my name is
and i got
a C in psychology
and i am here
to try and
get over it.
i feel like
i have a big red
a big red C
on my forehead
and that my dad
i had a nightmare
that i couldn't get it off
no matter how hard i scrubbed
i am expecting
four more C's
to join it
on my cheeks
it's not that i'm not smart
i just didn't go to class
because i wanted to slice my wrists
not get out of
i wish you
In second grade,
My mom made me wear dresses everyday.
My mom would part my hair down the middle and make two long braids with colorful hair ties.
I would go to school and the boys would make fun of my dresses.
The boy that sat behind me would pull my braids anytime I said something smart.
In fourth grade,
I told my mom I could dress myself, but she still had to approve of every outfit.
I told my mom I was old enough to style my own hair.
I would go to school and the boys would make fun of my weight instead of my clothes.
The boy that sat behind me would sit next to me and call me names for being the stupid one in smart classes.
In seventh grade,
I told my mom that I didn't care what she thought.
I cut my long hair shoulder length.
I started wearing dark makeup.
The boys didn't make fun of my weight but they would ask me out as a joke.
The boy that sat behind me and then next to me, liked me and texted me every night saying how pretty I was.
In the ninth grade,
My mom wasn't awake to see what I wore to school.
I regretted the very day I decided to cut my hair.
The boys that called me fat; left me alone because they found someone bigger to pick on.
The boy that sat behind me asked me for a naked picture and I said no.
He called me a fat, ugly, prude and never talked to me again.
In the tenth grade,
My mom borrowed my clothes and I borrowed hers.
My hair fell out but I wanted it to grow.
Boys no longer call me fat because they never saw me eat.
And the boy that sat behind me wanted me back.
I cried myself to sleep and hid my wrists in my sleeve.
It's funny how many things changed since the second grade.
I saw a dapper hobo
In a brilliant red button up
Shiny white beard
Cracked-out Santa Claus
Picking through trash.
Lion heart, oh god I'm tearing myself apart.
I can help it, I'm ripping at the seams.
These teardrop windows, pouring down from the sky
are only escapes from my selfish dreams.
But there's too many vacancies.. oh darling
I feel oh so empty, so when the worry drops from my brain
I just go to sleep.
You know I used to feel so smart, I used to feel so strong,
but now I can't find the courage to get along.
my fingertips ache, and with every passing moment I hate,
the words that I have just sung. then I stare at the walls, until I can't see no more
as my feelings shift to a shaky blur. so I cry myself to sleep,
every day and every week,
just as the ones before
Why is the world around me shaking and trembling
However it seems its only me
Maybe I'm just in love with the idea of love the notion of having someone beside me
A Smokey mind an ether infecting my blood
While ghost tears cause me to feel my face and wonder if its the past or current state.
State of mind of heart, of time
In the end I'm just a cliche love heartbreak and wonder poem
A child robbed of her innocent soul
A tank of propane ready to blow
A girl trembling with doubt curled in a ball
Silently screaming inside
For I might not be beautiful or smart funny or charming adorable or perfect
Why can't anyone understand and look into who I might be
I am a shape-shifting demon
Morphing into what is wanted and ignoring who it really is
Answer honestly, I beg would you miss me?
Would you miss me if I fled?
Remember me if I was dead?
Forgotten easily I must be so i'll just cry and sing and fade into the darkness and disappear in the end
I don't mean to be down but these thoughts just come around.
Nighttime they seem to manifest and in no means digress adding to the stress
The Mind is a two way street causing one to abandon sleep
At 3am the universe enters your head
Since Everyone knows crying puts you to sleep
I'll commence to weep
After a day that ends a 5 day cycle for two days that leaves you with heartaches. The 5 day cycle that either you enjoy, or have a deep hatred for. It's the on and off relationship that you have been dreading since the day your parents forced you into it in exchange for a smart child that would never disappoint. Too bad for the parents though, the deals in the relationship have been long broken, so why not just end it because no couples therapy would fix the wounds in this relationship.
You open the door to a jumping dog that one of your sibling swill attend to when they come home, since you took the poor dog out in the morning enabling you to run late for school. Enabling the sassy math teacher that questions your every move to say "yes, please do disturb my class" though you came in as quietly as you could. Setting down all your belongings you take a deep breath, the room is cold. Not too cold, the wind leaves you with a nice spring breeze. You strip out your clothes but end up wearing a sweater because it's enough to prevent shivering. You curl up at the corner of your bed. Surrounding yourself with the quietness, except for the birds outside flying about singing their songs and dancing with their loves. Oh how you wish you were one of them.
You take out a book, lay down on a pillow, and read. Because loneliness doesn't always mean that you don't have company.
determined as i was
to avoid joining
the zombie revolution
my dad went and bought me
a new phone
looks like i was drafted in
to the "smart" generation
hopefully i won't end up as stupid.
some days the inside of your mind is the safest place to be
some days you feel trapped
sometimes you are so tired of wasting more energy on the wrong people
but the right ones are so far away from you
so near yet so far
and you want to reach out but you don't because you're afraid
because rejection are for the undesirable
and you know everything about being undesirable
and you don't like looking like a fool
because life is cruel to fools
you long for the world where everyone around you was smart and witty and fun
but that world spit you out long time ago
now you have to pretend to be entertained by tasteless jokes and mindless comments
from people who think in a different way
and you're so disgusted but all you can do is pretend and pretend and pretend
so the ones with shining eyes don't look your way
you pretend you're all fine and dandy
while you scream silently inside your head
and you're tired, so tired, always tired
Everyday of ninth grade
I know you worried about me
I know you wanted to steal all the knives and sharp things from the house
I know you wanted to call me and ask if I was alright at school
You didn't know about the touching
You didn't know about the harassment
And even though it hurt, I understand why you reacted the way you did
Because to have a daughter like me would be scary
If I'm sad, all I sometimes need is love from you
And even though you fuck up sometimes and make me cry
I still love you for trying to break the tension with a joke
I still love you for letting me sit in your lap even at 108 pounds
You do everything for me,
And when people tell me their mom is the best,
I know they can't know you
You are smart and beautiful and caring,
You work, even when people tell you it isn't right
That you should be home with me,
But I love you for working
And showing me that you can be everything
And accepting me no matter what I have to tell you
And even when I'm older, I will still feel all the joy in calling you "Mama"
What makes a person sexy or hot ?
Do you have to be popular or some "big shot"?
Do you have to have curves or do you have to be thin?
Do you have to smile with your teeth or just show a grin?
Do you have to have money or be a spoiled brat?
Can you eat normal food or only low-fat?
Do you get to be smart or pretend that you are not
In pictures, do you have to crinkle your eyebrows like you're deep in thought?
Do you have to have green, blue, or brown eyes?
Do you have to have dated a million guys?
Do you have to wear slutty clothes all the time?
Do you have to drunk drive or some other crime?
Do you have to plaster make up all over your face?
Do you have to let guys get to third base?
Do you have to do things you will regret?
Do you have to be a ginger, blonde, or brunette?
Why is being sexy or hot so important to us?
I really don't get why girls and guys make such a big fuss.