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sayona Aug 2014
i'm a poet that can't create beauty out of words,
a person that can no longer think.
i'm a writer that has lost all of her pens,
and a sturdy ship about to ******* sink.
sayona Jul 2014
i'm just a really sad poem with feet. my inner most thoughts and feelings are written all over me for everyone to see. i'm a freak show everyone sees just how unhappy i am with myself because i'm a poem and i'm supposed to express, right? isn't that what i'm supposed to do? well, i used to believe that i wanted to be the poem instead of the poet, but now, i think i change my mind.
sayona May 2015
and next time before i give someone my all,
maybe i should ask them if they even want it.
because if there's one thing that i know,
it's that you sure didn't.
sayona Jan 2014
don't you dare put me on a bookshelf because you have decided that you may not want me now, but i may be a good alternative later. i am vintage, something that you should be appreciative of. but to me it seems like that is everything that you're not. yes, i am old and my leather on the cover is beginning to crack, but doesn't that make me more beautiful? yes, my edges are torn and frayed but that doesn't that just mean to treat me with more delicacy? and yes, the binding is falling apart and tearing at the seams, but doesn't that mean you should take oh so better care of me? and not just throw me on the top shelf carelessly just because you think i am useless, because i am not. no matter how many times that i thought that i was, i am far from that. i am a treasure. that someone else will gladly be able to discover. i will captivate someone, at least one, with every page, and every one of my letters, jumbled together to create words in black and white. yes, someone will cherish me and hold me near and dear. and that someone may not be you, but **** it, if it's not. please give me away to someone that will.
i was feeling inspirational for once. how quaint.
sayona Mar 2014
i wanted to play God
but everyone knew
that i wasn't fit to he a leader
sayona Apr 2014
we used to be so close.
remember?
she envied how close we were.
she was always irritated at how
you'd come to me before you came to her.
i'd always laugh when she got mad,
but she hated me for it.
you told me your secrets.
and i told you mine.
we spoke in metaphors and similies
because you thought it was fun
and it gave me a good laugh.
i remember how on the last day of school
i ran up to hug you
and i tripped over a wooden block
and fell into you.
i was embarrassing
and clumsy
but i that one moment,
i don't think you really cared.
i remember how you hated books.
or maybe you just didn't like the ones i did?
either way,
i remember.
i moved away
and i feel so terrible.
you probably don't feel as terrible as i do
because you're a guy
and there's always other fishies in the sea, right?
maybe not
i love you
and i miss you more than moon
misses my window on a cloudy night
you texted me the other day
and told me you missed me
and i said the same
i miss you too.
sayona Aug 2013
we're not this worthless piece of a soul floating around
and inhabiting one's body
this body is just something temporary for our souls,
our true beings to occupy for a bit of time
we are more than this ***** filled and flesh covered beings
we are made out to be
we are more than what we think
and what our minds will ever let us to believe
we were all made, and created,
and brought alive for a special purpose
that we may not ever know in our lifetime
we were made to affect, and to change, and to love
and to feel and to think
there's always a little bit more to us
then we could ever imagine or dream
no matter how bright we think we are,
we're always a little bit brighter
no matter how shy we think we are,
we're always a little more outgoing
no matter how heartless we think we are,
we're always a little more loving
no matter how brutal we think we are,
we're always a little more gentle
no matter how much that we think we are worthless
and that we are nothing
and that we are unwanted
and that we're not special or loved
we are
because we're more than that
so much more
we will always be more
and i don't think anyone will ever comprehend their true selves.
because we're just too tragically beautiful
for anyone to ever understand

- S.O.
sayona Jun 2016
why oh why,
does my ability only reveal itself when i'm choking on the truth(?) of the inability for someone to love me
why,
does the wall that constantly hinders me from expressing how i feel only tear down when i do the same to myself
why,
is forming and keeping words together only easy when i can't manage to keep my own self together?
why?
sayona Jan 2014
i didn't know the true definition of writing
or that i happened to be good at it
until about 693 days ago
when my teacher asked us
to write an essay
on what we knew about best
and the only words that i could create
from my trembling fingertips
was words of torment
and aching endeavors
i didn't know that i liked poetry
until about 462 days ago
when i found an old book
lying in the corner of my friend's room
and picked it up and started reading it
                Listen to the MUSTN’TS, child,

                  Listen to the DON’TS

                  Listen to the SHOULDN’TS

                  The IMPOSSIBLES, the WON’TS

                   Listen to the NEVER HAVES

                   Then listen close to me—

                    Anything can happen, child,

                    ANYTHING can be


i didn't know that poetry was my outlet
until about 498 days ago
when you slipped in between
the spaces of my fingers like water
and no longer looked at me
like you craved my presence
and ached for my lips
i didn't know that i was in love with poetry
until it held me in its hands
and grieved along side me
when no one else would
is this okay? i fell like it's not..
the italics is a poem by Shel Silverstein. ♥
sayona May 2015
i don't believe that someone's sadness should be justified. in fact, i don't think that a lot of people's feelings/emotions should always be justified for that matter. feelings are just that, feelings. and sometimes, our feelings don't always have to manifest from a case scenario, incident, or situation. sometimes, they just pop up. plain and simple. we are people, and things like this happen to all of us. sometimes, i get sad. and i feel like an ocean composed of disappointment and heartache is filling up my lungs, and that's okay. and if i don't know why i'm feeling that way, it's okay. i don't have to always give you an explanation, and that's okay too. the mere idea that we always need to disclose the reasoning behind our sadness, or our anger, or our happiness, is absurd. yes, i totally agree with the fact that bottling in feelings all the time is nowhere near okay and that you should find some way to cope with them and help you deal with them in a non destructive way, but what i don't agree with is the fact that when you spill your insides out to a person, it's assumed that you need to justify yourself. you don't always have to. and that's just where the truth lies.
i know this isn't a poem, but i was asked the question, "do you believe that sadness must always be justified? why or why not?"
i may or may have not went off on a little tangent.

— The End —