You want it
But have no need
You crave it
But you'd rarely feed
Once you're inside
You'll want right out
Then back again
I have no doubt
This game here
Is one I own
No one else
Sits on my throne
I claim calamities
And assume atrocities
All while the quiet
Voice inside hides
Jun 4, 2016
Jun 4, 2016 at 2:14 AM UTC
Do you ever dread the day?
The day you write your masterpiece.
Your heart wrenched, blood spilled, gasping for air masterpiece.
The poem you were never meant to write.
The poem of your nightmares.
Jun 4, 2016
Jun 4, 2016 at 2:12 AM UTC
Your soul is beautiful and warm and radiant.
Thank you for being my sun.
Jun 4, 2016
Jun 4, 2016 at 2:11 AM UTC
**citizens are dying
mommas are crying
countries are sighing
goverments are trying
to do all they can
but they don't realize that they have to unite man to man,
so maybe all of these attacks will stop, including in pakistan,
blood is drying,
bombs are flying,
watching this on the news is horrifying,
deaths are multiplying,
this is terrifying,
my heart goes out to the lives that were lost, to the families that died, to the mothers on their knees crying, to the citizens on hospital beds slowly dying.
you did not deserve this.**
Apr 1, 2016
Apr 1, 2016 at 12:46 AM UTC
**sometimes i have to breathe in,
and breathe out,
so i can remind myself not
to doubt
my existence
so i can remind myself of
the distance
between my room and my
mother's
so i can remind myself to not give her another
gray hair
so i can remind myself that
someone out there
probably does care
so that i can remind myself that
i matter,
though my heart
may shatter
and the art
within me probably
won't matter
sometimes i have to breathe in,
and breathe out,
so i can remind myself that i am alive
and that i can survive.**
Apr 1, 2016
Apr 1, 2016 at 12:45 AM UTC
**since when did being sad,
become beautiful?**
since when did tears,
become beautiful?
since when did cuts,
become beautiful?
since when did mental illnesses
become beautiful?
Since when did depression
become beautiful?
when did all of this become, beautiful?
no.
i want you to think that when i smile, and when i am happy is beautiful.
i want you to think that when i laugh, it is beautiful.
i want you to think that when my hair dances with the wind that it is beautiful.
I want you to think that when my eyes reflect the moon, that that is beautiful.
Sadness, pain, and everything does not define my beauty.
It should be my happiness that does, shouldn't it?
Apr 1, 2016
Apr 1, 2016 at 12:44 AM UTC
You are not your pain.
You are not your pain.
You are not your pain.
You are not what happened to you.
You are not what happened to you.
You are not what happened to you.
You are not what they did to you.
You are not what they did to you.
You are not what they did to you.
Feb 21, 2016
Feb 21, 2016 at 4:07 PM UTC
she drinks,
until she feels her
liver sink
he drowns,
in his tears,
because he can't erase her fears
she smokes
until she's broke
he cries as
he watches her soul die
she gets high,
just so she can be free and fly,
he lets out a long sigh,
and finally went by her side,
being her wind,
to let her fly.
and she finally realized
that she didn't need those
drinks,
drugs,
and ugh-
to fly,
she just needed someone to be
her wind,
her sky,
and my oh my,
oh how he helped her fly.
Feb 21, 2016
Feb 21, 2016 at 4:04 PM UTC