I've burnt a lot of things in my short lifetime.
Poems meant for you but never read to the unseen eye.
An assortment of books with your name hastily scrawled in them like I'm running out of time
Scrabble tiles in the form of the word tragic.
Tragic how the only thing you ever taught me was how to button my pants with *******. Both of which you'd.kiss before kissing my forehead goodbye.
I just don't want to burn my bridge to you. The woods are our safe haven that a forest fire could destroy.
I once burnt a heart into my skin, as the only thing you can't take away
Because when you leave. You'll take my happiness and my sanity and my name for when I'm with you I know that I'm yours
Without you I don't know who I am or what to do and I'm scared.
Scared of losing and having to face being alone.
I'm sorry I can't come to grip with myself but you've gripped me so tight with your eyes that I've gotten lost
I'm sorry that I need you and you've gone on to bigger and better things
I'm sorry that I'm nothing more than a grain of sand in your hourglass, just a miniscule second wasted away.
I'm sorry that I never have and will be good enough.
I'm not sorry for loving you
Loving you is the only thing I know how to do and I just hope it'll last.

I envy those lacking the vital skills I need as I practice these soliloquies in my mirror and even my own body doesn't obey me like my voice shaking like the plate tectonics of an earthquake right outside your house and I'm scared although I shouldn't be. Why are my vocal cords failing me as I'm screaming verbatim the last apology I ever received I don't understand this literary monster that hides in my tonsils instead of under my bed
im sorry head, that I cannot enunciate the words you so clearly strung together, I'm sorry heart, that I cannot convey the feelings that you pump through my veins, I'm sorry You, to have made you read this instead of never writing it in the first place.

So sick of getting discouraged by the way my own hands write lies for no body but my eyes alone to see. I do not create metaphors in the way I speak for interpreters to breathe.  I may have forgotten how to write but god these words still whisper in my dreams. "WE GET IT POETS, THINGS ARE LIKE OTHER THINGS" a stranger in the audience yells in the middle of my memior , I am sorry sir but you are an ******* like that of the gods greatest devils and I pray that you will stop. I should stop, but I have ink in my veins, and my smiles are composed of similies.I have a voice as small as a mouse but as loud as a lion. I look up at the stars and all I see are fallacies, oh god, look at the red herring. The constellations are making fun of me. How I wish I were a book so at least I'd have a spine. I cower in the land of fiction novels hiding from the people that are better than me. I know I'll never have the taste of Walt Whitman or face the horrors of Mr. poe but ******* how I want to. I'm afraid that if I don't figure out my purpose as a writer I'll forget how to speak to you and we'll grow apart like leaves on a tree in winter so glue a pen to my palm and make me dance and hopefully words will relearn how to waltz across the page. Its the very fiber of my being and I can no long use this double helix as a crutch.

Tris Prior dies

Im so sick of this ideology, the notion that earth is just a gift to us humans. That we can trod and trample and destroy the only thing willing to put up with our **** and give us the oxygen we need to live. Humanity is a sickness. Animal testing is a disgrace. HUMAN TESTING IS ENEVITABLE. let's take all the drug addicts and murderers in prison for life living on free food and cable and subject them to hours of radiation and harsh chemicals, then maybe something will get accomplished. Putting makeup on a bunny rabbit who shares less than 75% of our genetic data then saying its ******* safe for humans will never work. STOP

Loving you is agony in which I cannot differ pleasure from pain as my hands crumple up the sheets like talons snatching up its prey and I pray that he isn't watching as your lips trace my hipbones oh god it burns like acid but Ive never craved it more

So sick of getting discouraged by the way my own hands write lies for no body but my eyes alone to see. I do not create metaphors in the way I speak for interpreters to breathe, I only bleed to feel. I want to be whole again.

The saddest thing ever written about a girl and her words are the ones written to rid the ink on her quill.
- from stained hands and a broken heart

At least if I stand in your shadow mine won't scare me.

wish I were a book so id at least have a spine

Please tell me why my eyes feel hollow and my cheeks are sunken in.  

Don't tell me I told you so because I already know and I won't say I'm sorry because I would do it over again a thousand times.

think I've forgotten how to write. I know i have a voice. It speaks in my mind but its receding like the hairline I know yours will when you're forty and I don't know whether it will come back and I'm afraid that if it doesn't I'll forget how to speak to you and we'll grow apart like leaves on a tree in winter so glue a pen to my palm and make me dance and hopefully words will relearn how to waltz across the page.

I don't want to speak in coordinate tongues to imply that our paths will never meet again. The mutation of passion is what keeps us together but we can't keep using this double helix as a crutch . I have these fragments of words, and paper and hearts and glass, syntax of my own DNA that I know not what to do with.

think I've forgotten how to write. I know i have a voice. It speaks in my mind but its receding like the hairline I know yours will when you're forty and I don't know whether it will come back and I'm afraid that if it doesn't I'll forget how to speak to you and we'll grow apart like leaves on a tree in winter so glue a pen to my palm and make me dance and hopefully words will relearn how to waltz across the page.

I'm afraid ive forgotten how to write

Think of love as a giant piece of metal, with you at one end and your significant other on the oppisite. The goal is just to create something. You will run into hard problems (ex, the metal not bending the way you want), awful noises (crying, laughter, ***, ect) your body hurting from exhaustion. And the shear terror of the ability for you or the other to just give up and walk away. But if both parties put in effort then you end up with this beautiful, unbreakable, piece of art, with you sig.other at your side. And that is worth it all. That is love.

I 6 years old an out of sight
There's a pretty girl outside
But me no talk cause me ain't white
I don't understand difference
                           I see a little black boy
                          All alone looking at a stem
                        Who is he? Why is he so dark?
                    I think I'll ask mother about him
Loud knocking at the door
Theyre taking me from mommy
She's screaming, I'm crying
All I see is rope and a tree
                           I just got home from school
                         The colored boy is gone today
                         What a shame, I tell mom
                         I was going to ask him to play

I want to lay with you, listening to the synchronization of our heartbeats and lace my fingers with yours. Sometimes I think I'll wake up alone, empty air, not even an imprint of where you laid at all, like you were never even there. Don't leave me, sometimes I think you're just a dream and I'm so afraid of losing you to a nightmare that I can't destinguish reality from lucidity. Just lay with me, forget the world and let my body contour to yours like a mold, stars in a constellation perfectly fixated on each other. Catch me, as I'm falling asleep, never let me go, let's get lost in this lovers slumber.

Won't you be my valley girl
A sight for sore eyes, missing you I am
But baby, I have to get this off my chest
loving you was never second best

You make me see stars, damsel in distress
Spinning around and around my heart
There isn't a thing I wouldn't do
ill stop the world and melt with you

Take my hand, I'll show you the view
A mirror, the prettiest in the land
Sky's the limit, life's a free ride
the future's open wide

I want you forever by my side
My one true and only love baby
Give that idea a whirl
**won't you be my valley girl

we are the underdogs of this era, the generation of incineration
lying in the gutter like a ******* ***** rotton pup
we are the hated of the created, a social distortion of abortion,
the shouldve been gotten rid of
make them regret, scream. Wreck, everything.

a ******* salute, paint the skies red
dilute the cries of the undead with one of your own. *******
*****, tease. lyin 'bout your insecurities. done with your demise, not down with your lies.
**** your vice. roll the dice, the odds are never in your favor

what a contradiction, lying in the ditch with your homies who said
"dudes, we'll run the world one day." swell, swollen eyes and blackened eyes, what the hell.
allies with the unforgiven of who've never done a thing wrong. neck wrung. on the front lines with punks with tarred lungs. smoke, smoke, everything up in smoke.

break martial law, get down on your knees and crawl toward unjustice and saw them to obliteration. ***** the nation. stumble with eyes wide  and watch the debris of your broken states crumble to the ground. make no sound. they know the noise of defeat. left foot, right. whos in control now.
the rebels live.
the rebels thrive.
we are alive.
rebels united.

I have 99 problems and writing block is all of them

For the life of me I cannot possible fathom why you -- a god of nature-- would want me --a tiny grain of sand-- when you could have the whole ocean.

YOUR WORDS ARE LIKE VENOM IN MY VEINS AND WITH EVERY SYLLABLE I'M GETTING MORE AND MORE INTOXICATED
LOSS OF BREATHE,
SHAKY LIMBS,
UNABLE TO CONTROL MY HEART-RATE
THESE ARE THE SYMPTOMS OF LOVING YOU AND I DON'T EVER WANT TO STOP

I sat outside until my toes curled in numbness gazing at the stars like they could answer all my questions, hoping they would rearrange them in any sort of constellation for my consolation instead of wishing on fallen death.


You set off an atomic bomb in my heart which is pretty ******* ironic considering Im scared of loud noises and falling in love but the ticking in my chest gets louder and louder with every step like I'm a walking paradox ready to explode

I'm writing by the light of lightening as raindrops gently wet my notebook and im using sharpie to make sure that my inspiration is not lost. The horizon is beautiful, fireflies glittering in the forest like stars in a galaxy. I never knew Mother Nature could be so upset as to make god cry and the moon hide. Dont ever feel as you're not good enough because i swear you can make mountains move and silence thunder. It feels like atomic bombs are leveling my heartbeat and the ground i walk on to get close to to you. My thoughts are getting more and more scrambled and my strength is running out
                                                                                            of
                                                                                                  line but the wind is whispering secrets that i must scribe.
             part 1;
                            The beginning is now. It's only 11:11 and the raindrops arent so gentle anymore. The shadows are already ravenous for missing you and the eeriness of the darkened sky has quieted even as the most deafening lies beg to be heard and i want to trust that everything will be okay. Please, let everything be okay
              Part 2;
                            I'm starting to miss the sun. I'm sorry for whatever i did to make you upset. I need your guidance, your light to show me the road to forgiveness as i have forgiven your sly actions. I need you to face your fear of tornadoes and come swirling home to me. I need you.
                 Part 3;
                              The end
                                       The storm is gone and so is my easy state of mind. My paper is dry but my thoughts are not and im sorry im only stable when i long for something i cannot have but i want to be bright and reckless and strong and everything the night is the i am not.
                                                           Goodbye.

Its easier to write free verse but you like rhyming best so here's how it goes
3 am is for the poets, or didn't you know
That I'm always kissing and missing you, and picking your nose
I guess I'm just so in love with you, all that has to show

That I just want to make you smile
I'm proud of you and want you to be proud of me Mr Lyles
please stay for a little while
we'll walk hand in hand for miles

**love me, miss me, need me, want me,
Want me, need me, love me, miss me
miss me, love me, want me, need me,
Need me, want me, miss me, love me.

I have a problem
I listen to music so loud I can't hear my own thoughts and everybody says I'm going to go deaf by the age of 20 but at least I won't hear you say that you never loved me
I have a problem
Your favorite colors are silver and red so I take this blade across my skin again and again and bleed out the beauty that you said was only on the inside
I have a problem
My vision is blurry as a bottle drops from my hand
The sound I hear resonating when it shatters sounds miles away like the memory of our first date with champagne and roses and you loving me
I have a problem
I need to feel a pair of hands around my throat. Get a grip on life, ******, I love you.
I have a problem
You used to hate cigarettes. But now that you're gone, one always resides between my fingers where yours used to be and hopefully if I smoke at 11:11 you'll care enough to come back and stop me
I have a problem.

Sometimes I wonder if the trees are green because they are jealous of the clouds, to grow so tall and yet never be able to hold hands with the sky, to never be good enough so when it rains its really just the clouds crying out for the lost friendship and they say the grass is always greener on the other side but that's only true because neither can reflect the meadow in your eyes that I often gaze into wondering if its really me you see and not some sycamore because no matter how luciously sinful nature is it'll always be beautiful and I will never compare to that emerald jewel because I'll always be a **** billowing in the land of self pity and outward envy.

Fire and ice share two common letters.
I and E. Vowels, to be particular.
Yet the similarities don't outweigh the differences.
Fire is how his hands feel on your thighs after the first fight and ice is how your heart feels on the night he walks away.
Fire is destructive, like your words that lash me like a whip, aND SOMETIMES I JUST WANT TO BURN EVERY SINGLE MEMORY OF THE LIGHTNING OFF YOUR LIPS FROM MY BRAIN but I can't risk the cold and lack what your warm hands bring. Ice is cruel, it leaves you cold and miserable, suffering as an avalanche of unreplied text messages and love letters unanswered downfall on your ever aching body aND I SWEAR IM SICK OF THIS ICEBERG IN MY HANDS, LEAVING ME NERVOUS AND NUMBED I just miss the smell of oak trees burning as we ran laughing through the forest, I'm sorry I was so cold, ruthless even that the moon cast its shadowed eyes upon me. We are opposites but we complete each other, fire and ice, come back, I need you to thaw me out, I'll melt in your arms and promise never to freeze again

Myths say that raindrops are just gods tears but that day at a bus stop sitting under an umbrella I prayed to that big man in the sky and whispered that I needed sun but all I heard was your footsteps in sync with the rain dripping on the concrete as you walked away from me in reply and I will never get down on my knees for anybody again

People have always told me my eyes turn grey like the stormy skies.
Like the weathers chaos is being reflected in my very eyes.
My tears are the raindrops, when the cloud cries.

Maybe I should keep my head down on the ground.
Maybe my emotions will be more sound.
Maybe when the sun in shining my soul will be found.

Until then I'll remain sad
But I guess the rain isnt so bad
I mean mother nature could always be mad.

In drivers ed they say you must hold your hands in the "10 and 2" position, like the numbers on a clock but my time with you is always blurry and I know there's only 10 fingers and 2 hands that are holding my heart from falling off a cliff and that my dear is not very safe so next time your thoughts are a train wreck just remember wear a seat belt and tread carefully among the caution tape.

I am a plastic bag.
I am not just a late autumn leaf swept up by fall winds and you are not just a figment of my imagination.
I was used to the best of my abilities and tossed out the window replaced by another nylon pouch with a zipper you are confident in undoing.
Your veins make up the dreamcatcher I keep on my bedside table to collect the memories I was once so fond of.
I kept your secrets, your trust, lies, casualaties and love tight on my embrace until I could not hold any longer.
I am a plastic bag.
I float on winds of whispers from city to city, each more excruciating than the last, trying to find my way back to you
Where you are a polaroid taken again, modeling the perfect pose to take the girl of your choice home for the night.
A girl that will place cosmetics, such as the red lipstick she'll kiss upon your face, and the Maybelline eyeliner that'll smudge on your pillow case in the morning in a purse made from the finest cows.
I am a plastic bag

I fell in love like the way you fall asleep: like getting hit by a ******* bus that knocks you out of your senses and *In that moment I swear we were infinitely in love but ******* you left me on my own. I know love and lust don't always keep the same company but I find great companionship in your eyes and I'm quite hoping you'll stick around. May the odds be ever in our favor of falling in love again in the empty house we once called mine where i'm divergent and I can only be controlled by my fears (of losing you) that send me recoiling in your arms every night; I solemnly swear that I am up to no good and I spend every second wishing you'd love me like I love you.

I have a poetic bone in my body, I swear; I've seemed to misplace it
I'll search inside the cabinets, within the threads of my bedsheets
maybe you've withheld it in your eyes
breaking it with your icy glare,
maybe you enjoyed hearing it crack and shatter into pieces, 
was the dissonance music to your ears?
i thought i saw it the other day, chasing the hand you walked out on, 
funny how it could've escaped my grasp
when I once held it so close like the proverbial hand of cards,
a treasured piece of myself.
I can hear it now, it reverberating through the forest like the drumbeat of your heart.
Toying with me, a little girl attached to the strings of a puppeteer
suspending itself among the wind chimes that whisper melodies to the wind
it hangs there, taunting me with gut wrenching lullabies, torturing my every-waking moment
with the unmistakeable clinging of its own remnants.
I don't know if it'll ever return to me; do i even want it to?

untitled; not knowing a name to put on my favorite book of how I love to waking up beside you in the morning. Or any knowledge of metaphors and fallacies that exist to define our love. I cannot put a title of the chemistry between us.
Unentitled; Your heart is not mine to love and your hand not mine to hold. I have no title or claim to any ounce, hair, or breathe that you have but I want it so much. I long to be yours, to be entitled to your everything.

Wear your heart on your sleeve like its a ******* fashion statement

I am found on page 7 of google if you search "poems that whisper i love you" but you never look past page 1.
You found something that suited your taste buds on result #4 and never bothered to look further.
page 2; google+Poems+that+whisper+i+love+you=error404.html
page 3; please go on, but result number #5 was an interview of your favorite hockey team so page 4 never got a glance, page
5; four being overlooked, the images are screaming out your name of miscommunication and internet wrongdoing,
page 6; one more page, and youll find what youve always been looking for, but a message came up saying "meet me at the coffee shop" and the tab was closed forever. I will never be found, and yet you'll never care to wonder what could have been if you would've just read page 7

So many thoughts are encompassed in my brain, swirling around and around, faster and faster and faster like a tornado that's going to destroy everything in its path; destruction at its finest.
There no place like home, say the voices in my head. GET OUT. I can't take this internecine anymore. I have to end this. I have to end this. I don't wanna be alive. I have to end this. I dONT WANT TO BE ALIVE.

I fell down the rabbit hole of my favorite book

Internally corruptive
Mentally destructive
The voices in my head call out for death
"Schizophrenic, physcopath"
Whispers… who
People out or in my subconscious
Deadly sins,
Cant let them in
I should cease to exist.
Slaughter myself