A friend of mine told me
I write when I’m sad
She said it is as if I am in pain
And I said when I write it rains
When I put the pen on paper the clouds get dark
And when I stop
The birds of the sky sings
Coming out to play as the sun is out
Oct 24, 2020
Oct 24, 2020 at 10:38 PM UTC
I am two
That can merge
Into one.
I can be as loud
Or as quiet as
You please.
I can also become
A mess you get tired
Of dealing with.
One thing I cannot do
Is speak for myself.
If I could,
I'd scream in disgust
Because of the horrors
Of this goopy, sticky
Yellow stuff that
Attaches itself to me
Every time I'm used.
I'd sue if I could!
Nov 26, 2018
Nov 26, 2018 at 1:00 AM UTC
You stay sayin'
People always changing up
On you,
But it's really
You who be
Changing up
On everybody else.
So why you
Being fake as ****
Why you changing
Faces like underwear?
Why you
Buddy, buddy
One day
Then talkin' ****
The next?
Quit your switch flippin'
And pay attention
Cuz you losin'
The best.
Nov 26, 2018
Nov 26, 2018 at 12:53 AM UTC
The greatest love story
Falling apart
At the seems.
Outside it seems
As if they are
Ok,
But the truth is
They go at it
Like cats and dogs
Wondering if it
Will ever end?
They're the same person
In different bodies.
How can you
Fight with yourself?
Their love is
Quite toxic
Can't you tell?
It's only a mater
Of time
Before they do it.
Nov 26, 2018
Nov 26, 2018 at 12:46 AM UTC
Abraham Lincoln is my nam[e]
And with my pen I wrote the same
I wrote in both hast and speed
and left it here for fools to read
Nov 3, 2018
Nov 3, 2018 at 2:47 AM UTC
Paint me a picture
Of your skin
Does it bronze beneath the sun?
Or sizzle and blush
Like your cheeks
When you’re in love?
Is it soft to the touch
Like when your palms graze
The smooth surface of water?
Or rough around the edges
Like your favorite book
And its lovingly worn corners?
Does it melt in the heat
Like sweet syrupy treats
Dripping through your fingers?
Or does it welcome the winter
With wide open arms
As if greeting a lover?
Paint me a picture
Of your skin
Aug 17, 2018
Aug 17, 2018 at 6:23 PM UTC
The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.
When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.
If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.
But most people don’t see it.
Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.
The poet lives in two different worlds.
Aug 17, 2018
Aug 17, 2018 at 6:22 PM UTC
I live in a house
With nine people,
That's including me.
And maybe I should
Be happy to have
A roof over my head,
But I'm not happy.
I feel guilty and ashamed.
I feel out of place.
I feel like I'm a piece
Of a puzzle that doesn't
Belong to this puzzle.
I do want to be here and
I do love it here, but
Maybe not at the price of
Someone's space.
Aug 17, 2018
Aug 17, 2018 at 6:17 PM UTC
I am Both
I am held together,
I melt away.
I am the voice that speaks for pay
I am at a loss for what to say.
I am the day, I am the night
I am the peace; I am the fight.
I am the love, I am the hate
I am on time, I come in late.
I am the good, I am the bad
I am the real, I am the fad.
I am with you, I am alone
I am the sewer, I am cologne.
I am the rich, I am the poor
I am the nun; I am the *****
I am the door, I am the wall
I am the big, I am the small.
I am the doubt, I am belief
I am the long, I am the brief.
I am the servant, I am the king
I am the mute, I too can sing.
I am the mansion, I am the shack
I am the plenty; I am the lack.
I am the truth, I am the lies
I am the laugh; I am the cry.
I am the bitter, I am the sweet
I am the win, I am defeat.
I am the up, I am the down
I am the smile; I am the frown.
I am the calm, I am the strife
I am the death; I am the life.
I am the two of all we see,
Both good and bad we come to be.
When the finite's in eternity,
Both good and bad reside in me.
Because I am the fire, I am the snow
I am holding on; I am letting go.
I am satisfied, I am discontent
I am the sender; I am the sent.
I am the foe, I am the friend
I am the start I am the END.
Jul 4, 2018
Jul 4, 2018 at 8:02 PM UTC