What do you see
When you see me

Do you see a beautiful young lady
Oozing potential

Bright grey eyes
And a big smile

Tall posture
Showing confidence

An outgoing girl
Ready to take on the world

When I look in the mirror
I see me

But who am I
Cliche really
The simple three worded question

I see a girl
With troubles in her eyes
And a smile full of lies

Being outgoing
Is my defence
Go all out
Let no one in

Tall posture
Is the result of a saying
"If you can't blow them away with your brilliance, baffle them with your *******."

In reality though
It's all self hate
Thoughts of

'You're not good enough'
'You're unforgivable'
'Nothing you do will ever be enough'

In reality
I am what you see
And what you see is me

And what you read here
Is another part of me
That I don't let people see

Is this what you see
When you meet me

Lying in bed thinking
Thinking about
About this poem
This poem is similar to my thoughts
About the body, the mind, the future, what I don't know and of course poetry
and within this tree
the sugar of a honey bee
You will soon see
Rhyming G and C
1 × 3
= 3
Oh ****! Im still writing....
Excuse the mess on the paper
I write stuff down when my mind wonders
It helps me find my way home safer

It's like when you're ****** and forget that you're cold
Everyone's way too sensitive
If you don't do anything when you're young you won't have anything to talk about when you're old
I hear the bell charming, an eerie sound
Smoking yet another cigarette
Tonic water to ***** ratio is off
Unforgettable Saturday nights
Been on this binge since last Monday
Can't get it together, not sure I want to
Just because I'm snorting my savings account doesn't mean I can't understand the things I'm seeing with these wide eyes
Fiends at the door, girls crying on the bathroom floor
My boyfriends ten years older than me but age doesn't matter because it's pretty easy to hate anyone
Everyone's telling me to quit while I'm ahead but I can't seem to feel anything or understand their concern
I'm not a drug addict I'm a party enthusiast
Tell my mother I love her

It's been over 365 days
It's been many nightmares and repetitive poetry
But your name still lingers on my breathe
And the short-lived memories on the tip of my tongue
I should probably brush my teeth

You shouldn't still be here
You left a longtime ago
But you must have forgot to tell me
Because I was still sending you letters
And you would send some back
But you tricked me you tricked me you tricked me

The idea of your voice caused me to rediscover old mannerisms
You reminded me that I actually like wearing bones and the color red
It's like finding an old song that you used to love
And the thought of bones is becoming an obsession again

Even my worst habits remind me of you
Everywhere is you
Everything is you
You're causing this "poem" to turn into and old unsaid rant

The thought of you has a nucleus and membrane of its own
It travels through my body and attacks my white blood cells

I shouldn’t still be writing about you
You're so last year
But baby I'm a hipster and I love to wear vintage

stop inviting people
making them think they need to go to some steeple
to learn about Jesus Christ
and how he gave up his life
it's not about staying in your safe place
but stepping out to face
the fears put there by the world
which makes thoughts begin to swirl
Jesus is not something just for church
Where you search
for some magical change
inside your heart that is strange
it happens when you get a personal connection
when your truly feel the Lords affection
which doesn't have to be there
but it could be anywhere
"Go and make disciples"
Listen to the Bible
Go is the key word
Anyone can understand this for sure
So stop inviting
And begin uniting
God's children of all nations
And start bringing everyone to salvation

i read
and re-read
your poems, over and over
i burn through them like cigarettes
rich, mellow, and solitary
risky, euphoric, and momentary
lots of people think they are bad for you,
ya know, that classic nicotine hate
but there are lots of things everyone does to get thru,
like loving someone in a different state...
but i know a chain smoker who is 82,
and have you seen jessica lange?
she's smokin' up in every frame
and she is not afraid
and he is not afraid
so i am not afraid
but i do smoke an awful lot these days....
and this turkish royal that hangs off my lips
has nothing on the gorgeousness of your semantics;
the genuine complexity of your consciousness
the only difference between you & cigarettes,
is that i'll eventually put smoking to rest
but my love for you? will stay the same
i could puff on your words for days,
and it doesn't even hurt