brooke-8Whisper

American

Sort

Sort

The Masks We Wear"How can I disappoint you tonight?," masked as, / "Come over." / Scene: a small bed in a quaint room with a jaded girl and her delusions of grandeur.

27

Jan 23, 2016

DirtA tale of two, of three, of four - / but focused just on one. / Sixteen years

50

Nov 24, 2014

The DeepUnderneath is a sea / Swimming with self doubt is a sure way to drown / Somewhere I can see the surface

29

May 17, 2014

FeelI can't remember the last time I touched your face / But I can feel your cheekbones digging into my mind like the feeling of taking a shovel / hollowing out my own grave to lie in

25

Jan 1, 2014

The ProfessionalIt took you 17 years to find your niche / you tried dancing, but they told you / your feet hit the ground too hard

17

Oct 23, 2013

A Beautiful MessI made a beautiful mess, my dear. / It seems as if I couldn't control myself / my words fell out of my mouth

22

Oct 21, 2013

I Think The World Of YouYou've kindly filled my world with listening, but only when you felt like it. Mostly you just wanted someone to listen to you. I needed a lot of listening and I'm really good at listening. Things are funny like that. Not funny in the way where I laughed when you would tell a joke or do an impression. But funny in the painful way like how everyone else could see it but you. Funny in the way that I tried and I tried and oh, how I tried. Nothing was more difficult than trying, so I gave up. I always thought you did too, but now I doubt you ever even tried at all. But I Still Think The World Of You. I'll always see something. Staring into eyes that never looked backed into mine was easy. I never had to worry about you noticing so I had a chance to absorb everything. I never knew what it was like to be ignored until you - I never actually cared. Each time you neglected me only gave me a chance to learn something new. I learned so much and yet I never learned enough. I Hope You Think The World Of Yourself. But even if you don't, know there is someone that does.

1

Oct 21, 2013

Being/Loving*On Being a Writer* / One must be prepared to live a lifetime of distortion. One must become accustomed to seeing through introspective lenses. / You see colors as words ready to be written. Yellow is a poem about the happiness you feel when he’s looking directly in your eyes. Blue is how it feels to be alone, staring at the wall currently portraying the world not readily available. Green says serenity and peace. Red says you care, perhaps too much for your own good. You see people as treasures. Each one represents more value to your life than any material possession. He is the golden doubloon that is precious to only you, you who values the rarity of an antique so finely in tune with everything you believe in. He is the cloud in the sky that is amorphous. He transforms for only you, you who understands the importance of change.

6

Aug 12, 2013

DaysDay 1 I became a flower. I like to imagine the most beautiful flower you'd ever seen. Perhaps it was real and perhaps it was created in the intricacies of your mind. Day 9 I became a friend, a person you knew but didn't know. Day 17 I became that thought in the back of your mind, making you wonder what you didn't want to. Day 25 I became the paper to your pen, there to take it all in when you believed no one else would. I still would. Day 34 I became more than a flower, more than a friend, more than a thought, more than paper. Day 47 I became a silent ending to a beautifully loud melody. Tuesday it started. Wednesday was bliss. Thursday departed. Friday, I missed. Saturday grew. Sunday, we'd grown. Monday was blue. Tuesday, I was alone. *Days and days passed that I can't get back.* Maybe I was rain. Maybe I was the sun. Maybe I was everything that just wouldn't stick. Days passed, and I became a migraine Tylenol couldn't fix.

1

Jul 29, 2013

YearsYears of becoming accustomed to the darkness has led you to believe that you have in fact become one with your surroundings. Surroundings that have provided you with a multitude of feelings and emotions so unknown it’s like living life with eyes and ears closed. Everything is exactly the same with only your skewed perspective altered to a healthier and more lightweight state of mind. The same tears fall down the same face but they don’t get too far – stopped short by a smile that’s taken far too long to appear. You stare at it for a bit. It’s a bit ironic, really. You’re so used to shunning the unfamiliar and yet you approach all these unfamiliar pleasant emotions with open arms, arms stronger than ever before. “This is your time.” You’ve been working towards this for far too long. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted and it’s right in front of you. You can taste it and you can see it and hear it and feel it and it’s delicious and colorful and glorious and triumphant and more than you ever could have even imagined. It will follow you around until you accept it. It will linger for years to come after you accept it. You may want to run from it because you’re scared and not quite sure how to deal with it, but good luck. It’s everything you were meant to be and it’s not going anywhere.

1

Jun 11, 2013

Hello PoetryVoting