Mama, Why am I going with this strange man?
For your safety, my dear
But Mama, he scares me, he's hurt me, everywhere, I don't feel safe
Oh honey, It's okay. It's what all girls do.
But-but...I love you, I love Papa, I don't wanna leave you.
It is your duty, child, we need the money. If you love us, go.

The conversation runs through her head,
over and over the broken record plays.

Broken.
Innocence of a child, lost.
Lost in the broken glass.
Shards tear at the skin,
Making sure she never forgets.

Hope is pushed into her life,
Freedom is near*, she thinks.
glass shatters
He knocked over another vase,
Another rock was thrown through the window.
Another piece of her life, came crashing down.

Down...Down...Down.
As soon as she believes,
Believes in what could have been,
What should be lived...
glass shatters.*

Glass shards, impossible to mend.
The shattering, the damage,
Hopeless to rectify,
Hopeless to continue.

Positive words of wisdom,
spread through the cool, dry air.
Feeling the whispering wind,
brush swiftly across my hair.

Daffodils spreading sunshine,
Roses giving warmth,
Orchids beaming bright
continuing to sway back and forth.

A beautiful lotus gleaming above all,
floating in the sparkling pond.
The sun glistens in the water below,
radiating across, far and beyond.

She once thought she was strong,
She once believed she could take it all.

She sat, picking flowers,
giving them to her Mama,
as a sign of happiness and love.

She pranced through the halls,
in her long flow-y gown,
being told she could be whatever she wanted.

She became the little tom boy, with her hat on backwards.
She ran 'round with her brother and friends,
and used him as her role model.

As she grew older, she realized...
She was more like her brother than she expected.
But she's not alone.

He was alone.
He envies what she has,
What he lacked.

She realizes the mistakes,
The terrible things she should've stopped,
and the things she never started.  

He had no one,
She has two.
He told nobody,
She told few.
He was secretive,
but she knew.

She once thought she was strong,
She once believed she could take it all...
she once thought she could give up.

She reminds herself, He didn't.
He had no one, but he stayed strong.

He survived. She tells herself,
*So can you.

The feel of you in my arms,
pressing closer to me when I move.
Completely safe with each other,
wrapped up together all night.
Problems flow into my mind,
then completely dissipate.
They dissolve into the wind,
because they don't matter.
Knowing I can wake up next to you,
and your lips there awaiting mine.
Your hand held tightly around me,
never letting me go.
It gives me the comfort and happiness,
I haven't had in months.

*You make me, *me again

Words of mystery,
have became known.
Words of disguise,
were rightly shown.

Hidden no more,
under the brush they lay.
For everyone knew,
what they planned to say.

Words scribbled down,
on piles of paper.
Every single one,
would diminish and taper.

You call that poetry?
they say with a frown.
Classified as a poet,
you're only a let down.

Words of mystery,
kept concealed.
Words of disguise,
not tightly sealed.

Scribbling away,
at the endless works.
Never moving past,
the broken waterworks.

Here I write away,
those silly old scraps.
And pray dear god,
that I'll never relapse.

Done with the pointlessness
Done with the wrath,
I'm ready to move on,
to journey on the path.

Words of mystery,
closed once more,
Words of disguise,
never like before.

Expression.
It’s all in how we look,
How we act.

Society.
Limits our expression,
Shows us what we can and can’t be.

Women.
We are told to be perfect,
Told what to look like and how to act.
Each day, something new is added
whether it is something to be skinnier,
Or something to change our face.

We are roped into a battle,
Being dragged by society's standards.
The words used are like guns.
Each hurtful phrase heard
is like a bullet tearing through the heart.

It hurts to hear society’s views,
Society’s opinions.

What do we follow?
We are told to be ourselves,
But who is that?

Ourselves. Myself. Yourself.
The people we are trying to figure out.
The people who we want to find,
But can’t.

We are pressured and indoctrinated with styles,
With trends,
With things that are “normal.”

Normal.
What is Normal?
Who came up with this silly term?

Normal.
Something everyone is striving to be,
But lose themselves trying to find.
Something everyone longs to be called,
Even if it hurts their reality.
Something everyone is forced into,
With nobody knowing the true outcome.

Weird.
Is what people think when they see people who are not “normal.”
People who do not fit society’s standards,
Society’s expression.

What people don’t see, is the happiness.
The people who you deem “not normal,”
Have found themselves.
Have found who they truly are,

Happiness.
Is what you get when you finally find yourself,
When you can express who you are freely,
Without fear of being hurt, or judged.

Happiness.
Is what you get when everyone is equal,
When everyone was the same rights,
Without loopholes and sly backdoors.

Happiness,
is you.
Who you are.
Not society’s view,
But your own expression.

You.
Who is Free.
Who is Joyful.
You, who is Happy.

The shrill of metal
wailing through the night
Screams and shouts heard for miles
as the lawn is bright with light
The feeling of chills
through the bones of each member
The first note is played
the crowd cannot be contained
Singers voice echos
as the drums pound behind them
Each move made
Feeling the beat
*Feeling the energy

a sadness in the mind,
clouds the judgement,
dawning a new beginning.

though heard of by most,
most deny the fact,
controlling every move.

its unwanted,
its miserable.
it never goes away.

tried and true
broken and beaten
tattered and lost

thrown to the floor
forced to be upset
forced to relive everything

taking your every move,
taking your every being.

Jealousy
*It's toxic

Snow is a good thing, right?
The wind howls,
creating icy burns on the skin
and the snow flies,
whirling in circles
to block the sunlight.
Creating slippery roads,
and dangerous conditions.

...is snow really a good thing?* they whisper.

Red swirls fill the paper
Marking up the canvas
that once held happy memories

Purple lines twist and turn
gliding along the stretch of cherry
hiding the past mistakes

Blue marks spot the rest
filling the empty patches of white
keeping the reality hidden

Black dots encircle the art
adding final touches to the strokes
and staying whole yet another day

When I think of you,
It's different for awhile
It's crazy, I know
but all I do is smile.

You don't mean to,
I'm sure I'm overthinking.
How could someone like you,
Even think of sinking?

Sinking to the level of me,
The human I've become.
Yet apparently I am the one
who makes your heart drum.

Happiness is all around,
but joy is almost never found.
Happiness is short term, not made to last,
while joy, is in the contrast.
Joy is forever, Joy is always,
yet you are lucky,
if happiness lasts for a few days.
What happens when neither are found?
If happiness is lost, and joy is unreachable,
Is the slump I'm in ever unbeatable?
Sure, yes, you can tell me it's not,
but who's to say it's not a long shot?
Happiness vs Joy, oh what a difference,
when all you see, is nothing but bitterness.

I've made my choice
respect it.

You may not like it,
You may not approve.
But this is just something
I shall never remove.
Save your breath,
I've heard it before
I'd rather not start,
yet another war.
Stop your disappointing looks,
the disapproving stares.
Because honestly that's
what slowly tears.
Parallel's I've noticed,
Things I've seen.
It's funny how you think
you're an innocent lil' bean.
So stop where you are,
before digging yourself too deep.
How do I know that
you're the one I wish to keep?

I've made my choice.
*respect me.

We want to serve our country.
We want to stand up and fight.
We want to be recognized as the ones,
Who go all for what is right.

Pushed aside, Unwanted and Belittled,
The more rights we gain, more are torn down,
Every time we try and stand for ourselves,
We get told to put on our "pretty little gown."

Women. Seen as a dependent.
Someone who cannot handle the game,
cannot handle the war.
Forced to sit the bench of almost freedom.

We must pretend to be someone we aren't,
We are forced to stay behind,
Why can't be recognized,
like the others of mankind?

The game.
All about playing the cards right,
one slip up, and you could bring your team down.
You could lose the game.
To play the cards, takes time and patience.
You will renege,
You will take your partner's trick.
It's a learning process,
never gotten on the first try.
Never give up, because in the end,
You will be dealt a lay down loner.

Hypocrisy
Victim I am
Taken I'm not

Purity of the flesh,
of the skin before you,
covered in lines of red.

Expressions of clean
sickens the brain
of ever forgetting the dread.

Desire travels past
stirring up emotions
beckoning days on end

Demons rising
through the shining of silver
and on this we've come to depend

Would it be okay...
if I were to say
just this once
and then i'll be through?