
Dear Younger Me Life will not be easy Be Prepared Be ready You’ll go through it all. From death, to depression
For all intents and purposes, I am a mess, Like a child's finger painting is art, And like a child, I'm a little too confident To be meandering around like I know Where I'm going
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 keep going because I believe The only thing on my mind is to achieve Even when I fall down I pick myself off the ground Consantly push when things get rough And try to make myself mentally tough
Inspired by the skies and the sunshine, You're perfect in my eyes. I'm obsessed with Your words the beautiful melody of Your voice, I hear you all day.. clouding my thoughts Memory of you?
Will it take for me to become a martyr words for you understand my craft? To die before my time; leaving behind a casket lined with the pages of my life The explanation of my sacrifice
You tell me I’m nothing You tell me I am worthless That I have no talent That no one really loves me That they’re lying to me
On the first day of kindergarten music class, i cried because the teacher asked me to sing ‘my name is rachel’ and i thought it sounded dumb.
I am enough. Despite what society tells me, in terms of beauty and body and being, I am enough. Even though traditional values say my skin’s too dark,
To define means to give the exact meaning or to be in perfect cla
There was a time when I wanted to be alone little voices in my head said you don't need anyone because no one needs you Those words were all I could hear
For everyday I wake and for every step I make, a trail of emotions follow Tears turn into one of those everyday things You're used to all day and all night It eventually turns into a river in seconds
Time of my years; ante meridium jazz, red eye souvenirs, reflections to convey what has. Count now, all of your cheers teeming out, but soon they'll be known as the copious regrets and tears.
Facebook Request Like Message Hey Flirt Date Butterflies Flirt Date Calls Kisses Deep conversations
From week to week and day to day I’m one who never knows quite what to say. When typing a paper or composing a text It’s not hard; I know just what is next, But when I’m surrounded by enemies and friends
Wake up everyday. Get dressed everday. Go to school everyday. Hide everyday. I was young, Innocent, Naive. It happened to me. I didn't know it was wrong.
I am a mess of emotions, They flow from me so freely. I am a mess of sadness, Sometimes I don’t want to move. I am a brave woman Who fights for others. I am bravery.
Some people have told me I am extraordinary. I've never liked that word.
I am strong so many obstacles have tried to get me to do wrong , yet I remained resilient I know I can be brilliant because I picked my head up through it all don’t you want to hear, y’all?
I Am Paint splashed onto weary walls That have stood over centuries of the normal person. Spots of color to prove I am different Than the rest Splotches that don't blend in With the rest
I am a survivor One of many Same story different writing So how am I unique? I could go on and on I am a survivor of domestic violence I had Daddy Issues
I. I am fascinated by numbers I have an affinity for numbers. I have written him 71 pages of poems. 14675 words and counting 2462 stanzas 3241 lines mounting. Upon each other like
What if you could step into my sh
I am madness,
Gone Like the warmth leaves you as you slide out of bed in the morning Like the bad taste goes away as you brush your teeth Like the circles under your eyes fade as you cake them with concealer Gone, gone
Kat The one with paint on her arms, with purple in her raven black hair. The one with a pencil behind her ear, a sketchbook in her hand, a glint in her eye Hazel eyes, that is, framed in intense blackness.
Goodbye because this isn’t working
I should have broken up with youthe
Depression, grabbing you by the throat and chaining you to your bed.
Identity is naught but illusion. It is fragile and fluid and fleeting. It encompasses a heart’s brief beating, And vastly differs among everyone. Identity is seen in name and face,
I am from a tiny house
I am my own two cents. When I hit the ground runnin' the devil says, "Oh shit!" Never bite my tongue while I'm chasing the setting sun. Because it ain't over 'til I say its done. I am my biggest enemy.
I listen to the wind under the trees
I received a phone call from my father Explaining that it was all too real And all too sudden This man he spoke of did not sound like the uncle, his brother I knew
Butterflies. Could they exist without it? What about flowers? What about days and nights? What about sunsets? Sunrises? Rainbows? Stories? Songs? You? What about you? Could you exist without it?
Today I went through my poems and threw out everything I ever wrote about you Yesterday, I would have cried
I am not sure
When people say "the real world" What they mean is: Taxes, Unfulfilling marriages, Bitchy soccer moms, Desk jobs. I don't want their "real world." I'll make my world.
A facade. Gold plated, short lived.
I'd appreciate not being lied to Or made a fool of. I'd have sch joy, I'd pick all theflowers and plant them where rivers had fell down my cheeks. I'd share a dance with the rain
My wrists are clear but my head is not Everyone seems so proud But I still hate myself I have so many If the things I wanted The things that make me happy And yet I'm already empty
Why? Why do we need our eyes?
Take a deep breath. Inhale through your nose, 1 2 3 4 seconds, lungs filling with air, fit to burst Hold it, waiting for the drop, then breath out, air whistling through your lips, But silently, careful not to draw eyes.
Midwest farm raised Sweet honeysuckle by the fence-line
poring over texts at 3am wondering about what wasn't said but more importantly the things you said with hidden, truer meanings now you're asleep and it's too late to ask
I am a phoenix Watch me burn Been waitng all this tme to grasp my own rebirth Stand up from the ashes letting the weight of the world fall from my grace It's time to go
You were a warmth
'you're like the leslie knope of gift giving' she said, and i took it to heart depression makes it so you constantly wonder why why people like you why people bother with you why you have friends why
She who runs. There are those who run. The murderers, the politicians, the Omelas. There are many who run. The lost, the purpose driven, the gifted. But.
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
Who am I? The everlasting question, the one everyone has asked since the beginnig of time. I ask myself every time I feel lost. Every time I am alone. I am not the only one.
I still dont know what it was when I fiirst saw you You were different from the other guys I seen before I was wondering where you been all my life
Why? Why me Lord? I always asked that same questions, nothing more nothing less. I have a confession. I am not happy. I am not, was not happy with myself and was not happy with my life.
My parched mind searches far and wide,
First thing's first I smirk instead of smile This is who I am with #NoFilter The latter done only once in a while When I laugh by cause of my mister Fond of all that is medicinal
She is me I am her How much more simple could it be? Dyed brown hair
I'm the moon, not the star. I'm more natural, Normal. I do not amaze, not everyday. I leave you breathless on November afternoons when you see me through
I felt comfortable, still, and ready While I sat with my mind set and steady.
I am smiling too wide, I am looking too directly at the photo lens Click. Click. I tilt my head just a little bit further and I will feel pretty Click. Click. Too bright. Delete. Too shiny. Delete
veined ovals lean against the hose with small puddles, guests: though one more a guest than the other towards that end, and treading amongst the surface she plays the Body living, breathing spinning
I feel most alive on the US-15 with my mother, my father, and my puppy.
Will you please help me with this puzzle teach me how to kickbox
Maybe there was never just one reason I fell in love with you Maybe it was a hundred little things -
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 am closing walls and open doors, A memory painted on the windows of your soul In any color you like, as long as it is a shade of black. I am discontinuous, a broken mirror
I travel by train and I look out My window, my legs are too close to the grey-man beside me Headphones in, power chords, progressions I am progressing, and my knees Need a shave; they catch on the silk of his suit.
My mind is whirling a million miles an hour,
I wanted them to see me as art to stand in awe and marvel at the thought that such beauty existed but i am not a monet i am not a picasso and as they realized that
Let Me Be By Raquel Gonzalez There’s a world around me
I’m not sure what I am feeling.
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 guess I like the way the cigarette Finishes the length of my arm Fingers curled up In a soothing smile I won’t be scared at night I won’t ever have to be alone Killing me softly I give in
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?
She came to me Eyes filled with tear and she began to confine to me, She said "I fell in love with him because i thought he was best for me, looking at the entire world in an illusion
Sadness does not come in the form of rainstorms Here to kiss away the tears off of one's face It is not the color of the blackest night
I hope I forget your eyes And that I couldn't look way. I hope I forget your smile Because it makes me wish you'd stay. I hope I never call you When its late and I can't sleep.
The mightiest sin I ever committed
Rolling out of bed Thoughts clouding my head Wishing I could take back the things that i've said Don't remind me of the cold stares, At times I cant regonize the person in the mirror
Rolling out of bed Thoughts clouding my head Wishing I could take back the things that i've said Don't remind me of the cold stares, At times I cant regonize the person in the mirror
My hair won’t fall right. My socks don’t match. This jacket’s too tight. These jeans need a patch. My bag isn’t Michael Kors. My shirt’s not Ralph Lauren. I can’t afford designer stores.
What have I learned about heartbreak?
Poison Slowly spreading through my veins Silently killing No one can see my pain I have to shake it off, fight the feeling Find the antidote Seek my healing
I can still recall the same sentence,
I am not comfortable with who I am,
Everyone is different, I, just a little more than anyone else. To me, I am lost insecure hopeless scared To my family lacking imperfect perfect
A person faces a challenge everyday some are small and fade away
I feel, I get cut, I bleed but not of blood,
#nofliter Why must we put a label on a picture that has nothing but a fake smile and good lighting? Because behind the raised eyebrows and the plastered grin on our face
Hi, my name is “no one” That’s who they say I am
She walks in with a smile that can light up the night
A brighter future for the world and not just for me-
I may be a pawn But you are not my queen
Feelings for him are always the same why does it have to be like this.
HAHA No Filter Haha Pure face Haha Hidden disgust Haha Beautiful lies Haha Look at my face haha. . my laugh is weird. . haha. . I'm just kinda queer
I am Light Freckled face Green eyes Wavy hair I am
I'm a human first so decide on me now than later
Who am I? How the hell can I tell someone who I am, when I do not even know who I am.
You gotta start with need. A whole lot of need. Needing comfort, needing love, needing attention, needing support, needing guidance.
The patter of the rain was unbearable.
Impressive in your eyes I seem, but more Impressive yet are you who believe in my life so vague, filtered to exclude the truth. My anxious fingers produce
Hairy Armpits “Just wax, or shave, or pluck that hair.” Don’t you see I really don’t care? “Oh my god that’s so gross, ew!” They don’t bother me, why does it bother you?
What I'm saying is coming from the heart.
It’s been 10 months and today someone said
My viewers are facing What they know they see, They say they see, They think they see. But it's just the casing I know they see, I would say they see.
Intoxication by substance,Abuse is a common word inA user's dictionary: vocabulary,Mundane feelings of pain,Take it all away.
Tell me why more than fifty percent of us live in the shadows.
Though we have similar tastes, Interests, and humour, it doesn't make us for each other. Despite what others may say, we have markedly different dreams, Desires, aspirations. The things we look for
Waking up, staying up, worry through my mind I wanted to find a way to have a bond of some kind. I didn't need to be different, you needed to change I woke up that day, with a thought so strange.
The true me? Well there's a mystery. Even I, myself find trouble to congregate my thoughts. Maybe that is me-a plethora of lost thoughts? Microscopic thoughts. Dots.
When the sky is clear and the sun is out Your eyes are bright and bluer than blue. And when the sky is dark and grey So are your eyes And so is your mood And that's just how it is with you.
I talk but no one hears me I listen but am not listened to I am hiding in plain sight
The road ahead doesn't’t have a fork in it
Fumbling fingers, grasping a pen and paper
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
A sorrowful painter never shows their work, wrapped in memories, connecting words unspoken.// Aching with attention, craving another stroke of the brush, gently gliding over rough canvases.// Leaking misery the paint drips, along with your
You are quickly blinded by light, as your ears are blasted by noise. It even dazzles during the night, and captures you in its joys'. The city never sleeps, as Frank Sinatra once said.
Smiling, laughing, eternally cheery Why can't anyone hear my screaming? Showing the world my best face Make sure that the mask stays
Sweet flower, oh so delicate Awaiting to bloom, within the first week of November To have something to give thanks for The beautiful flower that is to come
"Alone, alone, alone..." The phrase that plagues my mind day in and day out... Yet it rings true about who I really am. I am alone. Feeling ever so distant;
She who seem sad,
I was teeming with sorrows I couldnt see to tomorrow I Couldn't envision a life that could be possibly harder Now Lookin back I see All the false pity
There is no rhyme scheme here. There is no melody to the song. No place where I belong. I bleed here. I love here I die here
We exist helplessly, acting how we want to be. Pursuing this endeavor, to become something better. Moral fall behind us, money for the poisonous. Trading lust for love, dazed by what's above.
focus focus focus wasting time in a book mind escaping once again focus focus focus
In a world where we work until we die what’s in store for you and i? only the rich, smart, and strong will survive what does it mean to be alive? to go down swinging to run the street singing
Is it wrong that i want to observe everything you do? just simply watch you, and breath in every quirk and restlessness of your being sometimes you absent mindedly jitter your leg
Little hands so cold and frail against the snow, they seem pale then the numbness comes as senses fail
I’ve come to realize, i’ve been living in my own lies. Fully submerged, head beneath the surface living my daily life without a purpose i was a hypocrite to my own speech “chin up buttercup” i’d always preach
Is there anything out there for me? in a world of billions, what does it take to do something useful? to do something great? i barely even know who i am or who i could be.
Laced with excitement and terror a fabrication of a dead dream drowned out by the demands the expectations how they cripple our creations
Blue paint drips from her sneakers, dancing along to purple rain she covers the scratches the scrapes from her crown of thorns. senseless noise fills her head, his calling is heard as a whisper
With your eyes like the sea and your heart crashing waves you blend flawlessly with every perfection surrounding i would do anything to keep from losing you, out there among the salty breeze.
Don't try to hold me For I am broken glass Don't try to... Please, I beg you For everyone who holds me They will bleed And bleed And bleed 'til they're empty
Today I am tired Of being everything. Friend, sister, lover, student, teacher Stretches a little to thin But I'll never complain I'll even off you a smile Because its not about me
Young in a glass mixtures of old souls,
Intelligent, Confident, Brave, and Beautiful, four words that I thought never lived in my identity, look behind those words and you'll see their opposites,
Who am I? A question subject to everyday society. Nothing more. One that thinks for the better And acts for a cause. Concealment… Unnecessary. Life kept justified if otherwise
I am a spectacle, a one-woman circus, a lion on a leash. I have always been caught somewhere between dare devil and professional, but when it comes to speeding down this road called life,
I scream, I cry. I barely know how I will survive. Through trust and love, You should be fine, But not when dark souls Have the key to your mind.
What lies within?
Tea on a Sunday evening Two young girls hide behind their words their illustrations small talk eludes dark realities too afraid to address the monster in the closet
my mind has several jobs right now, working in three positions, looking at the past, stationed in the present and plannin to be promoted in the future, I'm drunk,
What if every word had a cost? And you paid in in full Every 'and' 'a' 'the' Cost you part of yourself We would be a bit less careless, wouldn't we? Hopefully Probably
There are broken things in this world Things torn assunder by apposing forces And in the end Someone, somewhere, always wants to fix it No matter how small Or how large There's a smiling human
it goes like this: the clock reads 7:06am cloudy skies, morning mist on the window i am swallowed by silence clod toes, cold nose, cold heart the coffee warms my throat, warms my toes,
I got an attitude,Attitude with God,Maybe I’m not supposed to say that,Maybe I’m always supposed to call on his name and give him praise,
I can't take this any more
Like a flood you came crashing through my walls. Giving me all the hope and optimism one should feel with love. You let your waters damage my insides, leaving stains and broken pictures in it's wake.
What do you see inside? This pretty face, a painted disguise
I am a secret solider I fight the battles no one sees
There used to be many curtains shielding me from what I thougt I wanted to be it too me a while to realize that lies would not make me who other people wanted to see
It’s not for attention, it’s not for respect. It’s for me, I need to speak my silence I am tired of hiding how I feel, You constantly think you know, But honestly I just need to heal All on my own.
Misbuttoned shirts make great cutting boards. A woodshop is best manned by undone zippers. A garden tended by forgotten belt loops flourishes. An unkempt beard produced this dream for other razor-cut and softly rounded faces. Too heavy earrin
I am not how I used to be all mean and cruel. If you see me today you wouldn’t believe I’ve changed. I would say, Hello how have things been? And you would probably just look at me and expect the same old thing.
I have been made free.Free from all of the things that once binded me. It is the beautiful saving work of Jesus.The grace that He poured out when he hung on a tree and died for us. No longer a slave to the old.
My heart swells when I read something that reminds me of you. I've kissed so many boys that my lips have turned blue. But I can not stop imagining what it would be like to kiss you.
She smiles every day, So no one asks a question. She cracks jokes with friends, To distract from the truth. She tries to keep a mask, Over her reality. To conceal her emotions,
Some say that the strogest magic of all is true loveand while it's true that love is powerful,It is also true that without one thing, it has no power.That 'one thing' is hope.
Sit in front of me and hear my eyes scream your name.. watch the pupils beat ceaselessly out of the frame.. Follow my mind and see where it runs-where it leads.. right back to your heart is where it always pleads..
I turned my head in a feeble attempt to ignore the bleeding pen.
I write for no one except me. I write for no one because they see Pain and distress in the words I speak. They don’t see the beauty. Instead they stiff letters peak Up with a different voice,
You are a picture.
I write for you, the girl with the rosary in her hands The miraculous medal around her neck. Come closer so that you may see all I have written for you. Of pure love and true affection
Mom. The constant fighting. The nights up until 3 in the morning cleaning up after you. Picking you up off the floor. The names you would call me. The days I missed school. The nights I had to have Dad pick me up.
I hide because I'm scared of meof how weak I might actually beI'm not so pure, and fair of skinbut I act like that's who I've beenas a child I was raised "white"Even though my skin isn't light
The anger burning when I hear your name
there are some who will say
Instead of playing house I used to play home.From the age of four I never questioned the perfectionof the woman in white that hung near my bed
Fact: His lips were soft They tasted like nothing Fact: His hands were big They left no impression on my skin Fact:
Promises Truths Actions I give you my heart Don't let it go
I told him to move on Don't wait for me, I don't want you to, He said I'll wait for you forever, I can't ask you to do that, Be happy, live your life,
I am from the east coast, Where bipolar weather meets A world of Americanized-Cameroonians. I am from a family built on love and respect.
I’ll admit, I’m selfish I have a greed for things that I don’t have The list of things I want fills encyclopedias Dictionary-sized lengths of words telling of my desires I can’t write it all out without aching
I’ve heard so many poems, songs, stories about body parts Almost every single bit of a human’s makeup has been the focal point of works Ribs, spines, eyes, mouth
It started with me running My feet hitting the ground with purpose in every step My toes touching grass and my legs never tiring I was moving
Dear girl with the sharpies and sewing needles It’s been a while, hasn’t it? You’ve grown up a bit, haven’t you? Since the last time I saw you finish something you started
Can a broken person truly help broken people or is that merely a fictional facade we blind ourselves with so that we may feel more security within ourselves?
As I come into the age of majority The world becomes both lucid and murky In the recesses of my mind. I am faced with a crippling melancholy that no amount of serotonin could Ever counteract.
Conservative flifloppers tackle warmth, Declining hugs and scratching their heads. Are you mad? Directly checkering and victimizing isolated grasshoppers. Gone AWOL, walk to the bus,
We're all fucking alone and I hate being reminded of it. Leave me And then come back showing me pictures and videos of you without me. Leave me And then never reply to my
When I watch you thoughts calculating like an abacus thinking, examining an unknown world and classifying it as "lost" I cry. When I watch you lips pursed like a padlock
Love can be a chore-My heart is made of steal
Don’t breathe, talk or blink, just stare. Though my mind tries to grasp the words to make sense of this, all that comes to me is a sound, and I feel as if I may pass out.
It’s like a cave: large and unknown, with the potential to hold a world of my own creation; and yet it remains empty,
I am here where you are not. I am trapped in a singular frame of mind With pressing thoughts of lonliness and yearing That never seem to dissapate. The more that I revert to leaving you behind,
If my love for you could be written into words or defined by actions Then the moon will fall and the sun will turn cold as that has more of a chance of happening than I do with you.
The gold c
I've learned many things In the eighteen years of my life, Many of them being rather disconcerting. Perhaps to you, But not so much to me.
I know its cliche but...
My life has been hidden by a set of horizontal blinds.
The wind screams … the leaves dance … my hair claws at my face. No. that’s not right, it can't be I'd rather it be your hand, in mine; The tropical breeze grazing our skin and the moon shines high above us.
I’m 15 and I dread waking up e
High School, Not The End But The 13eginning I remember
I've cried I cry So much that they have stained my skin I've spoken I scream Either way, you still haven't heard me I've heard I listen And you keep saying the same thing
My childhood was spent outside.
I could sever my hands at the wrists without feeling any pain.
Not because your fingers don’t twitch as you shove them in your pockets, hungry under the nails for my skin.
If there ever was enough to give, I would give it to you. If there ever was enough ways to show I would show, I woud show you my truth. My love for you is so alive it would never die. you take my breath away, you make my heart skip a beat.
I was told that without the mane I carriedI wasn’t a lion anymoreJust a sheep.
They know your hair color and they know your height They know you don't like fish and that you won't eat squid They see you read a romantic novel and that it made you smile
Motivation, it's what keeps us going, How do we keep motivated in a world that's never slowing? Our goals are too important to let go of that sight, Our focus will help us reach a future so bright
As a baby, I laid and cried in my crib Observing the sunlight peering through my window
It had been only once. She had been much younger. Much more foolish. Her heart desired him, And, for a few short hours, His heart wanted her. The moment ended And both went away.
I am from destruction, Destroyed emotions and abandoned kids. I am from dirt soup, Long summer days Soaking in the sun, Playing in the lawns, Finding my friends. I am from books,
It’s 3 in the morning and I am awake. Not because I have insomnia or I’m feeling a little sick. I am awake because there is a pounding. A pounding in the back of my head
A lot of monsters roll my way;It’s really hard to make them go away.
Am I a role model? / A question I ask myself/ A past life of blunts and bottles/ New life, new thoughts, new self/ Pondering what goals in life are mine/ Is this me or someone else/
What Would You Change Scholarship Slam How could the world be so cold? Yet we act so naive, People are out in the streets, Waiting to be retrieved.
There are pieces of me that that get lost sometimes,
What I see in the mirror is no longer my reflection, But a creation of my internal hell. She stares at me and glares at me
Don’t try to tell me I am not a number Second born First daughter Number 17 on the little league soccer team Fourth in rank in my classes
If I had the power to change things I would not change much Just the direction of my feet When the ground is hard and Laden with a cobbled facade I would change the sound of a tragedy
The leaves on the treesFall every autumnIf they can fallWhy can't I? I'm drifting downwardsAway from youIf someone doesn't snatch meI'll be gone.
6:50 pm The end was soon. Anticipation overwhelming the mind. People pass, Unfeeling to the time ticking on. 7:00 pm Minutes disguised as hours. Unconvincing as they slugged on,
Smoke another cigarette to take you away
In the midst of pain is when I seek you I want You in my life with everything I do
I may have made a mistake Jumping into battles I wasn’t ready for Pain shoots through my body; aches The blink of an eye and I had hit the floor
I am from far and distant places From views of far beyond perception I am from ramose, and for phratry Raised by words of no deception
Have you ever wanted to write a poem for someone because having a normal conversation just doesn’t work for you?
I can't tell the difference between my dreams and reality anymore Everyday I wake up and yet I'm never really here I find myself living within the parallels of a world that loved me unconditionally
I've gotten so used to the rain that I hardly feel it anymore It's liek a friend giving sweet, sweet caresses Letting me know everything is all right The cobble stone sidewalks that trip me on my walk remind me
They were used to me being girly Fat. Insecure. Sensitive. I dreamed to be a thin designer that put others under the control of my charms of my domesticity A cook, a designer, a wife.
What if today was the first and last time you met me? Would you be able to have a conversation with me? Would you be able to look past my complexion and my intonation? Never once looking at the span of my hips
bands and bangles
Lift me from the abyss I have plummeted. I'm falling and I've lost my rope. Take away my agony as I begin to choke. What I thought was water was really glass.
With the desire to know she is heard,
“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt.” What a load of shit this is. Clearly, the people who spew this phrase have never faced daggers of words, have they?
In equal amounts each year It is this we must fear- For a day cannot expire without it;
Once, a boy goaded on by his friends yelled “BORDERHOPPER” in my face. (I must have a very large stride, then, to have hopped the Pacific Ocean.) To be fair, it was middle school.
To be recognized One must have something to be recognized forAnd I, Well, I have nothingI have the world to walk uponBut it is not mine
my heart was a vesselthat I did not know how to sailso I let it drift on
absence does not
I have been a block of clay all my life, Reshaped into whatever anybody wanted. I have been modeled into every shape and form In order to fit certain molds. Mom and Dad shaped me
I look into your face as I describe The project I put hours into I paint a picture for you Of the reaction from my classmates When I pointed out that there are examples In our own culture
It pains me to feel like I'm the outcast... Even if I am.
Who am I? Who am I? I know that I am not you but more than this is true Here is a riddle just for you, so here is what you do— Read this passage and guess to see who this person just might be.
Whenever I'm lonely, I go see my best, true friend. She's only home during the night, though I miss her throughout the day.
Life can spur. Love can be found. A memory can be made. Spontaneous laughs will happen. A surprise kiss. A wonderful dream. But tears will fall. Hearts will be broken.
Two cultures live within me
After everything i went through so far in the new year, 2014, I've decided to leave to Ecuador for the next month. After going through attempted suicide, hospitalization, the pysch ward, therapy, trying to find myself back into life, and such; i
I will write. I will write even if my hands bleed, Even if there's no one to read. I will write even if my fingers break, Even if there's nothing to create.
A little blonde girlshe stepped onto a plaine and away with her family she went Away from her friendsand her comforts and carefreeswith her ponitailed hair all unkempt
Many people say if i did not do anything wrong to someone who is mad at me i do not have to apologize.
There is no time for us, watching the clock on the wall, waiting for something to happen, for excitement, encouragemet, and motivation, but nothing happens, just the sound of the clock ticking,
There's a little black box with a little brown brush And endless colored paint for an impossibly white wall. Holding my brush, I stare at the wall,
THIS BOOK WAS BOUGHT WITH LOVE IN MIND, THOUGH PERHAPS NOT THE KIND YOU WERE LOOKING FOR AT THE TIME THOSE DAYS ARE LONG GONE & SO IS THE PERSON YOU WERE WHEN THEY WERE HERE GOOD RIDDANCE!
Mind racing 100 meters a second Back to the old days when I set the record Straight, that is, the path I ran Though none of it was my own plan Forced to run, but no where to hide
A familiar numbness creeps over my soul. I feel nothing. But at the same time, I feel everything. I feel the weight of guilt, the pain of losing a friend,
I’m from Monopoly From the Game of Life. I’m from Sister, Sister From the world of CatDog. Games and fun is where I’m from. I’m from the sweet sound of summer glistening on the pool
What happens to your soul when you die? Does it fly away into a distant place?
Why can’t I find a love, be loved, give love as pure as White Velvet?
Sometimes I wish that the sun never set-
why cant I be drowned in darkness
When I go to sleep its like i enter this world
God is my strength when I am weak He is my hope when my world is shattered
We find ways to make it. We are stronger than we think. Most believe they will break So they give up at the brink. It is when you are near the end. Do most quit,
As a child you’d like to believe you could trust the world to be Everything you’d want it to be Such innocence in seeing life in an easier point of view Nothing sugar-coated Just straight forward
Ding, ding, ding, ding, Car key turns off,
Where I’m From By: Kaleigh Kelso (Imitation poem from George Ella Lynon) I’m from the ultimate mixed family From half sisters, step sisters, and adopted brothers
What is the idea that started this all? The one that broke the glass?
Shit you can’t say to your teacher? It should be titled Shit I Should Say Math teachers working out polynomial equations and over exaggerated problems of how Bill bought twenty-three hundred apples;
I've always wondered what goes on in other people's minds I've always wondered where life is going to take me I've always wanted to know why everything happens for a reason
Yeah, I may be “pocket-sized,” But just you wait and see. In a couple of years you’ll look up, To find me as a giant tree. Or maybe I’m just stuck like this: Heredity’s little treat,
I never would have put you through this, If I knew how much misery it'd bring. Did I simply persuade you amiss? Or did the mockingbird falsely sing? Don't refuse your true feelings; I can be your guide.
Now that the West coast is calling: Where are you going? Now that you are simply stalling: Where are you going? You pack your bags to up and leave,
In unorthodox verses with a poetic tongue, And my vibrant fingers crossed, I’ll trigger the gun – A formation of words, so to speak I shall say, Will combine with saliva, for a delicate play.
Withering walls with chipped paint, Alone here I sit and wait. Abandonment flooding like sealed doom, As if enclosed inside a tomb, Enraptures me with morbid haste; Energy drained and lost in space.
With your touch I just might shatter— Into a million pieces I can’t put back together. My porcelain skin shivers at the mere thought— How could something so beautiful be so flawed?
I found lovein all sorts of places.I could coax it into appearingeven when a heart was withanother,though those weightswill never drop.I found it in the dog-eared pages
Sometimes i pretend to be someone famousi wake up like them and dress like them,i slip into their skin and it’s okay.
I come from a small island People here get comfortable, They know their neighbors, They fish, They hunt, They pass down stories for generations, School isn’t always important.
What is time? By definition its an indefinite continued progress of existance But is there even such a thing? We measure time with numbers, But there are no numbers in the sky, on our bodies
In 1776 something important happened. On October 25 2012 I could tell everything about it, but the test is over I can't remember anything about it now. Molecules are important
People on the screen don't exisit anymore All that's there are explosions and products to buy And this makes me burn. The screen has become a bible more or else, it's what society bases it's joys and pains on.
You're the best thing that has ever happened to me I would do anything for you You treat me with respect And you care about my feelings You're the best thing to ever happen to me And I couldn't be happier
Love is passion. Love is attraction. Love is devotion. Love is a notion that people care for people other than themselves. Love is small. Love is big. Love is humble.
cliche butterfliesin my stomach turn intomoths when our love dies
A rose sat within my heart Closed off from the world. It dare not show a single petal In fear it would wither away. So it stayed in my heart, Encased in a throne of thorns.
Strange noises you hear in the dark, Distorted perception in your mind, The tightening of the chest, well can you even breathe? Breathe, because you still can. Close
I’m the girl they call goodie goody Goodie goody? I think not! Goodie goody my ass! I’m the quite girl who sits in the front of the class room, answers questions when asked
They say to write a list of what you're grateful for.They say it will make you happy. I say there's more to it than that.I say writing isn't the answer--learning is.
I have no culture, No background, No heirlooms; I have no memories Of the deceased, Of the forgotten. I have some pictures, Some drawings, Some presents, That doesn't mean
I am from houses, From old neighborhoods and drenched cities I am from tablets used for drawings Colorful, amusing Clean stroked lines I am from movies nights and eating out
Sadness is strong a feeling Sadness is a weary feeling, It comes and feels like it won’t go away. Sadness is a heavy feeling.
Look at me, what do you see? A picture of average nationality, American girls in picture books. Come here, come closer and take a look! All you see: brown hair, blue eyes, Coming in at five foot five!
One day, twenty four hours.One thousand, one hundred and fortyStrikes of a little hand.It becomes forty three thousand, two hundred ticksAnd just as many tocks.The numbers are baffling to me,
One may look and say, You look like a angel, But like mirrors that hit a ray, Your life is one big tangle. The mask you wear, Make people say AYE, But what’s not shown there,
10 digits to never call again To never text To never press send 10 less headaches 10 less tears shed 10 digits not to think about lying in bed 10 less arguments Yeah, 10 less laughes
Hollow is the heart inside my chest,so still- it beats.It aches,with unquenchable desire,pounding slowly, slowly, slowly.
Sometimes he's full of sin, Other times he's speaking sacred, As the…
In elementary school, I was told: To look both ways before crossing the street, Do not run with scissors Don't cheat in hide and seek. Friends are forever, And secrets are kept discreet.
I wonder what made me this way, to who I am today Because when I'm looking at old pictures of me, I seemed so happy, I see how my brown eyes were full of this sparkle and I wonder to death
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
Sometimes my body is colder than ice, I forget to breath twice in the moment. Lighter than sand and heavier than bricks, My body can only take so much of this ish. Darker than black, madder than mad,
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,
Life has Something, Something to fill it. This Something will fill it to the brim. It will also stretch life to the longest it can be, Without, of course, making it thin you see.
Want By: Kamaria Campbell Big, beautiful, warm, and wet from his tongue Slowly gliding along the surface leaving behind a trail of saliva
Driving into town to see him lie, To see him in peace and to say goodbye, Sunnyside is not so sunny. Standing in a lush green field, Dressed in black with tears that refuse to yield,
Burn my name from your heart And forget me, like I was never there Melt my tears that froze on your cheek On that winter day I cried for you With eyes like fire and words sharp as ice
The sun went down, but I'm still here. There's still a tube inside me. My dinner tray is in the sink. The whiteboard says my name. The thermostat reads "55"-- that's something
standing among the ashes of your life can you justify all the fires you setall the bridges you burnedall the hearts shatteredall the people you broke standing in front of the cracked glass
I want to be kissed! But not just kissed... I want to be kissed because I’m me! Not just because I’m some girl. I don’t want to have to think And think and think and rethink
I tell the time by trees. I tell the time in threes. Three by threes from trees. Three by three by three. Time in trees to three by threes. We pass our time in trees. We pass our time in threes.
To the man that I call my father,I know how you feel,I don't mean to put you out there,but some of us are in fear. Many more are like you,hopefully these words will help you hear, normal people
Sick, Tired, and Drowsy Are the only feelings I feel Not a child, yet not quite an adult Still unable to express me Nothing has felt real May be it's my fault Coerce into thinking college is the key
I used to steal everything All my jewelry and perfume But you can’t steal from a coffee shop So that’s where all my money went I knew a girl who took fire to her arms
I am from limp white laces of worn-down, battered "It's time to throw these away" kind-of-shoes, from the midmorning naps, timed with the daily occurrence of watching the evening 6 o'clock news.
Where's the good in goodbye Because when it's said My chest feels soo empty That it just might collapse But that's okay Because I can't breathe anyway When I see you around With her
Each morning, the white sun rises over Jasper Street. It peeks over the maple trees, it hides from cloud to cloud,
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
Another pass over the bigger city to the south makes me wonder about all the absence in the night; the pitch-blackest part that the eye can’t see.
The music that sings within me doesn’t ring as loudly now I hold on to pieces as my heart falls to the ground But, time heals all wounds right? I thought that could be true… What do they do with people like me,
To express in prose Is the work of a poet For any fellow may give a rose But few a sonnet I cannot fathom which I love most, The romance of chasing a muse Or the art of drawing with words
I write to let you know How I feel How I miss you How I resent what happened I write to let people hear The eloquence of vowels The harshness of consonants
I don't want artificial, I don't want cheap. Raw and pure, real and sweet. I don't want half-hearted, I don't want unrequited. I want you all, or not at all.
You don't know my pain. I cry myself to sleep, most nights. I sit up many times worrying myself silly. I feel like I'm in a hole, I just seem to sink deeper. Everytime I climb out, something seems to go wrong.
How has not the whole world falledIn love with such a beauty?Are we, star crossed lovers, called?I to be with a cutie? * Nightingales sing half as sweetAs you, my bird, do so speak.No.
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
You say you’re invested but you look far from interested You say you care, but your presence is never there For you I am a matter of convenience But you consume my entire existence
I write to take away the pain That memories can bring I write to offer up my thoughts To anyone or thing I write to express anger and fear In ways I can’t with voice
Crisp,clear,oceans deep. Stir within me feelings. Open my soul,bare myself to you,make feelings brand new. Sapphiresin the night sky.
I gotta couple questions, please answer them honestly. Because this stuff is gettting old with you, her, & me. So how does it feel knowing you've broken me down? Because everyone knows in our hometown.
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,
Jacob dreams of ladders Two roads diverge Nothing really matters But please, dont let it hurt Up ahead Down the road Gods and Angels Make their toasts Down below
God had walked away from me that rainy afternoon I do not know why A dark fate awaited me Punishment for girls who walk alone and disobey Reward for Men who drive around looking for their prey
I want to be a savage The only question is how? Be fierce Violent Uncontrolled Be a sort of animal A force of nature A part of a regarded people Primitive Uncivilized
I write a poem; a verse; a page in my diary, To calm this fire and rage. Cause there is no soul I trust to let the air out. I listen to those music; to those rain drops falling;
I was born here I came from there My body is here My soul is there My words are here My thoughts are there My feet walk here My mind runs there My bones lay here
To you I am invisibleA translucent tragedyGrasping onto ridgesScratch marks created by a ghost
Blank screens and empty lines,Meaningless phrases typed outAgain andAgain and Again.While my mind is dull myHeart is screaming!Black silk dripping from scratches,
I think it started With a fleeting glance. I had to capture, somehow, This moment in time provoking A fluttering of my heart. Then it became My mode of voice, Of choice.
Day by day The realities of life gets hard Too much pressure To be the best of who you are. Endless thoughts scatter my mind, As I lay here, contemplating about my life.
I lost my Journal and didn't know what to think. I looked for it everywhere but thought maybe someday it will randomly appear. I cleaned my room. I cleaned my car. I even cleaned spaces in the house where I thought it could be.
Cravings. Blood lust swooning for you through the blue of my veins, blushing under my skin.
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,
I was just a kid you know back in middle schoolNever thought poetry or any of that shit would end up being what I doBut it isNow I’m stuck refreshing Rhymezone.com and trying to figure out
Being born in a black box The room’s dark and cold There’s a world outside You know of a better world But it’s beyond your reach You can see it, everyone else One day, there’s a door
Bruised, unripe; I lay, weeping, imperfect and alone, the toy missing wheels. An unattained dream, fantasy, and hope, still sealed with putrid rubber cement.
Wrapped up in a blanket of truth; snug, warm, happy. Dowsed in fresh memories. Longing for a friend who cannot be found.
It hurts me, more than it hurts you Seeing the pain in your eyes makes me want to die I will never understand it, but I’ll do my best and try But I guess if nothing was said, I really didn’t know you at all
why do i write so many ask so often why write? why you? why at all? i try ferverently to describe the itching in my fingers as i reach for the keys or the pen and the aching in my heart
I write because Actions can never completely suffice. We are to control ourselves But there is a war raging within me.
Life is such a scary thing One minute its complete and total bliss But the next its full of despair There is no way of knowing why or when It will all come to an end Loved ones are lost
and then there they were standing a few steps apart. a moment of silence and little conversation in a span of 24 hours a lot was said through body language, gestures, and spoken words.
You go to turn down a road But a voice tells you differently You look and you wonder Not sure of whom it could be Ignoring the voice, you take a step And tell the voice, “Leave me be”
A lost answer It doesn’t matter where it comes from Or why it’s lost in the first place But you search I search We all search For a lost answer We spend our lives chasing something
Back pressed against metal Sick blue light kissed my skin, breathless The heavy solemn clockwork of your heart pulsed beneath my palm I dreaded the 8 AM departure that would ruin it all
I’ve been in constant contradiction since I was 17 years old, do I run away from everything? or do just what I’m told?
Why write something down When it’s simplier to say it, speak it, shout it, tell the world? Why write something down When it can be erased, burned away, tarnished, or torn to shreds? Why write something down, at all?
I'm trying… and no one is helping me. no one even realizes how close the blade is to my wrist. no one gets it. not even me.
Is it true? Is that really what you think of me? Who I am Is not your problem Who I will be Is not your business Who I was Is all you can see? ‘Cause that’s me That is what I want
Concatenated words transcend the boundaries of what is factual causing you to question the actual, but I'm not a poet.
Tragedy always on my mind; Calamity enfolds all who come around. Dagger in my back and It remains unknown to me who stationed it there. I have a story to tell but Not many hang ‘round here to listen.
Have you ever breathed life In to a few letters, So artfully They jumped off The paper?
Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder/ Or at least that's what I told her/ When I hold her, I wanna mold her not scold her/ Give her cold chills, never the cold shoulder/
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
Sun shining through the trees, Breaking light onto me, Feeling the warmth set me free.
Her eyes are blue and peaceful like the ocean Her smile is rare but shows up every once in a while Her heart is full of love and care for others and not herself And her happiness is always seen with a smile
You play a part While I fall apart Under the weather, now... Under the weather, now... And I beg you please for some room just to breathe under the weather now... under the weather now...
From empty thoughts of i do’s, lake front houses, and promises that never follow through, to feeling numb, paralyzed by fantasies with who, I always seem to look right through.
I took the time off to think. Think about how life would be if I went back to the past and did things differently. Sometimes I feel like maybe life would be better if I wasn't here. Suicidal thoughts? Never!
(poems go here) Drops of rain falling in the lake only here for a ripple Did it resonate? open your mind's eye let it flow, let it grow let it go and then you'll find within the secrets lie, the truth that you will find
how do you find how far you can run? run 'til you fall. but what if, on the final stretch when you can almost see the finish line something comes up from behind and pushes you. sends you flying.
Behold the beauty in your eyes, And sing me this lullaby. We dissapear into the night, To find dreams in our eyes. She gained it all, And we lost the trust. Forever I'm gone,
I am not me I am a figment a figment of your imagination I am not me I am a reflection a reflection of you I am not me and yet I am
Do you want to know how I feel? There are butterflies swarming around my stomach at all times of my existence. My bones shake and my heart rate goes through the roof.
When you became a man you knew what you had to do. However it was a choice, I had no say. The day you left sure was a hard one. I remember waking up before the sun
I used to wonder if the undersides of Clouds got sad because they could never see the bright and shining sun-- and then it would rain.
It starts off slow with a Capital letter, For your birth is a big mark in someone's calender. You move from stage to stage, Just like any other- A common letter in the alphabet of life...
And Kermit the Frog said It’s not easy being green Well being black isn’t easy either I don’t blend in with the grass and the leaves But I stand out in seas of ivory Sometimes I get stares of disgust
On the outside I'm strong But on the inside I'm in Hell I make subtle cries But no one who notices will help
(poems go here) On the outside I'm strong But on the inside I'm in Hell I make subtle cries But no one who notices will help
In the mirror I stand alone My lifelong purpose still unknown My image drowning in a sea Of things I cannot be It rises up and stares at me As if she knew me inside-out It taunts my self esteem
Speaking subtle lies and myths with a slipping of my lisp; these words slide off the tongue like sipping slews of scotch and Smirnoff. But constant non-stop pronouncing of sounds as though I always
It takes real eyes to realize the real life I used to see blind until I realized the real lies I lived in a utopia where love was our core But that’s when I was four, now the thought is nevermore
no hand outs used because none were ever given, I mean I can't say I wouldn't have accepted if a hand was ever risen, but none were so, why consider, when they didn't
Inhale...exhale. And then there's nothing. That same nothing that lies within our awkward silences. That same nothing that keeps our defenses up. The same nothing that was there
I look around and everywhere I see, Happy couples looking back at me Why cant I be happy as they seem to be Instead I have to put on a fake smile for everyone to see, And believe that there is nothing wrong with me
Eyes speak no lies, unlike the lips in falsely upturned lines curved like spiders weaving truth out of a script from the mind; it lies Those eyes reveal sadness
Music is my life, it helps me sleep at night it gets me up and high unto sky, it gives me courage, when I sing in the choir at church, I burst into flames of happiness, and
no one knows me for my home is the ocean i lay beneath the waves and ontop of dreams i have nobody to call me, for i am free
no one knows me for my home is the ocean i lay beneath the waves and on top of dreams i have nobody to call me, for i am free
A dove descends from deep in my heart, Never to see this world fall apart. Leaving me here vulnerable and weak, As I watched the blood of my scars streak.
Love (n): a profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person. 1. You made me realize that love is more than fairy tale bullshit. Sometimes a princess isn’t waiting for a prince.
Who truly owns me? Is it my mind or my soul? Or society?
Who truly owns me? Is it my mind or my soul? Or society?
Pretty girls sashay in their pink skirts Long hair flows Like water where the sidewalks burn. Ruby lips, Masquerade faces Dolls with hearts of plastic.
I sat in my dirty, gray pickup truck parked under the shade of an old oak choked by ivy, smoking cigarettes before work. The warmth that late winter day, like a long desired kiss from a childhood crush.