Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Rowan King Apr 2018
the moon reveals its beauty
only inn the night
once surrounded by darkness
it becomes the light
there it stands
on its lonesome
then the stars
start to come
joining the lonely moon
oh joy
and now here comes the sun
stripping the moon of its glory
but its never too far from sight
the moon reveals its beauty
only in the night
this is a poem about jealousy. I am the moon and my brother is the sun. more on this later
Rowan King Mar 2018
the words typed behind a screen
I'm fine
the lies I tell her
I'm fine
I love her
I'm fine
but I cant tell her
I'm fine
I type,
people ask me why I lie,
because the truth would hurt more than the lies
Rowan King Mar 2018
My mind snaps
my brain breaks
everything
anything
all that I know
all that I am
gone
gone
gone

I blink
I cant un-see it
myself
kneeling
bleach in one hand
a note in the other
no
this isn't me
this isn't who I am
stop
happy place
go there
fast
I blink
I am somewhere else
I'm in her arms
asleep
us
together
us
held
us
together
us
I breathe
in-
out-
in-
out-
repeat


I got this
Rowan King Mar 2018
Is it strange that I want to be Phillip Carlyle even though I was born a girl

Is it strange I don't want to be trapped in a job even though I am "smart" and "hard working"

Is it strange I want to be an artist even though my parents want me to be an engeneer

is it strange I want to be free ut I know I am trapped

is it strange I want to be a boy but I was born a girl

is it strange I want what I cant have

Is it strange I will always be what I hate most

Is it strange I hate my home even though my home is nice and welcoming

Is it strange that I fear returning home

Is it strange that I hate heartbreak but I fall so easily in love

Is it strange I always reply yes when people ask me if I'm fine

is it strange I hide my feeling, when they long to be free

Is it strange I fix my friends problems but I cant fix my own

Is it strange I will always be what I hate

Is it strange I will always be what they hate

is it strange that if they knew me for me, they wouldn't want me

Is it strange that I hate myself, even when I have done nothing wrong

— The End —