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781 · Aug 2015
LIFE
Blend or change, cover up or rearrange?
Act dumb or smart, old friends or part?
Explore or hide, work hard or slide?
Be yourself.

Who am I to say what can or cannot be?
Who am I to let the noise of the world carry on without my voice?
Still I have that desire to spill my emotions out of me
like a jar of marbles on a beat-up driveway.

Everything is a challenge, everything is a race.
We are all getting tired, we are going our own pace.
Now, it's our own journey, we take our own course,
Reinventing our own person, not someone else anymore.

Discovery is near, it's just around the corner. Catch it.
You are so close .

I've taken the leap, and ripped off my mask.
I just wanted to meet you, is that too much to ask?

In a society like ours we are hopelessly secluded.
People run around unhappy and overworked,
Losing sight of what makes life worth it.
We are all worth it.

Life is like a set of cracked water colors,
Experiencing the creation of beautiful art.
Though life seems like a ritual of the mundane,
and the motto "keep calm and carry on"
being, stressed, unhappy, and waiting to enjoy life.

Life is the golden sunset we all see on the horizon from time to time,
making everything beautiful.

Because everyone is hiding, looking, searching, believing,
loving, living, needing, giving, LIFE.
I have kept a poetry notebook since 7th grade. This notebook contains many poems, and for a High School Poetry Slam I collected my favorite lines from a variety of my poems to make this one title 'Life'.
502 · Aug 2016
Wild
Teach me to be a wild child.
One who will dance
with all of her limbs and being,
who cares less if people stare.
One who smiles
without having to remind herself to.

Wild children run free
to the edges of this earth,
daring others to follow.

Hand draw me a map
with all words in a jumble
and only mark the dream destinations
with stars.

Find a bold marker and trace me,
striking and confident
all will then see me.

Add colorwith chalk
to brighten my world,
and please lend me your kaleidoscope
to see it.

Or take my hand in yours,
and tell me i am...
377 · Aug 2015
WORDS COME
Words can fill up a novel.
Words can drip off a page.
They fill you up and carry you to new lands.
Islands to explore, different lives to live.
Words come.
Words are carefully chosen to express connect, and excite.
Words tell of glorious times, elegance, and wisdom.
But words aren't always illuminated by a rainbow,
Painting a perfect Picasso you gaze into in wonder.
I have found, words come.
In all stages of life, words come – and we accept them.
Starting young we learn them.
Growing older we use them, and not always to say nice things.
Words come in various shapes and forms,
meaning a world of lovely and uncomforting things.
They guide us, educate us, but also hold us down
Like rocks in our pockets.
Hesitant to remove them,
More that too often we choose to throw them.
Words come.
I find I write better poetry at 11 o'clock at night. This was one of those "I'll write it in the morning" poems that I chose to write immediately on paper. When I write like this, the poem is written in one go. What I write is what I get.
335 · Oct 2016
Baseball House
his bandanna lays tied, near the wall
mixed in with his bed sheets
bound by his hands, so forcefully held
restrained
thrown carelessly upon the bed
mixed with alcohol and sweat from vigorous activity
stuck in a loop, prepared to be reached for
and ****** on once again

every fiber shifting and stretching
to fit him just right
trying to look good,
desirable
casually available
wanting to see him again

what was once used for the party,
and the night that followed,
is lost in the crack between the bed and the wall
the Sunday beams of light
erase the memories of before
and he no longer wishes to see
where the bandanna has gone
332 · Aug 2017
Symphony
Charged moments
whispers in the air
cool sweat on hot bodies
strong lips
and dazzling eyes,
lost swirling,
reflecting the stars.
Rhythm of the evening
falling from allegro
in time with the
decrescendo
of
voices.
The soft morning murmers
of birds and traffic
create the perfect postlude
where silence of steady breathing
is the thunderous applause
Echoing through
the breathtaking
theater.

A
290 · Feb 2016
Untitled
When I get my own life,
I'm not asking for a smooth road.
I just wanna have clear skies,
No messes of untie-able knots,
But rather ferociously hot days of sun
That burn you.
While it hurts for a bit, and may look bad,
you move on, find resilience in yourself, and continue your trek.
I don't want vicious storms. I've had enough of those.
How about a good old drought, to make the rain sweet and welcome.
All I want, through all of this, is hope, and endless possibilities,
Offering me a rope ladder to climb to fulfillment.

A
287 · Apr 2017
Every Expectation
Every expectation
Falling from formation
I need to leave this place soon
My life gives way to more room

Mist in the eyes
My friends sticking by
My side
Lost in the gray
Today I walk away

Smiles are unbearable
Maybe shareable
But nothing is comparable
To my false hope in sadness and
Being recognized for it

I seek an embrace that'll help me face
Each day with grace
Making me found
Bound to light
Breaking out from this night
Of silent pain
As it drains
Away

~A
287 · Apr 2016
Campus
To the boy with two coffees
and a big bouquet of flowers
sticking out of your backpack,

Your thoughtfulness is lovely
and has brightened my day.
You appear to be on a mission, so
I won't get in your way.
I hope you and your friend
have a sweet happy day!

A
10:34 PM 3.7.16
284 · Aug 2015
dawning
the ringing alarm clock
stretching the sore muscles away
picking 3 things I am grateful for
is how I begin my day

waiting on the coffee that
busily bubbles away
as it transforms the kitchen into a cafe

the sun has risen to a point in the sky
that makes the morning glow
orange beams of sunlight all around

the air is fresh
it hasn't woken up either

so when I slip into my jeans and sweatshirt
the temperature is just right
and I am ready for the day
I am no morning person, but this was written on a day before rushing out the door to work that seemed eternal, and beautiful.
265 · Jun 2016
Awareness
I said in a scared voice that
"I'll be trapped", over and over.
you were there to bring me back,
to peace, to present, just with your
words and embrace.
I felt secure and free to be happy,
free to kiss you and welcome
your touch on my skin.

Home might sound like a warm place,
perhaps I have distorted the picture
of it in my mind,
but it is rough, with sharp corners, and feelings of powerlessness.
The old walls of my house are still strong enough
to contain the yelling voices, disconnected marriage, financial hopelessness, rotten food, Salvation Army clothes, "family time", mental
and emotional struggles that lie within.

Being with you helps me escape home.
I am enjoying our time together
and I appreciate your honesty
and ability to share your stories
hidden at home with me.
Let's take to the road and
move forward from the past,
I don't want it to be an anchor
anymore.
259 · Apr 2017
Threadbare
I am anything you like.
Let me become attached and tailored to you. I'm too kind to say no.
Wear me out and about until I'm worn.
I will leave you in pieces
fluttering around trying to find the whisps of the threads that held me together.
I don't mind.
It's me.
A patch, to hear your life and hold you
Until you can replace me entirely.
I have enjoyed my journey. Thanks.

~A
254 · Apr 2016
Good Times
Comfort in voices
friends in special places in my heart
filled with contentedness and life.
Admiring each others' vulnerability
made strong with liquid confidence
smiling and kareoke
love and Love
together
friends who are a safety net
to capture our darkest days and
release them into the sea.
Smile because we are here
in the present.
Laughing full of joy
at peace with our selves and the world.

A
3:13 AM 2.21.16
243 · Apr 2016
bare
I feel exposed and vulnerable,
I am bare, a blank page that was turned in instead of an essay
I am that messed up date, or worse the date where they never came
I have taken off my mask and all you do is stare
I sit in the unlit corner in the café waiting for a friend to talk to
But I am confused.
I am happy with my life.
It’s changing, yes, but in a good, new direction
I am learning and wanting to be with him
It is passion I have never known
Sometimes I feel like I am puzzle piece that doesn’t quite fit
But we both want to be together
It feels so amazing, so lovely, so surreal.
One day I will wake up and he will vanish.
All that was, actually wasn’t. And all there is left is foggy memories
I fear that perhaps.
Losing my new friend, whom I care so much for
He makes me laugh and feel like I am worth something
I want him to see that he is wonderful as he is
That he inspires me and is kind beyond belief
I don’t want to lose him
But then again I am falling against myself and am stuck spinning in my thoughts
They are unpleasant and unforgiving
Kindness has no place there
Quiet is when they’re loudest

A
242 · Aug 2015
Untitled
She is a storm, full of power and determination.
At times scattered and frightening when
the lightning nearly strikes the ground on which
you stand.
Then when she weeps,
all things are is a gloom,
hidden by the thick mist in the
air.
The way she rumbles and crashes
about, pouring the troubles that
have become too heavy to carry alone
to the ground, where you are
standing.
Your umbrella is beaten and blown
inside out, yet you hang on tight.
The storm can't rage infinitely.
It may take a few hours or days,
but the sun will shine through
the heavy gray clouds eventually.
July 30th, 2015
9:58 PM

What does this poems mean to you?
222 · Apr 2016
united
Two crooked smiles
where one side bares the burdens and cannot lift its own corner.
But when it meets its partner, together they can smile.
completely, whole.

A
212 · Apr 2017
Social drinking
How
Am I feeling
Uneasy
Cold eyes gazing over a warm
Glowing crowd.
People who can chatter and laugh
Be themselves without thought
And thinking that they hardly fit.
For a night of carefree fun
I must drink
Sipping ease
and warmth into my cold exterior.
Loner
Awkward
Where do I belong?

Do i know myself?

— The End —