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Illya Oz Sep 2016
Twin towers up so high
Who know they'd fall from the sky
Fifteen years ago
A tragedy that we all know
So many died
And so many cried
Now all can do is remember the dead
We think what can not be said
May we all remember 9/11
Illya Oz Apr 2018
A life without gender.
Giving me my freedom that was taken.
End to my imprisonment by gender roles.
No I am not mistaken.
Don't ask me if I'm a girl or a boy.
Either is just not me.
Rather I am a person, a human being that is free.
I identify as agender meaning I don't have agender. I'm not a girl, I'm not a boy, I'm not anything inbetween, I'm just kinda... Me.
I hope that one day people of all different gender identities can be accepted and treated equally within society, because even after all the labels and categories we put ourselves in, we are all humans and no one deserves anymore or anyless them anyone else.
Illya Oz Jul 2016
A girl sits on a park bench
Her head back looking at the sky
Hair waving gently in the breeze
Her old summer dress hanging loosely
On her small frame

Many people walked past her
Happy family's going to have picnics
Friends laughing and smiling together
People by themselves
Going about their peaceful lives

Not a single person stopped
Not even giving the girl a second glance
They seemed not to have seen
That she was far to skinny
Or the faded lines upon her skin

It's not that they ignored her
They were just so naive
They didn't know the signs
No one taught them to recognize
What was there before their eyes

So when the girl stood up
And walked right out the park
They did not stop her
And did not know
That this day would be her last
They need to teach more about mental health in schools. So many death could be prevented if people just know how to recognize things like depression and what to do about it.
Illya Oz Jul 2016
<
The light bulb flickers and then goes out
Just when you think its gone for good
It stutters back on
Its bright light spreading across the room once again
>
The girl suffers, struggling to stand tall
Just when she has fallen
And you think she's down for the count
She gets back up with a smile to show all

<
You know that one day the light won't turn back on
And the room will be filled with darkness
Until the day you buy another
Replacing the old with something brand new
>
You know that one day she will not get back up
And she will be defeated and lost.
Until the day that you decide to help her up
Out of the sympathy in your heart

<
But the new bulb will never be quite the same
It will always be a slightly different shade of light
Never quite as bright as it use to be
>
But the girls smile will never be quite the same
It will always have a slightly different feeling behind it
Never quite as big as it use to be


^
**But just because its different
Doesn't mean we don't love it just as much
It's special in its own unique way.
There is no way a replacement could ever be the same,
So you shouldn't expect it to be
After going through a hard time you can't expect every thing to be the same as it use to be.
Illya Oz Sep 2016
If the lizards tail
Is to ever be cut off
It always grows back
Even if things in your life hit you hard and try to break you down, you must still keep growing to keep living.
Illya Oz Jun 2018
I can feel someone's hands inside my abdomen,
Holding all my vital organs in those hands,
And squeezing till I feel like I might burst.
They have their hands around my throat,
So that I can't speak, can't move, can't breathe.
Until there is no way I could ever escape from them.
Anxiety isn't just mental, it becomes such a strong physical feeling that sometimes I don't even realise I'm anxious until I feel the  tightness in my stomach or the blockage in my throat.
Illya Oz Apr 2018
The insomniatic somnolence coats me.
16kHz of sound running through my eardrums.
Empty words written on the walls of bathroom cubicals.
The lifes of people who come and go,
Snagged on the emtpy soap dispensers.

***** lino floors folded at the edges.
The rattling sounds of doors locking around me.
Plastic seats flipped down to carry weights,
Of the people who come to just sit down.
The rusted hinges on doors I can't seem to leave through.

This is both my prison and my safety.
I'm sitting in cubical of my school bathrooms because I'm too anxious and depressed to go to class. The door to the bathrooms gets locked during class time so now I'm stuck in here
Illya Oz Apr 2018
When you say you want to die,
I want to say 'me too',
But I can't,
Because you're only eleven.

When you ask about the scars on my arm,
I tell you it happen by accident,
So not to give you any ideas,
Because you're only eleven.

When you cry and I hold you tight,
I tell you a lie,
That everything is going to be ok,
Because you're only eleven.

When I cry I cover my eyes,
I don't want you to see my pain,
So I can help you deal with yours,
Because you're only eleven.

When things get to hard,
I want to keep you safe,
So you don't have to face the world alone,
Because you're only eleven.

When you say you want to die,
I promise to help you live,
And give you the support I never got,
Because I was only seven.
I still don't know how I feel about this poem. It's about me and my little brother (I guess mental illness must run in the family). I've always felt the conflict of what is the best thing to do when he tells me he wants to die. Do I be the strong older sibling or tell him I understand and have been through the same things (as a role model that can backfire really badly, it's hard to explain). I still don't know what the right thing to do is and I don't think I ever will
Illya Oz Apr 2018
Fingers sliding across my skin
Bu-dum bu-dum bu-dum
Like a car over speed bumps

Red beads on my wrist
Meaningless memories
I've tried to leave behind

Rainbow Vains
To clear the lack of colour
Tell me when it rains

The creases flowing rivers
Crisscrossing on their journey
Pulled along by strings of fate

Calluses sparce on thin skin
Protection against the common
On this irregular sphere
This poem started off because I was getting hung up over my scars. I've been self-harm free for just over 2 years now but I still don't feel recoverd. The urges went away for awhile but lately they have come back really strong and I'm really struggling to keep them in check.
Even if I do heal I'll always still be left with scars.
Illya Oz Sep 2016
I am I!

I scream to the sky
And do you want to know why?
Because too day is my day

When I get up in the morning
My hopes are up soaring
Like the birthday bird from Katroo

Today was the day of my birth
Without it I would have no worth
Because I would be an isn't

A day filled with happiness and joy
A day nothing bad could destroy
Even if someone tried

Because today I am me
And that is all I'll ever be
Today I'll make you see

I am I!
It was my Birthday the other day and it made me remember the book 'Happy Birthday To You! by Dr Seuss' I really like Dr Seuss's writing especially the quote “Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You.” from that book.
Illya Oz May 2018
How can you even start to express to someone that you want to watch yourself bleed...

That you want to rip open your own skin and feel the warmth trickel down you body.
Watching it seap out of you and slide across your skin.

How do you explain that this is a craving stronger then you could ever describe and ever so hard to resist.
That this red liquid is able to quench your metaphorical thirst for emotional relief.

How can you explain that that it helps...
That in some twisted way the pain makes everything hurt less.

How do you explain to them that it scares the living hell out of you,
That this is something you can do to yourself,
That this is something you want to do to youself.
The knowing that even after so many years you still crave it,
And you don't think you will ever stop craving it.

How can you explain to them that you don't want them to think you're crazy.
That it just hurts too much for you to bare.
That you are trying to bare it but the pain you feel inside is too much.

That the fact that you can't see this pain scares you,
that others can't see your pain scares you,
That you don't even understand this pain scares you.
And maybe this is why you crave watching yourself bleed.

It's a pain you can see,
A pain that others can see,
A pain you can understand,
But now that you see the pain you understand that you don't want others to see it.
Because how could you even beguin to explain.


How could I ever beguin to expain to you that I want to watch myself bleed...
I heard a line in a slam poem recently about someone with an eating disorder which really resonated with me. "I consider myself recoverd but still talk about my eating disorder in present tense."
I am 2 years 'recoverd' from self-harm, yet many days I still battle with the 'addiction'. Everyday is a question of 'Will today be the day I relaps', 'Will I be strong enought to fight it today.' Yet I don't talk about it. Most people just don't understand and I don't know how to explain it. I don't want their sympathy, the way they look at you like if they say something your going to shatter like glass. I don't think I will ever truly recover from my self-harm, it will stay with my for as long as my scars do, a lifetime.
Illya Oz Sep 2016
White
The only colour around him
White walls
White ceiling
White people

Red
The colour of blood
The colour of the hair
That ran down her shoulders
Red

The red scared him
It scared him more than the white did
The same colour that invaded his nightmares
And tortured his mind with memories
That would never be forgotten

Red was her colour
she was the nightmares
she was the memories
she was his torturer

Black was his colour
He was the dark shadows
He was a wild animal
He was her plaything

She controlled him
Left him lost and helpless
Filled him with fear and doubt
She drove him insane
Illya Oz Sep 2016
When my day is feeling gray
And my mind is in disarray
I look outside
Only to find
A blue butterfly
Fluttering through the sky

When I saw the blue
Of its wings as it flew
It brought a smile to my face
As its wings flap with grace
It brings happiness in its wake
And many friends does it make*
Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ
For my friend Kirashma, who is always so kind and friendly and always makes people happy just like the blue butterfly.
Illya Oz Jul 2016
Often the ones who hate themselves the most,
Are the very same people who are the most loving.
They give out their love like giving bread to birds,
They throw it all away and forget to keep any for themselves.
That is why it is up to us to give them some of our bread,
no matter how stale,
To those amazing people who have nothing left to eat.
This poem is written for my best friend who is always their for me when I need her
Illya Oz Oct 2016
To not let them win

They said not to give them a reaction
To not get angry or yell
Because that's what they wanted
Then they would just go away

So I did

I didn't give them a reaction
And I was only ever nice to them
Eventualy they did get board
And they did go away

But they had still won

They were the only ones
That could have been my friends
Without them I was by myself
Sitting alone while they forgot me

I had still lost
Illya Oz Apr 2018
A million centipedes are crawling under my skin.
I've killed all the plants in my mind's garden.
Waterlogged with saline as I try to dehydrate my face.
But I'm not prepared when they come out to play.
They climb up the hypertrophic ladders on my skin.
Clawing at me while I rip off all their anthropomorphic legs.
They seep poison into my bloodstream that contaminates my brain.
It leaves me helpless.
Illya Oz Oct 2016
Are children really so childish
Aren't they only just discovering what they wish
They should be protected from all their fears
And not have to shed so many tears
They should be able to let their imaginations run wild
Without their innocence ever being defiled
They should be able to be free
Not to worry about the waves of the deep blue sea
Can't we all just protect them
so nothing can ever hurt them
"Our children are our greatest treasure. They are our future. Those who abuse them tear at the fabric of our society and weaken our nation."
- Nelson Mandela (22 November 1997)
Illya Oz Oct 2016
You know about the clowns
With their terrible sounds
Terrifying the city
And thinking the're witty

I hold be breath
Because they scare me to death
They hide in the trees
Can they not please

They use to make me laugh
Now on my behalf
Please tell them to leave
Before All Hallows' Eve
Since October started the clowns have started appearing everywhere, starting in the U.S. and now in many different countries all around the world. I for one am never going to go outside after dark again in fear of them. To all those people out there dressing up as clowns and scaring people, on behalf of me and many others, i must respectfully ask you to 'Please Leave'
Illya Oz Jun 2018
When something is so hot that is makes you realise how cold you are...
Illya Oz May 2018
I didn't write my essay...

Because in a room of silence,
Everything feels so loud.
My brain is screaming at me to run away,
Like the paper in front of me has claws and teeth,
Just waiting to tear me apart.
I want to tear it apart.

I can feel it bubbling and boiling up my throat,
Suffocating me so the anxiety can breath.
But I can't breath.
When did this silence become so deafening?
I had a SAC (a very important test) yesterday. I've had a really bad depressive episode for the past week, not able to concentrate in class and kept telling my teacher I was fine. I wrote 3 sentences for an essay that was ment to be 600+ worlds long because I was so anxious. I wrote this poem on the back on my essay. I wonder what my teacher is going to say.
Illya Oz Dec 2016
Your words hurt
I hope you know
They cut like knives
I told you so

Your worried about the scars
that we leave on our skin
But yours are the ones
That lie deeper within

Your are our role models
Of whom we seek to make proud
So please think
Before you shout so loud

What you say is
"For your protection"
Isn't how you
should show affection

You look at us with anger
And excuses so wild
Sometimes I have to wonder
Who is the child?

Please don't yell
Show that you care
Please encourage us
And give us our share

Please be the adult
And don't cuss
And please, oh please
Tell us that you love us
Illya Oz Jul 2016
Making friends is hard to do
But I think I've made one in you
As friends we are all set
Even though we've never meet

I knew you before I knew your face
Getting to know you feels like a race
You are so friendly, amazing and kind
Your good qualities aren't hard to find

I can't wait to hear more from you
Keeping in touch I will certainly do
This is a poem I made for my penpal who lives in Japan.
Illya Oz Sep 2016
I call you a brick
Because your head is to thick
To comprehend what I'm saying

Your opinion is like a wall
And your brain is just too small
To change your point of view

You are not always right
Everything is not so black and white
You can change what you think

Is it all in you mind
Or are you just so blind
That you can't see the truth

It's OK to be wrong
To not be so headstrong
And be like everyone else

Have a change of heart
Because thats what makes you smart
So learn to keep a open mind

*Don't be a brick
Recently me favorite insult had been to call someone a brick, as in that someone is like a brick wall and won't change their opinion. I just wanted to say that it's ok to be proven wrong, it just means that you learnt something new.
Illya Oz Jul 2016
"Please don't leave"

She just gives me a look
But thats all she needs
To show all her feelings

"How can I be leaving
if i was never really here
in the first place"*

Her voice filled with sadness
As she turns away
Walking with sure steps

I watch her back
As she walks out the door
Tears rolling down my face
Illya Oz Dec 2016
To not let them win

They said to not give them a reaction
To not get angry
because that's what they wanted
Then they would just go away

So I did

I didn't give them a reaction
And I was only ever nice to them
And they did get bored
and when away

But they had still won

They were only ones
that could've been my friends
Without them I was by myself
Sitting all alone while they forgot me

I had still lost
This was what happened to me when I was in primary school and I spent many years at school alone untill high school where I have meet many wonderful friends. But from my experiences I have leant that it is not always useful for children to follow the advice adults give them.
Illya Oz Jan 2017
Falling

Falling forever downwards
Into a hole that just grows
Deeper and deeper
And darker and darker

Digging

Digging my hole deeper
With every mistake I make
Every time I mess up
Every time I hurt someone

Crying

Crying tears fall from my eyes
The shame and embarrassment
Saying sorry is not enough
For me to be forgiven

Remembeing

Remembering every mistake I made
No matter how small they are
Or how bad my memories is
They will never stop replaying in my mind

Begging

Begging for forgiveness
For things they probably don't remember
And that probably don't care about
But they need to know that I do

Hoping

Hoping that one day they will forgive me
And that I will forgive myself
For the things that create my hole
And then mabey I will stop...

Falling
I always seem to get hung up on every little thing I do wrong or was yelled at about. I will spent hours lying awake in bed remembering and feeling bad about something I did two years ago.
Illya Oz Dec 2016
It's nice to see you
Where've you been
I want to know
What's been happening

I can't help but think
It's been awhile
I've missed you a load
Especially your smile

There are so many things
I want to share
Your might even need
To pull up a chair

I'm so, so sorry
I have been gone so long
I really missed this place
Where I will always belong
Sorry I have not posted anything for ages, I have been really busy and not had the time. But I have saved up many poems that I'm going to post them soon. It feels good to be back :)
Illya Oz Jun 2018
And if my lungs continue to suffocate me,
I will let it over take me.
I will just close my eyes,
And maybe someone will hear me say goodbye.
Illya Oz Jul 2016
I lie
I know I do
And that you do too
I lie about things that matter
I lie so that people won't chatter
I lie to feel that I am blameless
I lie but am still not shameless

When I was 5 I was a lier
I stole chocolates from my mother
Then I told her it was my brother

When I was 10 I was a lier
I did not do what I should have
But I said it was all I could have

Now I'm 15 and am still a lier
My friends ask me why I don't smile
I tell them that it's just my style

I do not want to be like this
I wish I could say what is true
I wish that I could breakthrough
This web of lies
To do so would be unwise
I'm far too deep within this hole
And the time has taken its toll

*But I lie because I'm scared
Of what people might think
If they knew what I do when they blink
Illya Oz Sep 2016
We belong together
Me and you
I can feel it
In what we do

Our hands don't fit
Together quite right
It wasn't love
At first sight

I won't always be there
But what ever I do
Still know that
I love you
Illya Oz Apr 2018
I miss you,
But I know you don't.
I wish you would,
But I know you won't.

I miss your (pained) smile,
And the way that you walked.
The way you (never) really,
Listened when I talked.

I miss the words your said,
Your advice I would (never) need.
How when we walked,
You would always (make me) lead.

I miss the way you (didn't) acknowledge me,
How you were always three steps ahead.
The way you would (never) hug me,
No matter what I said.

I miss you,
And I will forever.
It's ok if you forget me,
As I know our bond will never sever.
Ever since I was 7 my older brother has suffered from a type of OCD that is contamination oriented and unfortunately their OCD sees me as the source of the contamination. Because of this I have not been able to see my brother or have contact with them for over 2 years and even before that we had a very strained relationship. This poem is about the feeling of both loving and hating someone but still missing them for both reasons.
Illya Oz Jul 2016
I hear the creaking of a door in my mind.
I couldn't help but feel inclined,
To look behind,
And see what I might find.

But I did not think,
that it would be my well of ink.
I couldn't help but make a link,
To an old kitchen sink.

When I saw that inkwell,
I needed to quell,
The fear that fell,
Upon me as my very own barbell.

I knew what it mean,
And that it was not its intent,
To torment,
But I wish that it would relent.

So I could just spend,
Sometime to amend,
And apprehend,
The part of me that has reached a dead end.
'Kitchen sink' is a reference to the song by twenty one pilots that I recently listened to.
Illya Oz Dec 2016
You see their grey
But you look away
You pretend not to see
You ignore their silent plea
Your eyes make contact
But you don't react
Their lost in an ocean
Trying try not make a commotion
Shunned by life
It cuts like a knife
Their love forgotten
Their mind all rotten
Leaving only anger and sadness
Bottles up inside the madness

Don't look away
You can see their gray
Do not ignore
Help them sore
Let them fly away
And don't forget to say

*I See You
To all those people who feel alone and forgotten, please know that you are seen, you are remembered, you will be missed if you disappear becuase there are people who care and one day you will meet one of them so just try and wait till then.
Illya Oz Apr 2018
Am I forgotten
Or did I forget
I left this place
And didn't turn back

So much old poetry here
Such a naive younger self
It's been only a year
But nothing feels the same

When did I forget how to smile
When did breathing become so hard
When did I stop caring that I cared too much
When did my poetry become start to sound like a cry for help

I'm not remembered
There is no one left to remember
It's been a year
And now I'm back
Hey, I was an active user on here a year ago but left (i don't even remember why). I've started using instagram to post my poetry but recently it's gotten too dark for me to share with the people who follow me there, so of course now I'm back here to vent my frustations on a poetry wesite where no one remembers me. Hello I'm Chase, it's nice to meet you.
Illya Oz Sep 2016
I wonder

Is the sun jealous of the moon
Or the fork of the spoon
Does the pencil envy the pen
Just a little, now and then

Does the tree begrudge the flower
Or the minute of the hour
Does the computer resent the phone
Because it has to stay at home

I wonder
Illya Oz Jul 2016
You've known me all my life
So why can't you accept me
I can feel you watching me
Judging me for being me

I'm still the same person
I haven't changed at all
But yet you treat me differently
Like someone you don't know

I no longer feel so open
Like I need to hide
To not show you the parts of me
That you know are there

I thought I could trust you
I thought that you cared
I thought you would still love me
The same way you did before

But I was wrong
And I still don't understand
Why you can't let me be me
And show you who I am
Some people just need to be more open and accepting to new things. That way everyone can express themselves to the fullest and be who they truly are.
Illya Oz Oct 2016
Some people live their entire lives without ever seeing the light
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Not because they can't, but because they refuse to even try
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
Don't stay in the darkness
Illya Oz Apr 2018
You called me cupcake
Because that's all you saw
The sweetest parts of me
Not the the scars that I bore

I will call you a lion
Because of the strength in your heart
You were always so brave
So caring, so smart

But now we have both turned to mice
Too scared to fight our wars
Because you are not longer mine
And I not longer yours

This is not what I wish
Disassociated from you
Without a word spoken
To much isolation for two

I want you to know
That I still love you
Just not the way...
I use to

I want to talk
I want to speak
I want you to smile 
So my world isn't so bleak

Just because your not 
My whole world any more 
That doesn't mean I don't 
Need you to be part of it
This is a repost of a poem I wrote in october of 2016. I had broken up with my significant other (for reasons that weren't their fault) but i still cared a lot about them and didn't want to lose them. They ignored me for almost 3 months after that but eventually we became close again and they are now my best friend (we are in a queer platonic relationship for all those who know what that is). I was so scared of them disappearing from my world and didn't know if i could live without them. They are the most amazing person I know and I'm so lucky to have them still in my life. I love them so much, even if i will probably never show them these poems.
Illya Oz Jun 2018
Sometimes meanings just get lost in translation,
Whether it's from Japanese to English,
Or simply from my thoughts to my words.
Illya Oz Jul 2016
There is mask I wear to cover my face,
A mask that I can never replace.
I know my mask will keep me hidden,
From showing my feelings that should be forbidden.

When tears fall from my eyes,
My mask will only show lies.
Sometimes I wish I could to be true,
And show people that they haven't got a clue.

But later I know it is all worthwhile,
When I can finally show my real smile.
Illya Oz Jul 2016
There was a young boy
A child as lost as one could be
He did not know who he was
Or his reason to be

The boy found a room
The room had no purpose
No reason to be
But it was still there
Like it was just meant to be

In the room he found a mirror
The mirror had no point
No reason to be
But it was still there
Like it just didn't even care

Above the mirror he found a sign
The sign had no explanation
No reason to be
But it was there
Like it just belonged

On the sign he found writing
The words had no meaning
No reason to be
But they were still there
Like they were just meant to be read

The boy read the writing
Trying to find an answer
To find who it was
That made him feel so lost

But after reading that writing
Upon the sign that belonged
Above the mirror that didn't care
In the room that was meant to be
He no longer needed to find an answer

The boy who turned away
From the mirror that didn't care
And walked out
Of the room that was meant to be

He what not lost
But all so not found
He was someone with a purpose
Someone who had found meaning to their life
He knew what he had to do


*'The mirror will reflect your greatest enemy' read the sign
“But the worst enemy you can meet will always be yourself" - Friedrich Nietzsche 1844-1900
Illya Oz May 2018
The crunching sound of glass under the sole of my shoe.
The gentle bend as the metal frames twisted unrecognisably.
Fragments littering the cement around me.
For what purpose did I need them.

Walking away.
Dread and edrenaline mix together.
Jumping at my own shadow.
Yet no longer having to look at the world.

No longer having to see it.
But still stuck inside it.
Standing behind the retina.
Behind the same distorted lenses.

Shame.
Longing.
Blind.
Lost.
I actually purposefully stepped on my glasses once. It was one of the worst days of my life, that I almost never talk about. I was depressed anxious and desperate to escape my life so without any thought or planning I ran out my house. Somewhere along the way my brain through it would be a brilliant idea of crush my glasses to pieces. Lets just say that by the end of that night i ended up in the hospital and i learnt what shame truly is.
*note - Myopia is the technical name for being short sighted*
Illya Oz Jan 2017
Stop using me as an excuse
To make them feel disrespected
Don't tell me what I'm feeling
Just becuase you think I'm neglected

You say that "Now she knows
What it's like from your point if view"
But may I please ask
What does this have to do with you

Stop telling them that they are a sinner
Becuase to understanding you are a begginer

They live life as best they can
So what if they want to be a man

Just because they have
Changed their birth name
Doesn't give you reason to ignore
the challenges they overcame

Your say you love them
But I find that has to believe
You may be old and wise
But you are still so naive

You wanted to change them back
But what's done is done
You may have lost a granddaughter
But you gained a grandson
Not long a ago my brother (use to be sister) came out as transgender. This was not taken well by some of the family, especially my grandperants, who now use ever chance they get to make them feel rejected. I find it so unfair that anyone gets treated like this for just being themselves. Everyone (especially my grandperants) neeed to be more open minded and just accept people for who thay are no mater of gender, sexuality, race, religion or age.
Illya Oz Oct 2016
Someone once told me that pain is an illusion
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But that doesn't mean you can't feel it
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What reality is isn't important
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It's that way you perceive it
Illya Oz Apr 2018
The the words whizzing around my head,
A swarm of bees around my ears,
So loud I can't think,
I'm sorry what did you say?
Sometimes I'm silently freaking out in the middle of a conversation and if feels like I can't concentrate on anything or hear what anyone is saying.
Illya Oz Sep 2016
Many paper cranes
Bringing peace throughout the world
Flying through the sky
I have always liked the story of Sadako and the Thousand Paper Cranes so I started making 1000 paper cranes. I'm up to 250 now and have 750 to go. BTW Sorry if my haiku *****.
Illya Oz Sep 2016
Sometimes I find I can't think
So I decide to write in ink
I'll write a few lines
In the form of rhymes

Hoping for my emotions
To be expressed
The feelings that refuse
To be oppressed

So I post them online
No matter the time
Hoping my word
Can and will be heard
Illya Oz Sep 2016
A gun brings scarlet
A rose the colour of blood
Too many lives lost
There is too much conflict and war in the world that all lead to the loss of life. It needs to stop.
Illya Oz Apr 2018
I bloom from the blossoming trees of spring,
Still young, not really knowing anything.

I'm kissed by the summer breeze,
They are trying to warm what will eventually freeze.

The a sweet autumn gusts ******* off trees,
It's no surprise I would fall with such ease.

The winter has similer tones,
But instead chills me to my bones.
Illya Oz Oct 2016
I scream and shout
But nothing comes out
I cry and shed tears
But none will appear
So I'll shout some more
Until it starts to pour
Then I'll stand in the rain
And let go of this pain
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