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I can put words on paper,
They fit and  they rhyme
But I am not truly a poet
There is no definition
Yet still I am not.
I am not a poet
And I will always fail
For the same simple reason
Beliefs can be a poison.
My first poem without a rhyme or syllable pattern. Sometimes its hard to voice a thought when you give yourself those limits. That said, it totally felt weird.
Alexis Michaels Apr 2015
It hurts, having nowhere to go, blaming everything on a God that doesn't show. It hurts, every scar on my skin burning all over again. It hurts, laying alone at night feeling to weak to fight.
It hurts
I'm tired
I've tried
I'm trying

      im done.............................
Alexis Michaels Apr 2015
Looking from afar and wishing to be close.
Having him in your arms and just letting go.
Knowing him but not having a chance. Missing his contagious laugh and our dance.
Seeing him and its breaking your heart knowing you'll never be able to remind him of all the memories, sitting on the bed late talks at night, cuddling at his side in fear of the night, him saying you are mine and I am yours. But now he doesn't remember, all the memories these frames hold, that I hold dear. O darling I wish you were here.
Alexis Michaels Apr 2015
The thunder clouds roll around, the lighting comes crashing down.
I smile even though I'm frowning .
I'm alive even thou I'm dying.
For I will miss your winning smile.
For I will miss your crazy style.
For I know the world around me is not to blame.
For it should be me to put my head down in shame.
I hoped our love could last forever.
For now I know even that could sever.
I hope you can make it through the night.
If you get scared just hold your pillow tight.
For it used to be the place where I would lay.
But now I'm under a grave where I agreed to stay.
Alexis Michaels Apr 2015
She's walking down the streets tripping              
over everything like she has two left feet .She wipes the tears that's covering her eye sight,and sees a guy standing on the sideline.That broken smile, the scratch on the wrist, the way he keeps clenching his fist. She walks home with the thought in her head that someone else might be hurting instead.
She lays on her bed looks at her wrist kisses the places where her blade didn't miss, looks at the moon and says out loud ''i'm not going to let this bring me down''. For she knew that life may treat her like trash.But all she needs is a life that would last.

— The End —