i do not write poetry.
i do not write poetry, my soul touches the blank paper and blurts out some truth.

i am not a poet, i do not write poetry.
i am not a poet. my heart spills the ink onto the page and lets me take credit. i do not write poetry, my soul touches the blank paper and blurts out some truth.

i am not original, i am not a poet, i do not write poetry.
i am not original. i copy a poem that my mind already wrote and then i plagiarize it. i am not a poet. my heart spills the ink onto the page and lets me take credit. i do not write poetry, my soul touches the blank paper and blurts out some truth.

i am not original, i am not a poet, i do not write poetry.

you popped my bubble gum heart,
with five simple words.

"i don't love you anymore."

now all that remained,
what i've left unsaid,

"but i still love you."
is what i feel for you.

like chewed up gum,
worn-out and colourless,
is how i feel without you.

yes i am young,
i am a child,
i have yet to experience the world.

maybe i don't know what love is quite yet.

but i do know what i feel
or felt
for someone i held dearly.

i may be an adolescent, but when i first turned 13

i knew i have experienced love.
not true love, but love,

do not tell me how i feel and how i don't
or how i should or how i shouldn't.

i met someone i loved at a juvenile age.

yes i am young
i am a child,
i have yet to experience the world.

maybe i don't know what love is quite yet.

but i know how i feel.

hugs and kisses up until now.

a whole new world has peeled before my eyes.

flirty actions and make-out sessions has been forced upon us

alcohol and boys make a great party.

drama and girls happens everyday.

teenage life, what a blast.

R.I.P to my blissful youth.

blonde hair, blue eyes,
flat tummy, thigh gap.
redder lips, long lashes.

vogue likes us skinny.
when we're bulimic you say "be yourself."

you say makeup makes you pretty.
but you tell us "don't mask your complexion!"

what
do
we
have
to
do
to
be
accepted?

some times i get so sad

     i
                                 just

b  r  e  a  k                                    
            
                         down

                                      into
                                                         p
                                                              i
                                                          ­      e
                                                          ­        c
                                                                ­     e
                                                               ­         s.