Do any of y'all really know me?
Can you see who I am from my poetry?
If your answer is yes, you're wrong
Even I don't know where I belong
When people ask who I am
I say I'm 26, a mother, a poet,
I basically just read my bio
But you've all read that too
Does that mean you really know?
A friend told me lately
To stop being so humble about my poetry
I don't like to come off sounding cocky
He says I'm **** good at what I do
But not every poem is about you
Not every word is always true
Sometimes, they're just words written in ink
To give you an idea, to really make you think....
But my poetry doesn't define me
Doesn't show you who I am inside
Sure, you've read about my heartaches
And all the nights I've cried
But nothing I write,
Can show you the inner workings of my mind
So, please don't think you really know me
Based solely on all my posted poetry
Because, to be honest, I'm not even sure who I am
And I know me, better than all of you
But please continue to read and comment
Because I'd love to know the truth
About what you all really think of me
Honestly, y'all have really helped me through
Nov 13, 2014
Nov 13, 2014 at 5:16 AM UTC
I want to be that girl in the photograph
The one where happiness is etched on her face
And her eyes are overflowing with joy
The one where her smile shows her passion
And how she’s so full of confidence
The one where her expression shows her courage
And how she uses it to set her ambitions high
The one where she’s so comfortable being who she is
And so at ease with doing what she loves
The one where there’s no sign of fear
Nor even a little hint of doubt
The one where trust comes naturally
And a fault isn’t to be found
But sometime between then and now
Life threw what it could at her
And her confidence wavered
Her courage was destroyed
Her ambitions thrown away
Her eyes left lifeless
Her smile was forced
And any love, trust or happiness was gone
And she was no longer the girl in the photograph,
The one where she was caught in the middle of a laugh
Then sometime a little after now
A realization hit her quite hard
The girl in the photograph came to see
That it wasn’t life that made her feel empty
She opened her eyes and was surprised at what she saw
It was her who’d taken herself down, with a mighty hard blow
And she was the reason she suffered such pain
So sick of it she became
That she stood up and braced herself
And made a decision that would change her life
She decided: She was going to be the girl in the photograph again.
Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 1:43 PM UTC
You started to grow on me like moss on a tree
You are the only one that has ever set me free
from the ties that were binding me to darkness
You found me out in the cold
scared and alone
You brought me back
from the edge of insanity
and let me crawl into your heart
Now you are a part of me
no longer alone and empty
for all eternity
i love you
Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 8:05 AM UTC