Walk slowly down the street
on the cold hard concrete,
with houses along the side,
and cars out for a drive.
Fire Hydrants that sit,
and mail boxes that stand.
And so many plants
put in this world by hand.
Nothing beats the beautiful.
The poise stance, the soft pink,
and the puff of the flower.
The Cherry Blossom.
Catching the attention and
arises positive thinking by the
neighborhood crowd.
The tree is rare
but the wandering strangers attention is allowed.
To eye,
the Cherry Blossom.

Walk by alone,
or have people by the side.
The picnic bench is one that is relied.
To be a go-to place no matter
the situation.
Put on a red and white table cloth,
have a picnic,
choose your recreation.
Walk over and put your foot on the bench.
Make a phone-call,
or sing in the rain and get drenched.
Have a date see how it goes,
the people who come by change,
but the picnic bench knows
it has nowhere else to go.
A necessity that people are unaware.
Since the limit is six,
lucky seven,
pull up a chair.
Light a candle in this dark summer night.
We have food, a fire pit that is cooking,
a guitar, marshmallows to roast, friendship,
and this picnic bench makes it all right.

What's on, what's there
What can't be touched.
What we think makes others beware.
Beware who we are on the inside.

Acne is the unfortunate
addition that causes the poor
young soul to lack,
confidence,
self-esteem,
and pride.

Stop.
You are beautiful.
You need to forget.
Acne is on everyone
You have nothing to regret.

So they judge,
so they criticize.
Secretly pointing out the
pink,
scattered,
stand-out surface
on what used to be
a bare and beautiful face.

Stop.
Every face is beautiful,
but never bare.
Stay optimistic in your attitude.
Look them in the eye,
wink,
and smile when they stare.

You're still and will always be you.
Only your heart speaks the truth.
Of how you create and what is part of
who you are.
Whether broken out or not,
you never
stop being
a beautiful, young,
star.

Don't ever know the tide,
just by looking.
Do I dare go aboard?
Can I keep this friendship sailing?
By the comfort of my ocean,
near the dock at my home.
The ocean remains,
so theres always new sailors to
bond with.
So I'll get to know you
since when I'm alone on my sunfish
I see you on your opti.
Before you get on my ship
I'll bond with you
like we sailors do
and together we sail away
as friends.

Throw away the negative thoughts,
I now stopped beating myself up.
I find some good make-up
to cover up my black and blue
all over my face.
I choose to think of comedians
forgetting the drama queens.
Be honest but never
******* myself.
Optimistic
is what I will
and what you
can now call me.

So the incident,
intimidates and consoles.
Will never beat the water
that comes from nowhere
and rolls.

For the mind can only focus
on who will come next.
Not the jealous humans
to say and rant,
but the wave to wash over,
we wake up,
and we pant.

Refusing to care about others
rude needs.
See the ocean,
this is what Poseidon
really has to offer
and what he feeds.
Giving the mind a chance
to break
free.

Stress has its place,
but the ocean is where we
say to the disruptive stress,
"You're not for me."

They see me alone all the time.
They wonder, they judge, and they criticize.
They worry, give in, and think they are the ones I am to rely.
But they must know
I am just fine.
Who do I bother? Why do they care?
I feel so
confident, independent, contempt and strong.
I go out into the world alone
I do nothing wrong.
To them, that is a DARE.
I'm alive, I'm here,
I have self-security, I have no fear.
Though a butterfly must travel alone
to find the right place
and to settle and roam.
Then they may not be friends,
but saying hi is always worth a try.
I have not died.
I live in a way that is a concern,
but when they see what I can do, they learn.
How independence is gifted
from the heart.
Avoidance is a move
that can be very smart.
They see I show up,
in shock,
let them be.
I'm alive is what they get
by the presence of me.
Everyday and the future
is not going anywhere.
Because now,
I'm alive.
I must  be productive and wise.
I'll do what I want,
and if I'm alone, I'll do it.
I'll go.
So I dare.

Define nobody,
label not a soul.
To deal but not to bow,
is every psychological goal.

Go through hell once, try to let go and forget.
The others come in, and there's the upset.
I'll be the bigger person, that job is done.
When it comes to getting praised and credit,
there is none.
Never knowing our right place.
You don't even have to say it to my face.
We are smart enough to find out what is said about me and everyone else there is no doubt.
But as the days go on,
and more is discussed as we say it and talk,
we forget who and what the problem is really about.
I walk this place alone, no problem there.
But you putting this weight on my shoulders creates you into being unfair.
There is no blame.
I feel no shame.
Since I said what I needed and did what I had to do,
and I handled with such maturity, discipline, strength and even,
I did everything and was very sane.
I won the game.
However, even if you are still very ******* and horrified at what I did and if you don't agree, you have no reason to.
But I will be civil on you.
But for now on, let my decisions be up to me.
Where I go shall be seen in my eyes .
Perhaps my independence
will represent what you heard from the other side.
They were lies.
False criticisms, endless battles, force, and belief in no point of view but our own.
I may have frustration, anger, and obsessive talk,
but I have kindness to loan.
I have the right to lift off and release this pushing weight.
It's about the problem
not a persons annoying trait.
We all learned from this falling out,
even though I never received my apology.
I am over this and I didn't lose anything.
I can still breathe.
You learned so much from me.
Now, I understand everything, but I am not sorry.
I have words put in my mouth.
I have depression in my body and my head.
It's time for you to understand
the words that I said.
Now thank you for noticing
how I struggled with this weight on my shoulders.
Very heavy indeed.
I felt this weight that you all put on me went in and through my muscles and it effected me mentally.
It's now your turn to feel it.
And take in and accept your doing in this falling out that occurred.
You cannot let it push you down,
and you cannot let it make you trip.
So now,
you feel the pain I dealt with.
And even though I forgive without any sorrow,
I see now,
that you get it. I am right indeed, and you know
why I did it.

Look at me like I'm a child.
Difficult,
immature,
And gets crazy
and wild.
My blue eyes look back at all of you
and say I just want to be,
treated fairly like everyone else.
So what's your problem with me?
Is it my attitude?
Is it my peculiar personality that keeps ascending?
Never will I appreciate
your talking down at me
and your being condescending.
Now will you give me a chance?
Or would you rather ignore?
I will take a walk on this beach alone,
so when it's all to getting what we want,
you'll get it more.
Not that you havn't already
pushed me out the door.
May I come back?
Will you accept me how I am now?
Will I ever be one you adore?

I cuddle my blanket
while alone in my dark cold room.
It was given to me when I was born,
never knowing it would be needed
Today.
You want me to let go
getting rid of it will never occur.
It is my blanket, my decision.
I bother nobody while I hug
and hold it to my heart.
I'm depressed.
I'm in rage.
I'm angry.
Nobody listens to me ever.
When you do,
please don't debate.
We may not always be having love
but we do not need hate.
So give me my blanket.
I'll keep it with me.
It's up to my heart to work
and let you see.
My great fullness,
Wisdom, and knowledge.

Don't be shy,
just go fly over,
to the pink flower that does nothing to you.
For you, provide the pollen and sweet perfume.
Hummingbird, it's just a photograph being taken.
How could I ever hurt you?
Just to stare out the big window
to watch you at the rosebush.
Your pointy scrawny beak,
big, yellow eyes ,
show how aware you are to your potentially dangerous surrounding.
Olive green feathers,
and your small, petite physique.
Display your confidence.
Now I'll just take a photo now
because representation of nature
is what you show and deserve.
You are beautiful, Hummingbird.

When we devote our heart to what
phases and appalls us,
we leave no room in our hearts and
sit alone waiting on the people of our
dreams.
So many times we take morality and
mold it into our sculpture of opinion.
We take the image of the natural beauty
our friends arrive to take us and photoshop
beauty queens, anorexic girls, naked men,
and clear skinned bashful humans.
We look the way we do,
but we’re not done yet.
Split ends are the representation of a
woman who works hard to earn her
dream and live her destiny one day.
A teenager with blemishes enters the
school doors and cracks quirky jokes
and makes an eight grade girl laugh;
she who is fourteen and feels no inferiority
despite her flat chest and gap tooth.
He is not the fat boy who everybody loves,
he is a human being and is here for the same
reason any model,
rockstar,
dancer,
athlete,
actor,
and Olympian is here
today.
Can we look the way we do and feel as if
we need no photoshop on what is really on
us?
It’s all about
what is
in us.

Those who give nasty looks
Choose to be rude
They read bad books.

Looking with dragon eyes
Knowing as they accuse
They hold the lies.

So look at me cross-eyed
So you dare.
Based on your integrity lacking
I do not care.

I look at you back
With a face in repair.
My eyes are strong
And they tell you,
So there.

I'm thinking of how I return to the spot in the disco ball moonlight
and I'm catching my breath.
I always noticed people who are uptight
using humor as a mask.
This masquerade is filled with gowns of glitter
and tuxedos of black and white.
We dance, we chat, we drink our beloved manhattan and gin.
I'm more than excited to be at the masquerade,
Though I'm hit by past behavior of craziness and belting profanity.
I didn't mean it.
Just want everyone focused on my glitter so I now still wear a mask.
Can we still dance?
Can I have one more drink?
Can they learn to move forward?
Behavior is like a masquerade.
Dress to perfection, and don't drink too much or you'll end the night with humiliation and grief.
Play with your boa but don't chase if it doesn't catch his eye.
Don't lay a hand on her if she refuses a dance with you.
Be kind to the others at the ball.
Smile and whatever is hurting inside,
put a mask on it.
We don't need to ruin everyone's time at the wonderful masquerade.
Some may or may not
Forget.

This stress goes on,
I can't remember what happiness is supposed to feel like.
Neither the cranium, the heart,
so I can just pretend.
To sound optimistic after
saying hi after a while.
But I can only protect myself.
Can never be used.
So to those who got everything.
The pictures are all around.
I'll get my happiness back someday.
I'll smile without cringing afterwards,
and laugh without going insane.
I may be different.
I am no harm.
I am glad you have your happiness still
since when it comes to moving on
you have it easy.
I do not. I don't forget.
I remind myself
then I hate myself.
But why do I get the hate?
Don't I deserve to be happy again?
Give it back to me right now.
But you can't.
Only I can be the director of my feelings.
And I will cast my happiness
back in my play.
And my life will not be a drama of hurt
but a drama and comedy of
where I deserve to be
and what I work hard for.
Thus not earned,
but taken.
Happiness is deserved by all
and can't be bought.
So think of what is there.
Smile.
I'm going to be happy. :)

It's never mind versus body,
It's never naked versus thinking,
How we stare at our project,
Put in a pill to clear the head.

Chemicals that slow me down
Physically.
Carbons that make me think
quickly.
You are right.

For my mind to be wise
And my baggage to be open carefully,
I'll find my concrete.

Run away.

From the possibilities that hurt,
Of who I'd potentially become,
Run and tire myself out of irritate.

But I can't
Run away
From you.

If you’re never going to love me,
and when you do, you’re not going
to do it right,
I appreciate your absence.
My heart has grown fonder for a
proper gentleman, not a lazy sloth
who can’t go out of his way for a
beautiful woman.
You lied,
you hurt,
you messed up,
you never got worked up,
for me to be in your sad pathetic
life.
Since I am gone and I know
you are too,
I only want you to love
yourself.
It is the best thing you can do right
now for you and for everyone around you.
Start with yourself
so you never
hurt another
woman.

Never will I consider anyone who admires me
a God.
Those who admire me thus not rare,
but not many have given their gifts and time to me.
Don't ever define me
by the plaid in my wardrobe,
guitar notes on my playlists,
black nail polish,
and the innocent jokes I create.
Find me the best you can.
To anyone who could never be satisfied through the ruins of my
nonsense,
know,
that there was a point,
you meant,
the world
           to me.

So I guess
I will
no longer need to
protect you.

Though the war
out in the strangest world
is mistaken,
misunderstood,
mislead.

So I can now
sense that you would like me
to let you go.
Not forever
but some space in between
you and me.

I am not going
to put my arms around you
anymore.

My protecting you
is past.
It's a new situation
now.

Minutes become hours,
hours form into days.
Days become useless as
I just wait and wait to hear
and see,
feel and touch,
laugh and cry with the people
I love.
Times change and so do others.
I have declared myself growing with
the room that is there.
Feedback is only said once.
Careful what you say,
maturity has no give and take,
it is a commitment.
I waited so long,
I am not dragging my feet anymore.
These jobs are playing hard to get
no matter how I feel comfortable
applying.
These people I love will have no
reason to play hard to get.
I am growing into an adult.
OH MY GOD,
it is coming.
Where will I be?
What am I going to do?
Do you agree this is what I am good at?
Will you still love me even if my mistakes and flaws
don't give you an opportunity to yell at me,
tell  me what to do,
lecture me,
and be superior?
Now look who is playing
hard to get.
Nobody gets
anymore excuses
from me.
Hello there.

I'll be where I belong someday.
Purple sky, red and green lights,
And the California sun rising up when I
Need the light the most.
I go through another falling out every **** year.
No primary and no old people I can go to.
Too many mutual idiots who adopt the ones I love and kick me out of the picture.
I'll take the photo
But I'm not the one who deletes it.
My heart and brain are my memory card filled with all the drama-less days of these **** cliques.
I can only make myself move on but
I cannot make you never exist again.
I get we move on but I don't know why I'm picked last.
It's either new people or other's who pretend they know and accept the real me.
It's just never how it used to be.
That's why I'm going to be in California getting away
From New Englanders who know me now.
Just let me grow first.
I suggest
You do
The same.

Putting feelings together of lust and desire are
the privilege and curse of having someone on your mind
and questioning yourself however you do and however insecure you feel.
Putting together the words and steps of how to approach and
spell out that you like them are the scariest and most skeptical
letters you will ever choose in your life.
Once you said them, they are gone from inside, and then taken care
of outside like the mother bears with their cubs and the rabbits with
their babies,
we knew there was something there, forgetting  the questions and thoughts.

Putting together a relationship makes you nothing but ambitious
and your eyes glitter, you look nowhere but up thanking the world
you are where you are, it is what it is, and you are who you are.
Putting together the days you will come together again are when you
lay in bed alone, and pray you will lay together soon again.
Putting together a life is crucial and emotional,
times change, so does everyone, and nothing lasts forever.
I love you, and I know you do too.

Being young not wanting to get old for the first time in my life,
I could never put anything together, pull myself together, or
mature if you and I were not together.
We will see where we go, this journey, this time, this phase,
this relationship,
I love being together with you, feeling your touch and your brown
eyes lock onto me, and your long black hair flowing in the wind,
you make me feel like a beauty queen whenever I feel like a disaster.
I feel you too and I see in your smile you feel like the king of the world
as I want you to.
Complications are conquerable, age is a number, time goes by, and how I
feel your warmth just by thinking how we can put things in place and grow
together,
we will have to see what happens,
I like this vision.

Face overcome with blemishes,
arms ruled with scars.
Criticized for holding
teddy bears
and lounging alone at bars.
This insecurity
has a story.
Something behind this fragile door.
Stop yourself before offering help
she wants
no
     more.
She is fragile
she is afraid.
She knows her mental illness
is nothing that she can trade.
Let her be.
She is fragile like glass.
She cries as it shatters
then she is better, alas!

I'm a Zebra look at me!
I'm white with black stripes
as you see.
Put your finger
in my
finger-puppet hole.
You can have
a puppet show!
But whatever you do,
don't break me.
I'm old and sensitive
as you see.

It's not my fault,
what I have that I deal with,
It's not my fault,
that I can't do anything right.
It's not my fault,
they give me a hard time.
But it will only be my own fault
when I shrink my temper.
I take the blame after every outburst.
What can I say?
Nobody wants anger
and I make it worse.
For everyone
and then me.

You do something alone
for the first time in your life.

So you have no one else.
so you have no one else.

You're paranoid, shaking, wanting ever so much to leave. Fearing something
tragic will happen and it will be the end of the world.

So you're scared.
So you're scared.

You look at everyone else. You feel so insecure like never before. Seems like they all know what they're doing.

So it seems.
So it seems.

So you begin your task, and you start to panic.

You think you can't.
You think you can't.

You cringe when someone comes to you. You then look them in the eye as you are frightened by their power. You admit that you are paranoid and in a scared stage.

You admit.
You admit.

They see where you are and they understand. And you have no need to be nervous.
Anything can be fixed. It's a leaning experience.
You relax and breathe in and out all the stress and negativity you made in your own head and skull.

Now, you have done this task. Next time you say you have done it before, and when you do it again you will say to yourself,

So you can
So you can.

There are too many songs
written about love.
What about putting ourselves first
and caring about security?
Can one be happy without a great
significant other?
Sure love is great.
I like the songs that are about
all the great complications.
Music beats any unpleasant noise.
The notes and lyrics beat any
whining.
Feelings are ignored since there is
too much and too many people to
deal with.
Listen to the music.
Not every message will be right for all.
Write your own music.
Express your feelings no matter the lack of common
share.
To the alternative acoustic who writes about their
newborn child.
For the rapper writing about the children in the neighborhood without a chance.
The opera singer who sings for when we let go.
The pop star who expresses the joy of being
single again.
And how about the rock star honoring their new electric guitar.
So many feelings,
so many meanings.
Forget the right and wrong.
Just listen, write, and feel.

My response for your care in my
reputation is
Thank you, but No Thank you.
Your way has seemed to calm the
rest of the people in the room to silence in
appall.
The criticism is too much.
My brain cannot think of anymore ways to change
on your behalf.
I understand my crazy qualities
are too intense for the age we hold according to you.
We are fourteen.
This is the age we both hold in our lives.
It is up to me to have fun while I can.
You are wasting precious time by growing up too
fast.
Seems that all you can tell me is what I did
wrong.
I see you are watching me
as if you have custody over me.
I am no child.
You are no more mature.
My heart breaks every time I see you.
I know our elders find it right but we know it is
wrong for us to be close.
I know this
by the blood flowing from my broken heart
as I walk the street from your house to mine.
There is a trail of blood that you will find
on your own since I am not permitted to say
I am hurt that you
admonished me.
You are no friend.
Control your jealousy.
I have not become the bad one
by abandoning you.
I find moving on a more effective way to admonish.
Be gone, be aware,
be no friend of mine.

Oops,
I forgot yesterday was your birthday.
And,
We haven't talked for over a year.
Well,
you were my good friend.
But,
We are gone from each other.
So,
I didn't wish you a happy birthday.
However,
I know you had cake.
Then,
Cut yourself a slice and eat it.
Because,
the gold crumbly cake with chocolate frosting is something you need.
Therefore,
You don't need me anymore.
Furthermore,
I am not your sweet cake that you can eat up and forget about.
And now,
I am better.

Well who doesn't feel lonely somedays?
Oh,
That's right.
Everyone.
Don't you ever think
This popularity contest
Isn't pushing my buttons.
Push the button that says
Accept
And I won't be insecure.
Or,
Push the button that says
Delete,
But it's been pushed so many times
By so many individuals.
To the few
Who are a part of my life
Congratulations.
Looks like you
Have pushed
The Start button.
So we start a friendship,
And begin a family.
The popularity button
Is one that is not pushed.
But it won't last.
It can break my machine.
So why bother?

Pop it in to cure and make me better,
but the side effects could **** me.
Sometimes I wish they would
to get me off this ******* depression.
I want to eat so bad
but food can only enlarge
the stomach I worked so *******.
Is it worth eating?
Or becoming satisfied?
I would rather they love me for my heart
as opposed to my beauty.
Beauty means pain,
and I already have plenty of pain
in my heart.
I don't even know if it's worth dealing with.
**** this place.

This is no ****-You,
this is no I-Hate.
I am not thanking you for any
memories.
I am not seeking revenge.
My head is no shelter,
I cannot keep you in my head
anymore.
My heart is no blanket.
I cannot keep you
tucked in.
Maybe I was wrong,
so I scared you away.
I am not hoping you will fall
to your knees and beg to come
back.
Whatever is meant, and whatever the choice is,
I'll be cool.
You were so beautiful as you stood before me.
Gazing and smiling right into my
eyes.
You saw the real me,
I see the real you.
Love now sounds hopeless,
friends sounds like something neither of us
gives a **** about.
The pain-in-the-*** I was
and the hell you and I went through.
And there were the sweet and lovely conversations.
Leave it.
It's over.
If it comes around once more onto my shoulders,
very well.
But I must let you go.
There's the door,
walk away,
and just be gone if that is what you want,
all I want is for you to be
happy.

This virtue
I have learned from your warmth
and understanding of my imperfections.
This time
who would ever know it would be this intriguing youre not here and I'm not there.
The anxiety
drilling disbelief in my head,
when I think of you and hear your voice in my head,
hope and belief in this love pours itself and cements the holes in my mind.
Avid desire
to be beside you and tell you everything,
I want to hear everything from you and how you are.
It takes time to be together again, none of it would happen without the patience you taught me.
I look forward to seeing you again.

Nothing can last forever,
Not even the greatest improvement
achieved and done whatsoever.
Great bodies and reputations are a phase and
happiness is for a day,
looking at others who have
what I lost
is the stir of
the fray.

None of the pictures are to burn,
no memory is going to be in my
heart's urn.
Looks like we have a chance to
see others and take a different turn.
You sure were one to teach me about love,
and I know there are thousands of things
I helped you learn.
Love is something that comes along,
you don't wait to earn.
Relationships don't include
attitudes that are stern.
When they do,
let it go and with yourself
be firm.
Carry on,
don't yet start searching,
just
learn.

Abracadabra,
alakazoo,
set your heart
on a dream,
Shazam!
It comes true.
Do the trick on
you own
work hard all
day and all
night.
Life is magically
going just right.

The memory that dominated my time at the time
to take out my iPhone 6 and shoot an image
of whoever whatever wherever.
I sit at my computer and I look at all the pictures
and why we can’t have these moments again.
What did I do?
Was I mean?
Can we have it again?
Why not?
If you saw me crying this very moment as I type
these words on the same laptop I keep the photographs saved,
would you want to be saved as well to be a part of my life?
I will never try and make you stay,
I won’t beg,
but I continue to cry, for this is the power of a photograph.
Never thought I would want to belong so bad.
At least in a photo with us standing together and our
arms around each other,
I had it once,
and I know I’ll have it again.
Even if it isn’t you,
someone can help me.
You’ll be making new memories,
and I’ll be alone making a
collage of the photos I saved.
(Click)
This is me now,
alone.

You're sick of my actions,
I'm sick of your lies.
Sick of the fighting,
sick of everyone being
so uptight.
Sick of the disagreements
though they occur,
sick of the talking,
don't have to say a word.
Sick of the unfair,
sick of the unkind.
Sick of the immature,
sick of the impossible.
Sick of the narrow-minded,
sick of my mind
being indulged by
paranoia.

Perhaps something doesn't go well.
So what?
We are a world, we have each other
to help keep it spinning.

But we're sick of working.
So think twice before calling in sick.
Your'e needed.
Because we're sick of the quitting.

Where are you to hold me when I need you to?
Where are the understanding thoughts others have of my imperfections when I can't help myself either?
Why do the horrid memories replay in my hippocampus when I thought I already turned them off?
Where is my mania to squash my depression half?
Why do I seem helpless and wait forever to succeed in the adult world?
Why do I get so intensely excited then become an antagonistic monster?
Why did I not know then what I know now?
Becoming a victim completely unaware.
Proved wrong and I strip to be the bad one
so everyone shuts up.
Humiliated and hurt and everyone looks out for me.
Naive behavior and hunger too strong I steal from others.
Tears swelling in front of small children.
A girl who wanted nothing but for me to suffer.
A boy who wanted nothing but my genitals.
A troubled woman who wanted nothing but my time.
A guy who wanted nothing but for me to be his *****.
A guy who possessed me,
Though everyone at some point
Did.
I've been owned, abused, humiliated, hurt, assaulted, victimized, bullied, made fun of, attempted to **** myself, blown off, screamed at, fought with, admonished, antagonized, used, looked down on, bossed around, yelled at, pushed, shoved, thrown away.
Today,
I have love that is a beautiful miracle and proof I will be loved without being pushed into what's only for him.
I have a few good friends who care and don't grab my hand.
I occasionally hate who I'm becoming when the anger within is the kraken in my body swerves herself around me inside slowly and aggressively.
Only way she comes out is through profane vulgarity in my words and through my lips.
They're gone,
They're not mine,
They're hurtful,
But remember they're only for a moment.
I'll be done with the anger one day someday,
and the kraken is just a myth.
Though my traumatic stories may seem like a myth too,
be grateful I'm still here and
smiling.:)