sophia-fagone - Hello Poetry

So I stand here still, like a statue in a museum I’m frozen My palms are sweaty, my tears are burning me like acid on my skin I reach my hand down the grab a hold of you You are so little, in a giant world with no way to comprehend what is happening You are so innocent with your little black dress and your ocean blue eyes I see his smile in yours, I hear his laugh in your voice, He is everywhere, in the moon, and the stars, looking down watching over us He is in the beach waves crashing onto shore, but yet always finding its way back to the ocean He is in your singing, while your rehearsing for your concert He is everywhere, but he is gone They took him from us, he said ‘baby don’t worry I’ll be home someday’ But they took him, shot down his plane, and left nothing but ashes and skin burning on the ground Left a wife without a husband, a baby girl without a daddy A mother without a son They say he is a hero, He died for freedom He fought for our country Well congratulations US, my husband is gone, and your country is free So as I look down at you, a helpless little girl with no daddy to tuck you in at night or to tell you what is right and wrong What am I supposed to say when you grow up and ask why your daddy has been taken from you I’ll have no words, I will look into those ocean blue eyes of yours and see him. I close my eyes and see him, standing right in front of me, with his army green on He is running toward me, faster, faster, faster Until I freeze, I stand still like a statute and I can’t breathe My throat is blocked from the tears trying to escape my eyes He’s gone, **** just like that My one true love, my soul mate, my everything is gone I watch as they carefully fold up your flag Place it on your coffin and salute the flag flying high in the sky. Another soldier has fallen Another man never coming home Another family never going to see their loved one again I glance down to see a microscopic tear, rolling down your face You reach your hand up to me, and say ‘Mommy, daddy is home now’ I’ve lost it now, my strength, my grace, the tears are burning like rain on a hot summer night I wake up in a pool of my own sweat, the letter I’ve read a thousand times, under my pillow, I’m still young, waiting for him to come home so we can start our lives together That nightmare I had, will not become our reality, because he said ‘Baby, don’t worry, I’ll be home someday’

0

Mar 31, 2014

Mar 31, 2014 at 8:05 AM UTC

Nightmare

So I stand here still, like a statue in a museum I’m frozen My palms are sweaty, my tears are burning me like acid on my skin I reach my hand down the grab a hold of you You are so little, in a giant world with no way to comprehend what is happening You are so innocent with your little black dress and your ocean blue eyes I see his smile in yours, I hear his laugh in your voice, He is everywhere, in the moon, and the stars, looking down watching over us He is in the beach waves crashing onto shore, but yet always finding its way back to the ocean He is in your singing, while your rehearsing for your concert He is everywhere, but he is gone They took him from us, he said ‘baby don’t worry I’ll be home someday’ But they took him, shot down his plane, and left nothing but ashes and skin burning on the ground Left a wife without a husband, a baby girl without a daddy A mother without a son They say he is a hero, He died for freedom He fought for our country Well congratulations US, my husband is gone, and your country is free So as I look down at you, a helpless little girl with no daddy to tuck you in at night or to tell you what is right and wrong What am I supposed to say when you grow up and ask why your daddy has been taken from you I’ll have no words, I will look into those ocean blue eyes of yours and see him. I close my eyes and see him, standing right in front of me, with his army green on He is running toward me, faster, faster, faster Until I freeze, I stand still like a statute and I can’t breathe My throat is blocked from the tears trying to escape my eyes He’s gone, **** just like that My one true love, my soul mate, my everything is gone I watch as they carefully fold up your flag Place it on your coffin and salute the flag flying high in the sky. Another soldier has fallen Another man never coming home Another family never going to see their loved one again I glance down to see a microscopic tear, rolling down your face You reach your hand up to me, and say ‘Mommy, daddy is home now’ I’ve lost it now, my strength, my grace, the tears are burning like rain on a hot summer night I wake up in a pool of my own sweat, the letter I’ve read a thousand times, under my pillow, I’m still young, waiting for him to come home so we can start our lives together That nightmare I had, will not become our reality, because he said ‘Baby, don’t worry, I’ll be home someday’

65

RED Your bright red visor turned backwards so the wind won’t devour it Your bright red skis zipping down the race course Your bright red visor facing forward to block the sun as you swing the club and strike the golf ball My bright red lipstick kisses my mouth, as I prepare to perform My bright red costume sparkles in the stage lights My bright red lipstick ruined from the tears streaming down my face. The thoughts running through my head are like traffic Bright, loud and slow moving I can’t think Can’t breathe Can’t speak What is happening?  When a person dies Where do they go? Heaven? Hell? The after life? Space? All these questions that will never be answered Science can explain how someone dies but not what happens after Science told me that he had melanoma Science told me that our time was limited Science can’t tell me how he felt Science can’t tell me what he was thinking when that last puff of air reached his lungs Science can’t tell me how much he loved me But the answer to that last question, is so clear My bright red lipstick kisses my mouth, My midnight black dress draped on my curves My bright red lipstick ruined from the tears streaming down my face Your bright red visor now worn by the man I call my daddy Your bright red skis still zipping down the course, but with a different skier, your son, Your bright red visor, a reminder to those, that you are still with us.

0

Mar 26, 2014

Mar 26, 2014 at 9:12 PM UTC

Red

RED Your bright red visor turned backwards so the wind won’t devour it Your bright red skis zipping down the race course Your bright red visor facing forward to block the sun as you swing the club and strike the golf ball My bright red lipstick kisses my mouth, as I prepare to perform My bright red costume sparkles in the stage lights My bright red lipstick ruined from the tears streaming down my face. The thoughts running through my head are like traffic Bright, loud and slow moving I can’t think Can’t breathe Can’t speak What is happening?  When a person dies Where do they go? Heaven? Hell? The after life? Space? All these questions that will never be answered Science can explain how someone dies but not what happens after Science told me that he had melanoma Science told me that our time was limited Science can’t tell me how he felt Science can’t tell me what he was thinking when that last puff of air reached his lungs Science can’t tell me how much he loved me But the answer to that last question, is so clear My bright red lipstick kisses my mouth, My midnight black dress draped on my curves My bright red lipstick ruined from the tears streaming down my face Your bright red visor now worn by the man I call my daddy Your bright red skis still zipping down the course, but with a different skier, your son, Your bright red visor, a reminder to those, that you are still with us.

49

The rush The grace The feeling I get when I dance My heart beating faster and faster and faster Until everything falls silent Its me And the music Just Me And the rhythm My heart is beating, my feet are moving My head is spinning, I hit it A switch turns on inside of me I’m in it to win it now I want that platinum, I want to make you proud of me I want to be the dancer you want me to be But ballet, thats not it. You ruined this, you told me I wasn’t good enough Point your toes, lift your chin, hold your leg higher Do this, do that. Who cares? Do I look like a prima ballerina to you? I am not tall, I am not lanky I am not skinny, I am not light And I’m sorry but I have ***** You can push me, Stretch me, pull me in all different directions To do what? Make me more flexible, more graceful, more you You have beaten me down with your words, so much that the one thing I loved most in the world has slowly been slipping away from me Dance doesn’t define who I am, It is who I am. Dance is me I am dance I’m big ***** I have strong muscles I’m not graceful, when you tell me to hit it hard, I hit it with intensity, with power Don’t ask me to prance around in a pink tutu. I won’t. Put me in harem pants, and a baggy sweatshirt Throw some beats down And I’ll groove it Pop it, slide it, lock it Sharp sharp smooooooth So many different moves, Some don’t even have names No Fouetté, or jeté No relevé, or adagio What do these even mean? Do I look french to you? I’d rather body roll Chest pop And just let my body do the talking I don’t dance to impress you I don’t dance to please your needs I don’t dance for high scores I dance to express the words I cannot speak

0

Mar 25, 2014

Mar 25, 2014 at 1:34 PM UTC

Ballerina

The rush The grace The feeling I get when I dance My heart beating faster and faster and faster Until everything falls silent Its me And the music Just Me And the rhythm My heart is beating, my feet are moving My head is spinning, I hit it A switch turns on inside of me I’m in it to win it now I want that platinum, I want to make you proud of me I want to be the dancer you want me to be But ballet, thats not it. You ruined this, you told me I wasn’t good enough Point your toes, lift your chin, hold your leg higher Do this, do that. Who cares? Do I look like a prima ballerina to you? I am not tall, I am not lanky I am not skinny, I am not light And I’m sorry but I have ***** You can push me, Stretch me, pull me in all different directions To do what? Make me more flexible, more graceful, more you You have beaten me down with your words, so much that the one thing I loved most in the world has slowly been slipping away from me Dance doesn’t define who I am, It is who I am. Dance is me I am dance I’m big ***** I have strong muscles I’m not graceful, when you tell me to hit it hard, I hit it with intensity, with power Don’t ask me to prance around in a pink tutu. I won’t. Put me in harem pants, and a baggy sweatshirt Throw some beats down And I’ll groove it Pop it, slide it, lock it Sharp sharp smooooooth So many different moves, Some don’t even have names No Fouetté, or jeté No relevé, or adagio What do these even mean? Do I look french to you? I’d rather body roll Chest pop And just let my body do the talking I don’t dance to impress you I don’t dance to please your needs I don’t dance for high scores I dance to express the words I cannot speak

60

He looks at her from across the room. The smile on his face like the treasure cat. His eyes light up like lanterns in a dark sky. She glances back, but doesn't notice. All she sees is a lonely boy with no friends, a boy with no future. She is preoccupied with pointless things, he was never given the chance to prove to her, he is something. He is the answer to the questions she has in her head He is waiting for her to notice Why won't she just look up and see what she has been looking for guy after guy party after party He is still by her side Leading her, guiding her trying to make her realize he is something

0

Feb 13, 2014

Feb 13, 2014 at 4:23 PM UTC

Untitled

He looks at her from across the room. The smile on his face like the treasure cat. His eyes light up like lanterns in a dark sky. She glances back, but doesn't notice. All she sees is a lonely boy with no friends, a boy with no future. She is preoccupied with pointless things, he was never given the chance to prove to her, he is something. He is the answer to the questions she has in her head He is waiting for her to notice Why won't she just look up and see what she has been looking for guy after guy party after party He is still by her side Leading her, guiding her trying to make her realize he is something

19

We talked today For the first time in weeks And I thought Maybe someday Soon We could be friends again And then I stopped being a fool And realized I could never again Be just friends With you

0

Dec 24, 2013

Dec 24, 2013 at 10:25 PM UTC

Mine

We talked today For the first time in weeks And I thought Maybe someday Soon We could be friends again And then I stopped being a fool And realized I could never again Be just friends With you

11

When I was a little girl I used to sit in the audience and watch, as all the dancers on stage lit up my tiny world. They were fabulous, sparkly and their technique was flawless. I wanted to be up there, and I wanted to be as amazing as them. The pounding of the music, and the atmosphere surrounding me was unbelievable. I was a little girl lost in a big world. I couldn’t wait until that was me, I wanted to be perfect, I wanted to be amazing. Now I am one of the oldest in my class, and I know the girls look up to me. I am trying to be the best role model I can be. I want little girls to be inspired like I was. For generations to come, girls who push themselves to become better, that’s the reason why I dance. I love seeing the progress in people, and myself. About six years ago I joined my very first hip hop class. I had never taken anything like it before. I was a ballerina, and I wasn’t very graceful. So I thought I’d try something new. I walked into a strange room with strange people. I was so nervous, what if I wasn’t good enough? What if people made fun of me? I still remember the look my teacher DeeDee gave me, it was a welcoming, sort of frightening look. She was a fiery red head, and she was full of energy. She was bouncing around, her curls flying everywhere. Those curls, I had some of my own, but I was determined to hide them, so I straightened them everyday. Her hair was flying and whipping and I couldn’t help but just stare. She was a goddess sent down from heaven to teach me how to be a better dancer. Today my dream job is a dance teacher. I strive to be like DeeDee, and I want to live a life full of dance and kids like she does. After that first year of classes, I still wasn’t the best, but I had come so far. I remember wanting to quit, but DeeDee wouldn’t let me. She said I had potential. This meant so much to me, and it felt so good to have someone believe in me. I kept going at it, and finally I had accomplished moving to the older class. To dance with girls older than me was intimidating but it was also a great learning experience. I was pushed by DeeDee to get better, and I wasn’t allowed to quit. No matter how tough things got, I trusted DeeDee when she told me “Hit it hard” I had good days and I had many bad days, but those bad days were a learning experience and I am better today because of it. The success and the progress I have made in my past years of dancing have all been thanks to DeeDee St. Peter. Without her I probably would not of had the strength to keep dancing and keep trying. To this day I still have DeeDee as a coach, and we are closer than ever. I can count on her for anything and everything. If I ever need someone to talk to, then I can always go to her. She is a great listener and a wonderful friend. I am not a senior yet, but I know, when the day comes that I dance in her class for my final year, I will cry. I will always keep the lessons I have learned, and the memories we have will be forever with me. DeeDee will forever be my hero, and I couldn’t ask for a better coach, teacher, and friend.

0

Dec 18, 2013

Dec 18, 2013 at 8:47 AM UTC

A Teacher. A Coach. A Friend. A Hero.

When I was a little girl I used to sit in the audience and watch, as all the dancers on stage lit up my tiny world. They were fabulous, sparkly and their technique was flawless. I wanted to be up there, and I wanted to be as amazing as them. The pounding of the music, and the atmosphere surrounding me was unbelievable. I was a little girl lost in a big world. I couldn’t wait until that was me, I wanted to be perfect, I wanted to be amazing. Now I am one of the oldest in my class, and I know the girls look up to me. I am trying to be the best role model I can be. I want little girls to be inspired like I was. For generations to come, girls who push themselves to become better, that’s the reason why I dance. I love seeing the progress in people, and myself. About six years ago I joined my very first hip hop class. I had never taken anything like it before. I was a ballerina, and I wasn’t very graceful. So I thought I’d try something new. I walked into a strange room with strange people. I was so nervous, what if I wasn’t good enough? What if people made fun of me? I still remember the look my teacher DeeDee gave me, it was a welcoming, sort of frightening look. She was a fiery red head, and she was full of energy. She was bouncing around, her curls flying everywhere. Those curls, I had some of my own, but I was determined to hide them, so I straightened them everyday. Her hair was flying and whipping and I couldn’t help but just stare. She was a goddess sent down from heaven to teach me how to be a better dancer. Today my dream job is a dance teacher. I strive to be like DeeDee, and I want to live a life full of dance and kids like she does. After that first year of classes, I still wasn’t the best, but I had come so far. I remember wanting to quit, but DeeDee wouldn’t let me. She said I had potential. This meant so much to me, and it felt so good to have someone believe in me. I kept going at it, and finally I had accomplished moving to the older class. To dance with girls older than me was intimidating but it was also a great learning experience. I was pushed by DeeDee to get better, and I wasn’t allowed to quit. No matter how tough things got, I trusted DeeDee when she told me “Hit it hard” I had good days and I had many bad days, but those bad days were a learning experience and I am better today because of it. The success and the progress I have made in my past years of dancing have all been thanks to DeeDee St. Peter. Without her I probably would not of had the strength to keep dancing and keep trying. To this day I still have DeeDee as a coach, and we are closer than ever. I can count on her for anything and everything. If I ever need someone to talk to, then I can always go to her. She is a great listener and a wonderful friend. I am not a senior yet, but I know, when the day comes that I dance in her class for my final year, I will cry. I will always keep the lessons I have learned, and the memories we have will be forever with me. DeeDee will forever be my hero, and I couldn’t ask for a better coach, teacher, and friend.

4

Slice. Cut. Butcher. When a person hears those words they think: Meat. Wound. Deli. When I hear those words I think: Skin. Blood. Pain. I'm too much of a coward, I can't **** myself. But I can hurt myself. And that has relieved my pain. Now I am numb. I can no longer feel anything. I've given up everything. My friends. My family. My life. I have devoted myself to my pain. Sooner or later my life will end. I don't want anyone to know the real me. I can't fight the tears that flood down my face, like the blood flows from my tan skin onto the floor. Now everything is a blur. I can feel myself getting weaker. The last image I see is, red. Red for roses, and hearts. Red for blood, and fear. Red

0

Dec 17, 2013

Dec 17, 2013 at 6:25 PM UTC

Wounded and Red..

Slice. Cut. Butcher. When a person hears those words they think: Meat. Wound. Deli. When I hear those words I think: Skin. Blood. Pain. I'm too much of a coward, I can't **** myself. But I can hurt myself. And that has relieved my pain. Now I am numb. I can no longer feel anything. I've given up everything. My friends. My family. My life. I have devoted myself to my pain. Sooner or later my life will end. I don't want anyone to know the real me. I can't fight the tears that flood down my face, like the blood flows from my tan skin onto the floor. Now everything is a blur. I can feel myself getting weaker. The last image I see is, red. Red for roses, and hearts. Red for blood, and fear. Red

25

My blood curdling screams. They seem to get louder as the years pass me by. The pressure has built up and I can feel myself bursting at the seems. I'm going to explode. I am a volcano just waiting to erupt. Don't tempt me. I am definitely boiling now.

0

Dec 17, 2013

Dec 17, 2013 at 6:00 PM UTC

Boiling

My blood curdling screams. They seem to get louder as the years pass me by. The pressure has built up and I can feel myself bursting at the seems. I'm going to explode. I am a volcano just waiting to erupt. Don't tempt me. I am definitely boiling now.

7

It's infatuation I'm becoming obsessed When I'm with you my life is complete When you are away, all I do is miss you and want you here I don't want you I need you But you don't care You have moved on You are finally happy again Who am I to ruin that? I just want you to love me I want you to see the stars and the moon when you look at me All you see are my mistakes My issues I'm crazy Crazy about you

0

Dec 7, 2013

Dec 7, 2013 at 7:30 AM UTC

Lust

It's infatuation I'm becoming obsessed When I'm with you my life is complete When you are away, all I do is miss you and want you here I don't want you I need you But you don't care You have moved on You are finally happy again Who am I to ruin that? I just want you to love me I want you to see the stars and the moon when you look at me All you see are my mistakes My issues I'm crazy Crazy about you

16

I have this thing.. It's called bipolar disorder Okay, okay, go ahead and make stupid jokes now. Yeah let me tell you something I'm different You're different We are all different I get mad, I get upset, I get happy, and I get confused But doesn't everyone? Life is hard enough, now you are adding a label to mine. You are packing me and all my emotions up into a tiny bottle of prescription pills The only other pills I've taken, haven't been prescribed. Am I not allowed to express myself? Be me? Show my emotions? No. Everyone thinks I'm having a manic episode. How come? The label. That label on my body doesn't say "Bipolar Disorder" It says "Crazy"

0

Dec 2, 2013

Dec 2, 2013 at 1:28 PM UTC

Labels

I have this thing.. It's called bipolar disorder Okay, okay, go ahead and make stupid jokes now. Yeah let me tell you something I'm different You're different We are all different I get mad, I get upset, I get happy, and I get confused But doesn't everyone? Life is hard enough, now you are adding a label to mine. You are packing me and all my emotions up into a tiny bottle of prescription pills The only other pills I've taken, haven't been prescribed. Am I not allowed to express myself? Be me? Show my emotions? No. Everyone thinks I'm having a manic episode. How come? The label. That label on my body doesn't say "Bipolar Disorder" It says "Crazy"

18