"Paint me something
that reminds you of me."
what do i paint
when everything in my view
reminds me of you?
"You could paint me"
how could i paint something
with so much perfection-
not even your own reflection
can attain it's justice.
what do i paint
when everything i think, say, or do
reminds me of you?
where could i even begin
Perfection glided down the aisle: Tears streamed my beaming face.
I make a promise to myself
To avoid the past and think of tomorrow,
In the dusk the world is a bitter reddish hue,
Under this happy sky with people dying in war,
It's just what we need to make certain that
We will "make it through," with "endless" life,
But there is really no other way I'm told.
You who deface nature for yourselves alone,
Trash the earth we were given that keeps us alive,
Even then you eat off of plates of gold.
We are your fools who sit in the library,
Reading some important history about
"Non-essential" needs of love and
The glory of the way of tribes past.
Whatever I am saying-even this moment
I'm being laughed at far and wide.
I'm wrong! I'm stupid. Go ahead, say it.
We're going the right direction, leave no stone
Un-turned, let no animal in the woods hide!
You will still show me "perfection" in destruction
And death once I let you get inside my head,
If we are the future, it's already dead...
wrapped around each other closer than sheets to a bed
fuzz. eyelashes. teeth. soft skin.
you completely disarm me.
i will give you all my guns
just grab my limbs.
the way your legs get tangled in my anatomy like a sapling
that's eager to grow larger.
pelvic bones crashing together so perfectly clumsy.
you are my ocean. my beach. my sun, sky, and stars.
i have an unexplainable sadness hovering over me lately and people ask how i can be so sad when everything is good and perfect and i tell everyone that i don't know because that is the honest truth. im not sad because things aren't going my way or im lonely or people are mean or im short on money but rather sad because my flaws are so apparent and it's all that anyone sees anymore it's all i ever see any more and i worry i'm not good enough and i want to be hidden away in the comfort of someone's arms that doesn't see those things all the time but the trouble is that i can't spend days locked up in rooms with the few people that see no fault in me but that is exactly what i need to feel whole again
This is stupid
Every poet asks themselves,
"Am I really a poet?"
Every poet reflects on
their surroundings, their life,
Every poet has been sad
more than once
in a day.
We're all emotional,
we're all craving release,
an outlet to drain away
to give our feelings
a physical form.
But in this poem,
I want you to know something:
it's okay to not be okay,
it's okay to feel like shit,
it's okay to give up.
It's okay to give yourself to pain,
let go of your surroundings and
shrink into yourself.
It's okay to want to die.
Do you know why?
Once you understand this
and acknowledge it,
you are free to change.
You are free to pursue whatever
happiness you desire,
to give yourself to bliss
rather than to guilt.
It's okay to want things,
it's okay to feel undeserving
when you do.
It shows you're not stuck
in one place,
intentionally or not.
You are human,
forever changing and
You are still young and growing.
So make your mistakes while you
still feel the need.
you are not perfect.
You will never be perfect,
and that's okay.
Because if you were perfect,
it wouldn't be you.
She is my love song
She is my love song and rainbow parade
A walk in the woods and cool lemonade
Wonder and wisdom mystery and mayhem
Fantasy and pleasure calm and reason
Her sex is wild with perfect affection
Her touch is soothing, her kiss seduction
Balance, harmony and inspiration
A lady, a woman, a spot on creation
She is all the best this world can offer
She is a love song like no other
I’ve been writing an unending melody
About a woman whose countenance could set ships a-sailing
Just to crash on the shore at her feet
Porcelain skin, Eyes of jade, and hair of gold
The rival to Helen of troy, to be mine but were I more bold
A goddess of perfection sublime, in her absence the world is but gray
Her beauty must Venus abide and abhor to this very day
So now I’ve been plotting and scheming
I’ve got a ship set to sail in the harbor; at dawn we are leaving
To steal her away from a king and his land
And she’ll be mine if she’ll take my hand
Ten thousand women could never change my mind
A harem fit for a king’
Tender, supple, and kind,
Could never draw my hand nor heart from her embrace
I’d give to her all of my days for a chance but to relish her gaze
And now I’ve been plotting and scheming
I’ve got to have her for mine; and no, I won’t settle for dreaming.
So like a thief in the night I’ve come to steal her away
And she’ll be mine by the break of day
None of us are perfect by any means.
Why do we constantly fool ourselves trying to be?
You can hurt yourself trying to become someone that you're not.
Be proud enough to show your battle scars.
Be brave enough to wear your pain on your sleeves.
Become transparent with others, realize we all have struggles.
Whether it be with anxiety, depression or loneliness.
Believe me, you're not worthless.
Deep down, we're all too proud to admit we're a hot mess.
Poets can contest to this;
Since we stay up late, writing about everything we've suppressed.