i hate growing up in an age
where it's normal to constantly put yourself down
and make a joke out of it.
anxiety is romanticized
like it's somehow "cool"
to struggle with a mental illness.
if you don't hate yourself,
it's unusual.
they tell you to stop being so full of yourself.
i'm really trying to love myself.
i didn't know it would be this hard.
my mind keeps insisting i'm not
good enough for this world.
so the only thing i can rely on is
the hope of a brighter future
away from the place i'm in now.
far, far away.
Jul 6, 2018
Jul 6, 2018 at 9:33 PM UTC
for the first time in my life
i'm motivated to do well
to be better
to make a name for myself
to live a life full of purpose
and i'm so ready
to start the next chapter
Jul 6, 2018
Jul 6, 2018 at 9:31 PM UTC
it's 4:49 am.
i should be sleeping,
but the thunder outside
is insisting i pry my eyes open.
my dog is terrified of thunder.
he's a rescue animal, so we don't know why.
all i know is that every storm i hold him
as he cries and shakes like a leaf.
everyone has their storm,
as solid as they may seem.
even the strongest of people have moments
that make them vulnerable.
when someone opens up to you,
you can either help them with their storm
or use it against them.
i always comfort them.
people ruin things you really used to love,
don't they?
not everyone has the best intentions.
they don't want to see you succeed.
and it's sad that out of all the emotions
they could have,
spite and jealousy is what they
choose to feel.
i'm rambling now, sorry.
being awake at 4:49 am means
my mind is always in a deep place.
it's hard to not think about the pain in the world.
it's 5:05 am now.
i think i'm going to go to sleep.
Jul 6, 2018
Jul 6, 2018 at 5:05 AM UTC
how can i go from
happiness to sadness
in a minute
i feel like nothing is right
and it makes me physically sick
that i am the way i am
a waste of space
who comes into people's lives
and clings to them
as if i have no respect
for myself
compromising myself to please
people i don't even like
Jun 28, 2018
Jun 28, 2018 at 12:13 PM UTC
we let our emotions linger
as subjects for our next verse
left unchecked for too long
we don't realize that they're drowning us
Jun 28, 2018
Jun 28, 2018 at 11:46 AM UTC
i feel trapped inside my own head
i truly believed i was healing
but now i feel the most conflicted i ever have
i tried so hard to escape the reality of my situation
that i ended up falling deeper into my mind
i won't give up
i swear, if it's the last thing i do
i'll make it out of here
my mind is my biggest obstacle
it watches my heart shatter forever
Jun 27, 2018
Jun 27, 2018 at 12:28 AM UTC
i grew up into a world that judges people
based off of shallow observations
choosing to ignore someone's inner beauty
in favor of insulting their appearance
self-love is taught to be rare, unusual, and selfish
i wake up each day in a body that feels wrong
in a mind that feels sick
everyone around me is either comfortable in their own skin
or the best **** actor i've ever seen
they've seemed to reach a point of self-acceptance
that i only graze in my dreams
why can't i just be like everyone else?
i start each day with the thought
of how nice it would be if i could be anyone else but me
Jun 27, 2018
Jun 27, 2018 at 12:22 AM UTC
"what do you want to do?" they ask,
looking for doctor, architect, lawyer.
i'm silent for a moment.
of course, i know what i want to do.
i've known for years.
but it's so hard to express my truth
when i know i'll be met with ridicule.
"i want to be a poet." i say.
they smile and call me a dreamer.
they commend my ambition and creativity.
their eyes scream j u d g e m e n t.
"what do you want to go to college for?" they try again,
hoping to get a better answer.
one that's more acceptable to society.
"well," i say, "i would love to take a creative writing class."
they raise their eyebrows.
that was not the answer they wanted.
"i just want to live my life through experience,
writing about everything i feel.
it's my greatest passion and my one true love.
i truly believe i have a gift." i add,
hoping they understand i'm serious.
i want them to know how hard i'm willing to work
to make this dream come true,
because fewer things are more attractive to an adult
as a teenager who is committed to a certain path in life.
"okay, mrs. poet,
what are you going to do to pay the bills?"
they really think they got me this time,
believing that all kids ever want is incredible amounts of money
and gadgets they'll never use.
but poets aren't shallow.
i chuckle at their attempt to stereotype me.
poetry is my end and my beginning,
what gives me joy.
so, yes,
poetry is a career.
Jun 27, 2018
Jun 27, 2018 at 12:06 AM UTC
in a world full of broken beauty
i wanted to write about my angel of happiness
i wake up with him by my side
knowing he'll never leave me
he actually enjoys my company
and sometimes i think he loves me
more than he loves himself
he loves to spend time with me
it doesn't matter what we do
as long as we're together
he kisses me often
and there are few things he loves more than cuddling
every night i go to sleep with him
wondering how i got so lucky
my dog.
Jun 25, 2018
Jun 25, 2018 at 5:26 PM UTC
she's a poet.
she's often labeled as an introvert
because she talks to few people.
she has a close circle,
and being with them gives her the greatest joy.
she feels understood by them.
as a poet,
she finds it hard to speak up.
she's used to spending
hours and hours and hours
rewriting her thoughts
until they perfectly capture the essence of her emotions.
speeches make her nervous,
she knows she only has one chance to make it perfect.
she's a chaotic perfectionist.
many poets have anxiety,
and she's just like them.
she's used to sharing her thoughts
with one person at most,
but even those thoughts have been filtered.
she knows those thoughts won't be accepted,
because most of them have been labeled
by society as inappropriate.
because people think her poem about sorrow
means she's depressed.
that her poem about passion
means she's a *****
in reality,
she finds the strongest emotions to express
and puts them into words.
few people dislike the poet,
but only because they don't understand her.
she knows that revealing her thoughts
would make people judge her,
and there's fewer things she hates more than judgement.
the poet is a gem
that few people understand,
that few people appreciate.
she turns to anonymous platforms to share her art,
because even with her low self-esteem,
she knows her words are going to take her far.
the poet is one of the most beautiful people on this planet,
but she'll never know.
Jun 25, 2018
Jun 25, 2018 at 5:17 PM UTC