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Lost In My Own ConfusionThe sounds of my thoughts are racing through my head at a million miles an hour.
This is insanity.
I must be bat shit crazy to believe my OWN voice could be this loud.
Am I alone here? Am I going down alone?...
Where is everybody?
I'm so lost in my own confusion...
And it hurts. So. Much.
Am I alone?Is there something wrong with me?
Am I the only one?
Am I alone in this vast world beyond these four walls?
My bedroom is always so dark..
I like it that way, I think better.
But sometimes my thoughts get louder.
Too loud at times.
Until it seems like screaming in my head.
thoughts of hate, love, happiness, depression. And worst of all, confusion.
Am I the only one?
Is it possible that no one hears themselves screaming?
Am I alone?..
Slipping, slippingI'm slipping, slipping,
when will it end?
Minds racing into infinity.
He's slipping, slipping so far away..
Why do our paths collide and our presents fray?
Did I love him? Yeah
Do I love him? No
He changed. I changed.
And left my heart rearranged.
We crossed paths but that's about it.
The flame is blown out, the one he lit.
When You Left Your InitialYou can't break me.
You've tried, and failed.
You cried, and flailed,
Your arms at me.
And I hit you.
You piece of shit.
Why'd you try?
Thought I'd cry?
Guess you learned,
Reactions are earned.
Why can't you see?
You can't fuck with me.
Think you've outsmarted.
You're just retarded.
You piece of shit,
You through a fit,
Then got hit.
And cried like baby.
Please someone save me.
Why do you insist,
On hurting me.
You refuse to see.
My life isn't yours,
You can't do shit.
So do me a favor to spice up the flavor,
Forget me, forget you.
I must have a stutter,
If you dare still utter a word to me.
After so many years, I can see.
I see you're nothing,
But I'll be something.
I can kill for thrill.
Or torture and scorch her.
So many ways to pass the days.
Making you as miserable as me.
You made me this way.
You led me astray.
Used me and left me with the remains like an ashtray.
You might've forgotten,
But you left me rotten.
You made my
Take some time to appreciate your dogThey know nothing of life or death.
They know nothing of Macbeth.
They know nothing of the dangers.
They just know to attack strangers.
They have very simple minds.
They know of the essentials,
Food, Water,the safety of mankind, and Exercise.
They think they risk their lives protecting you,
From the mail man,
From strange Uncle Dan.
From other dogs,
and strangely enough,
Also from frogs.
Their point in life is to survive,
and make sure you do.
They need to thrive!
So they can protect you from that shoe.
I want to be remembered! I want to be remembered.
I want people to know what I can do.
I don't want my art to be dismembered.
I want every kind of person to choose!
To CHOOSE read my poems in isolation.
I don't want to use auto-tune,
For a bunch of attention.
That I simply don't want.
I want people to feel.
the emotion I put in.
I want them to learn.
What I alone, dealt with.
It really wasn't Easy, but i got through.
That's how I want to earn respect. For never giving in.
The day that i lay to rest, I want people to not be stressed.
I want them to look into grave at my funeral and say to themselves;
"She inspired me" "She was beautiful, inside and
This is my best-friend.
This is my best-friend.
I met her just a few years ago, and we hit it off right away. At first I was skeptical, I lost a lot of friends before. She didn't leave me when I was troubled, I told her all my secrets and she kept them. I don't think she realizes how much she's impacted my life, my art, my mind, whether she believes it or not, my family too. I love this girl beyond words. I wish I had a hundred of her. She's so unique and so beautiful and so inspiring and the best person anyone could ask for. I have trust issues but when I'm with her, everything spills out. And she listens, she doesn't interrupt me, or tell me I'm too dramatic. I was almost a lost cause until I met her. I was cutting and when I got to know her I just... stopped. We have so much in common and I don't keep anything from her (even the details of the weird dreams I refuse to accept even happen). She laughs at my jokes, even when they're not funny. She compliments me more than any ex-boyfriends. She's beautiful on
There's always someone there. There's always someone there.
Always someone who cares.
Someone that looks at you and sees what you don't.
You may know this person very well,
or just someone that picked you up when you fell.
They could be the one who taught you guitar.
Or just someone admiring from afar.
But whichever it may be,
just remember they care.
There's always someone who appreciates you.
always there to make sure you get through.
You Could Have Saved Her.You could have saved her.
she loved you.
Now she's in the back of the hearse.
Because you didn't try.
And you didn't cry.
you didn't hold her tight.
You didn't see her take flight.
She wanted you there.
But you were too scared.
Because you were supposed to keep your image.
The image that you don't care.
the truth about growing up
1. It's easier when you don't think.
1. It starts early,
on a cloudy day when you recall
the 'childhood memories' of
two summers ago,
that's when you start your backslide into
2. On the bright side
you won't notice this until you're
good and ripe in age,
so maybe it doesn't matter
3. That tightness in your chest?
The feeling that you're not ready
to take on the rest of your life; it
4. It stews in the pit of your stomach
makes you doubt,
but there will be days when you look back
on the mountains you climbed -
the raging rivers you crossed -
and you'll have a sneaking suspicion you were
more prepared than you thought.
5. There's nothing like your own bed.
6. Laundry will never smell right
without mom's sweat and tears.
But you still have to separate lights from darks,
keep the zippers pulled tight
and the buttons unhooked.
7. There is comfort in your parents' presence.
8. Things change
the future gnaws and rips
Stranger's funeralUnder the clouds
Under the rain
Staring at the coffin
At a stranger's funeral
We're all alone
Feeling the storm
But not the pain
For he's but a stranger
And the graves around us
Are just there
Keeping us company
During this empty moment
LullabyHush, my baby,
Be still, don't cry.
Lay with me
A little while.
Close your eyes,
Slow your breath.
Hear your heart
Inside your chest?
Your heart is strong,
It guides you well.
Be sure to listen
To what it tells.
I hear him now,
Outside the room.
It won't be long,
He'll find us soon.
Now close your eyes,
Slow your breath,
And rest your head
Upon my chest.
CarolineYou loved the fire
of rogues -
imperfect men who shot up
the endings of the day
and drank down
too much beauty.
And like one of them,
you bellied with rebellion,
felt his tense seed
toil where women
and craved his notoriety.
Poor girl -
his verses won the day
and the call of words
was too fickle a lover
for any constant star.
Don't blame yourself -
are more attractive
and all poets are
Darkest MoonI celebrate my right to live;
To the dismay of some, perhaps
It should be noted
These words I write, however true
Are only portions of the moon
I’ve decide to shine light upon.
But who am I to preach respect?
Who Am I to preach equality?
An advocate for re-personification
Of the female gender
But exhibits cannibalistic characteristics
Within dark spaces.
I am a shadow
Hidden within an Eggshell, painted pink,
Waiting to hatch.
Is the darkness
The night brought upon us.
things to tell you before i leave for collegeto mrs hatcher:
i promise that one day i will write that poem you asked me for
(the only thing you ever asked me for)
and i will finally tell you that you deserve
so much more.
to mr. walker:
i promise that i will not pity you.
i promise that i will not envy you.
i promise that you will always be part of my forget-me-nots and marigolds.
i promise to always be grateful.
i promise to be careful.
i promise to be crazy.
i promise that i will remember what it feels like to be needed
and what it feels like to let someone who needs you down.
i promise that i will never resent you for asking for help
and that i will always be there when you do.
i promise that even sixty years from now,
i will not be surprised to find a letter from you in my mailbox.
i promise to always remember what it felt like to be young and crazy with you,
how scared and lonely we were.
i will remember that we both survived it,
and that we'll survive this, too.
it was a broken sense of beautifulhis smile was like dust caught
in sunlight; more like a dreamy state
of being than reality, like the half-
remembered yesterday that still haunts your
memories because you
didn't want to forget how it
we'd lie on the floor with
slats of light shot across the ceiling, drinking
in the atmosphere
with windows propped open by
books and yellowed pages,
and by the time
we wandered into sleep, we were drunk instead
smell of roses --
he was a broken kind of beautiful, a
beautiful kind of flawed; love-letters, anonymous
and never sent littered
the dusty floorboards beneath his
of what we were before
love found it's way
back around; hours passed in a sunset haze
as my fingers ghosted over words
he'd written half-asleep, ink smudged on his fingers --
they say the music
comes when your heart's about to break, more
like a whimper than a bang; but i've
never heard a song so
sweet, and this sense of lovely has found it's home
inside my bones --
i wonder...Its like the longer you're alone,
The more society rejects you.
If I could go back,
If I could change,
If I could tell you,
How I feel.
The longer I'm away,
The more I wonder.
Do you miss me?
Do you remember my face?
The things you said you loved so much?
Do you remember me at all?
I wish I could get you out of my head,
Out of my dreams,
Out of my art...
But then again,
You're what's keeping me sane.
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