Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
I'm not a typical teenager
I don't facebook things
Or post my life to the world
I don't tweet
Or Twitter
Or all the other
Networks
I don't instagram
In fact
I don't like pictures
If me. I hide from the camera
Hoping no one will
Click the photo button
I don't party
Or stay out late
I sit at home
Watching TV
Or better yet
Cuddling up with a good book
I don't waltz around
In revealing clothes
Hoping for a boyfriend
I don't act all bubbly
I cry and worry
I don't worry about boys
And dates
I worry about depression
And cutting and if my
Friends are really fine

I don't doodle or draw names on a binder
I write poetry on a site called helo poetry
And the only thing that upsets me
About that, is that I didn't find it sooner
Some things never change
    


      The circular stains on the ceiling above my 
heart shaped bed didn't exist under that rule

  Sometimes they *seemed
constant
           And sometimes that made me feel ok
            
        But other times, as I lay in bed,
            Somewhere near the halfway point between laying down and falling asleep,
       I stared up at them and they moved
         Left and right
Ellipsing each other,
    Becoming ovaloid in shape

Sometimes they simply flitted away, vanished


    I thought them gone,
But they continued to return.

They would not be so remorseless as to leave and not look back to see the blank space they had left.

     So my little circular stains stayed for a while.

    I was happy looking up in wonder at something I could never understand but never dared question.

   Until one day I simply wasn't. My interest in the stains steadily faded until I began to drift off on my side staring out the window, searching for owls I could hear but not see. These sounds made me hope.

They made me open the windows I had locked tight.
They made me breathe.
    
    Those sounds lull me to sleep even now.

*And I've stopped looking for the circles completely
I only wanted some
peace and serenity

With this gun to my head
I think I've found it

From the barrel to my brain
It takes away the pain

I'm scared to die but
Now there's no way around it
Wow I was dark back then...2007 maybe?
I fell inside this hole and it's too deep
I've climbed so long but it's too steep
I reached the top and now I'm alone
To get to you,
I've gotta fall back in the hole

If I drag you out
Will you run away
If I stand you up
I don't expect you to stay

But if I save you before I save myself
I'll resent you and still be on that shelf
In my dress
          In my rouge
                    In my heels
And glassy eyes
Cuz I don't know how to feel

I hide behind the mask cuz it's easy
I say I love you and you believe me
I stare blankly at the world
That's how they stare at me
No one understands
I'm not who I'm supposed to be

My time has come and gone
I can't forgive the wrongs
I know I tried too hard. . .
Just wanted to sing my songs
2006 I think...I don't even know now what it's supposed to mean.
I saw forever in your eyes. . .


                Then you closed them.
Wrote this when I found out my husband was in love with another woman.
I try to catch my words like fireflies
and store them in a jar.
I cannot.
Whenever I lift the lid to speak again,
the jar talks to me...
And off they fly.

In the silence,
inspired thoughts
make pleas for their own release.
Within moments
they are captured by another,
no longer mine.

Anything but silence is futile
when it comes to liberating
the true meaning of my fireflies.
I come to life
when the rain stops
and the sun
fires a light in me

my pearly heart
beats happily
swaying with the wind's song

your life would be forever long

I glisten in the belief

a raindrop on a leaf
inspiration: my cover photo
Next page