Sleeping beauty, I'm a mess.
Asleep by my side.
You just shut your eyes.
Dreaming about a life, which hopefully includes mine.
Peaceful and alive, you feed my pride.
I wish you were mine; though I know it's a wish never to be granted,
I'll keep in mind, the pain that your "past" did.
The look on your face as you continue sleeping has me worried.
Why does it seem like you're hurting,
in a place where you shouldn't feel deserted?
You pull up close to me, yet you feel so distant.
What do I gotta do to make you feel existent?
Sleeping Beauty, you wreck me.
Asleep by my side.
You just opened your eyes.
Sep 21, 2017
Sep 21, 2017 at 7:37 PM UTC
What should you do when even smiling becomes overrated; when feelings are history, and emotions are mysteries?
What should you do when you've loved, and lost, but the pain created by loss, over mastered the love you've received?
What should you do when all you wanna be is yourself, but society declares that girls should look like Barbies and guys should be like Superman?
What should you do when you want to have a face-to-face conversation, but your inner-circle is too busy scrolling down the outer-circle's timeline.?
What should you do when all you want is unity, but racism is ascending faster than a race car on its last lap?
What should you do when you're scared of what tomorrow holds, because of the results and actions of our generation being obsessed with saying "YOLO"?
What should you do when you have everything you've ever wanted, except happiness?
What should you do when you want to live, but all that there's left to do is survive?
Aug 24, 2015
Aug 24, 2015 at 12:20 AM UTC
Who needs dreams,
when you have your thoughts?
Who needs a good image,
when you can just take shots?
Not just the tequila, or alcohol in general
but also drugs, or bullets..
that could lead to your funeral.
Jul 3, 2015
Jul 3, 2015 at 12:09 AM UTC
There is a child walking on the street,
by her own, begging for something to eat.
Hundreds are passing by daily,
none paying attention to her, all ignoring little Bailey.
After a long day of begging and pleading,
she lays down in her cardboard mansion, which is not even near pleasing.
Hours go by as she thinks about her life,
no family, no friends, not even some place she could rent.
What does it mean To be loved?
No parents, no siblings; is there really someone above?
She wonders why she had been the one left alone,
seven years, with no one to hold.
Love..does it exist?
Maybe in a husband, a pet, or a kid.
''But who would accept me like this?''
No foster family, no orphanage; I'm just a Misfit.
May 7, 2015
May 7, 2015 at 11:02 PM UTC
I really just want to cry,
Just let it all out.
I don't know why
I feel this filled with doubt.
I'm kind of done
And I no longer see the fun
In prolonging this pain.
There's nothing I could do..
I just can't keep sane.
And
As I look around,
I see smiles,
Hear laughs
which makes me wonder...
How these people can live without breaking a sweat.
It's pretty inspiring they can stay
This strong ...
I used to be strong,
But then I grew weak
And ended up doing the wrong
That shan't be speaked.
Since then I have started to pray
Every single day for his help
To get me through this horrid phase.
But...I guess I don't pray hard enough
Or
Have a big enough faith.
So...
The reality,I assume,is
I'm forever lost in this place.
May 6, 2015
May 6, 2015 at 10:08 PM UTC
Some people have an IT that they must face
A beast ahead or demon on the shoulder
For them the IT is writ in upper case.
I fear that many men hide every trace
Of tears and self in masks appearing bolder
Some people have an IT that they must face
And those who gaze transfixed at the sheer pace
Of life's descent to dust, to rust and moulder,
For them the IT is writ in upper case.
My beauty meets her monsters every place.
And though I'm often there to hug and hold her
My darling has an IT that she must face
She battles them with discipline and grace
And lives by dint of detail, file and folder
Each labelled by an IT in upper case.
Though time will always catch us in the chase
It's fear of living true that turns us colder
Some people have an IT that they must face
For them the IT is writ in upper case.
Apr 3, 2015
Apr 3, 2015 at 3:05 PM UTC
Shallow breaths,
tight chest,
blurry vision,
No rest.
Tied up
by my thoughts:
make it stop...
‘give it all you’ve got.’
Head spinning,
hope dwindling.
Skin burning,
bones chilling.
Drowning in air
a sinking ship;
dying of thirst,
and I don’t get a drip.
Surrounded by an ocean
and I can’t see
anything.
I can’t hear
for the life of me.
**This feeling
I swear
is killing
me.**
Whispering:
“give in
don’t get up
stay home
you’re not enough.
Even if there’s nothing wrong:
walk out the door
and harm
will come”
This ubiquitous feeling
draping
over me,
enveloping
everything,
wet,
and weighted...
bet you’ve never hated
someone so much
you’d stab them in the chest
and without a moments rest
grab them at the throat
so tight they can’t whisper a note
and leave them wondering
if they’ve even given their best
after their whole self feels negated.
**This hate,
this punishment
or something,
draped
over me
so viciously
is known as:
Anxiety.**
Mar 18, 2015
Mar 18, 2015 at 10:32 PM UTC