LeahStorm - Hello Poetry

I don't **** people, That's not my style. The knife says I'm in denial, But blood isn't spewing from a human. I've got something huge brewing. With every drop of blood, I write another word. Red ink, Has access to me. Because scars Are just accessories. The knife says I'm in denial But it's blood With some vial.

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Oct 27, 2015

Oct 27, 2015 at 8:52 PM UTC

In denial

I don't **** people, That's not my style. The knife says I'm in denial, But blood isn't spewing from a human. I've got something huge brewing. With every drop of blood, I write another word. Red ink, Has access to me. Because scars Are just accessories. The knife says I'm in denial But it's blood With some vial.

16

God came down And touched the sky. Nobody told you that Angels could fly. And on the night That our savior died, There wasn't A dry eye. And now sitting in this room, It's apparent to me And apparent to you That nobody feels Like they used to. What should I write, And why do I cry? C'mon weary eyes, You don't have to lie. I'm taking this one on my own I hope you know it's a lonely road. As I cry alone, In this tiny home The voices tell me There's a party To - night. That I will Have To - fight. Waking up in the morning, It's a shock to me There's no blood left For me to see. Dried up ink And poetry lines. What should I write, And why do I cry? C'mon weary eyes You don't have to lie. I'm taking this one on my own I hope you know it's a lonely road.

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Aug 6, 2015

Aug 6, 2015 at 11:53 AM UTC

Weary Eyes

God came down And touched the sky. Nobody told you that Angels could fly. And on the night That our savior died, There wasn't A dry eye. And now sitting in this room, It's apparent to me And apparent to you That nobody feels Like they used to. What should I write, And why do I cry? C'mon weary eyes, You don't have to lie. I'm taking this one on my own I hope you know it's a lonely road. As I cry alone, In this tiny home The voices tell me There's a party To - night. That I will Have To - fight. Waking up in the morning, It's a shock to me There's no blood left For me to see. Dried up ink And poetry lines. What should I write, And why do I cry? C'mon weary eyes You don't have to lie. I'm taking this one on my own I hope you know it's a lonely road.

39

Fate isn't something alive, Although it's purely divine. As I write on these lines My metaphorical ink disappears. Apparently you can't keep it For years. When I was four years, I didn't wonder how I got here. I just lived in the moment, Striving to own it. Now I'm a poet, I can write my own worth. 'Cause you can't jump over a hearth, Without getting burned. The ashes are my soul Getting scorched over And over, Until I feel full; And ***** all my love, Which ends with me Getting squashed like a bug. Then a hug, With the saying "We can still be friends" Oh joy, I can't wait To see how This ends.

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Aug 5, 2015

Aug 5, 2015 at 6:06 PM UTC

Fate

Fate isn't something alive, Although it's purely divine. As I write on these lines My metaphorical ink disappears. Apparently you can't keep it For years. When I was four years, I didn't wonder how I got here. I just lived in the moment, Striving to own it. Now I'm a poet, I can write my own worth. 'Cause you can't jump over a hearth, Without getting burned. The ashes are my soul Getting scorched over And over, Until I feel full; And ***** all my love, Which ends with me Getting squashed like a bug. Then a hug, With the saying "We can still be friends" Oh joy, I can't wait To see how This ends.

27

The scariest thing About letting yourself go Is letting people know You're emotional. And when you cry every night And wish you would die, Where are they Telling you To hold on, Stay strong? No where. They are no where to be found. No, they don't make a sound. So when they come around In your glory days, They don't even Recognize your face. It's a shame to say They just want your fame. But they don't even know You're emotional. 'Cause you keep it in, So they don't win. But when That one person Comes along And sings you A song, Let them in Don't let them Move on.

0

Aug 5, 2015

Aug 5, 2015 at 2:07 PM UTC

Untitled

The scariest thing About letting yourself go Is letting people know You're emotional. And when you cry every night And wish you would die, Where are they Telling you To hold on, Stay strong? No where. They are no where to be found. No, they don't make a sound. So when they come around In your glory days, They don't even Recognize your face. It's a shame to say They just want your fame. But they don't even know You're emotional. 'Cause you keep it in, So they don't win. But when That one person Comes along And sings you A song, Let them in Don't let them Move on.

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