PollutedHeart
" Save me a cake!" She orders, walking out the door. Her friend follows her, confused. / " You mean a slice of cake?" He asks. / She turns and gives him and intense look. / " No. An entire cake." / / True to his word, when Angelina got home, an entire chocolate cake sat at the table. She smiles. " Good Boy." / (( Thats it. My life. No, its not, I'll change it later.))
They tell me to feel better
But never tell me how.
They tell me just wait till your older
But I want to live life now.
They tell me kids can't love
And I am sure its true
But if this feeling is not love
Then what do I feel for you?
They tell me that I'm silly
But I see no humor in my pain
They tell me everyones unique
But they treat us like we're plain.
I'm sick of being different
Sometimes I wished I fit in
But that what they want me to think
So Creativity for the Win.
Mar 23, 2015
Mar 23, 2015 at 5:23 PM UTC
Screaming our lungs out
In the middle of the night
To bands we can't remember.
Dancing wildly
Spinning and shouting the lyrics
Because we can.
Im on your shoulders
Attempting to see the stage
And your watching me
Like I'm the silliest thing.
The stars are pretty,
And your eyes are prettier
As we lay on the cold grass
At the end of the concert.
Shouting
Raising our posters high
And fighting the crowds
As we fight for our rights.
Protesting,
And attempting not to
Get thrown in jail.
Throwing punches
And kissing passionately
Fighting
And soft embraces.
You are the Worst
The Best
Most Mind Numbing
Infuriating
The most Exciting
The most IMPORTANT
Person I've ever met,
Hands down.
Im your Forest Fire
And your my Chaotic Love
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 6:47 PM UTC
" What is poetry if it does not RHYME?"
Well, I'll tell you sir,
Poetry is a door.
" A door? Ridiculous. "
I'm telling you the truth sir,
Poetry is a door to the soul.
" I think your confused, girl. Poetry is something for children to read."
No sir,
Poetry is a way to express
How the poet feels
And thinks.
Poetry is a door.
" The eyes are a door to the soul, not some silly writing on wasted paper."
Now you're confused sir,
What do eyes show you but surface emotion?
"..."
You see sir,
I have you stumped.
Next time actually read the poetry.
Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 6:20 PM UTC
Who am I?
No one special
I promise.
No one you need to rush out
And meet.
Just..me.
Just a teen trying to figure out
The very question you ask me.
Who am I?
Someone very confused
I assure you.
Someone all alone,
Someone who's learning
To be independent
By dealing with being
Issolated.
Who am I?
Someone you should stay away from,
Believe me.
I ruin everything I even glance at,
People wilting under my
'Friendship'
Who am I?
I don't really know.
But I know I have
A Polluted Heart
And I'm no good
For your sunshiny ways.
Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 5:50 PM UTC
Im dizzy
Please, can you make this spinning stop?
The world is spinning
And I can see it move.
Im unbalanced
Please believe me
I feel sick
Too small to fit my body.
Invisible and helpless
Terrified and alone
Screaming
But it echos in the
Hollow body I own.
They've taken me and streached me
To fit this shell
And now the consequences
Are knocking me down.
Im dizzy,
Please make it stop.
Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 5:43 PM UTC
Fighting to survive in a world
Where survival is imposible.
Sure, your alive,
But what have you lost
And what parts of you
Are long dead?
Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 5:21 PM UTC