Amethyst

Amethyst Jun 2013

She was the quiet girl
in the back of the classroom.
The girl who never paid much attention
because she was too absorbed into
doodling on the notes.
Despite her lack of attention,
she was the girl that made straight A's.

She was the one
with the secret.
Everyday after the last bell rang
she walked away from the school
toward a broken home. The second
her foot hit the door step
she began to run into the back bedroom.
She hid up there,
kept away
from the poisonous gas
used to wilt
away the flowers in her heart.

She was the girl that kept it all inside
until there was no more room
to store her secrets.
The safe doors blew open,
destroying the locks.
The girl that broke down
in the hallway in between
lunch and study hall.

She was the girl
with the purple hair and
bright green eyes.

I'll probably go back and edit the phrasing. Dedicated to the girl that sat in the back of English class.

Amethyst Jun 2013

A Wise Man

A wise man once told me
to only obey my voice,
but my voice is a frail
flower caught in a hurricane.
Not just any flower, but
a dandelion. And with every
gust of wind I release new
seeds of ideas that spread
through the feild. The heavy
rain waters the thoughts,
Inspiring them to grow;
To flourish. So wise man
now you tell me, which thought
should my voice follow?

I added on to it and it turned out kinda positive.

Amethyst Jun 2013

The "F" Word

now i had a cousin named named Patrick
who had a lovely partner named Michael.
let me tell you, i did not believe in the myth of true love
until i saw the look in their eyes when they saw each other;
until i saw the way Michael looked at Patrick and the way Patrick looked back
with that tiny twinkle in the corner of his left eye.
naturally, i saw nothing wrong with the
situation. love is love and what they had was definitely
love.
they had a beautiful wedding on a beach in France
and they both still call that day,
that moment the best moment of their entire lives.
all was well and the newly weds honeymooned
all throughout Europe and the world seemed at peace.
until, they got off the plane that landed them right in Houston, Texas.
they walked out of the terminal hand-in-hand,
some "aw"ed, some looked away in disgust, but one young man
threw a balloon full of paint of my dear friend Patrick and spat on Michael
as he yelled the word "*******".
the new couple hadn't prepared themselves for this.
time continued to pass and they soon bought their
first house. a lovely little two-bedroom, 700 square foot home.
news quickly spread around the neighborhood of they new
"**** couple" down the street. one day,
Michael got home for work to find the garage
spray painted with blue ink reading, "God hates ****".
after hours of scrubbing away at the blue ink
that polluted the air, the couple finally learned a few rules.
they were not to show affection in public.
they were not to be open about their sexuality.
they were not to be themselves as long as someone else might see.
the years flew by and this love dwindled down to
nothingness.
the flame of that red glowing candle was put out.
years of avoiding public affections all for the fear
of being called a "******".
after three years of marriage the couple split.
claiming to no longer be in love, but they knew,
i knew, that they wanted to be in love.
they just didn't want to live in fear of being called the "F" word.

This is a true story about my cousin. Meant to be a spoken word poem.

Amethyst Jun 2013

Four

four nights
scars on my heart
tears down my cheeks
blood on my wrists

four days
words spitting from your mouth
punches escaping your fist
death reeking from your skin

four letters
carved into the side of my car
haunting my mind
creating your name

four failed attempts*
rope on a hook
gun to my head
all because of you

Amethyst Jun 2013

A Word of Advice (Dear Sophie)

The next time you meet someone like me,
please do not give them the false sense of
friendship. Do not make them think you care
if you plan to leave once they start talking to you.
I mean really talking. The kind of talking you do
at three in the morning because you can't sleep because
the nightmares won't leave you alone. Please do not
befriend them if you don't plan on staying. Please tell them
if you can't handle their life. Please don't leave them for a
new group of friends you met at a church. Do not
replace them with your god. I hope your god is proud
of you. Two years of acting like you cared must have
really impressed him. So go and live for the faceless and
abandon the one who really cared about you.
Go.
Leave.

*But the next time you meet someone like me, please do not give them a false sense of friendship.

This is sort of meant to be a spoken word poem

Amethyst Jun 2013

Pavement Tears

she asked why i cry so often,
everything seemed well.
i choked on a missing answer
and climbed onto a plated roof.
my shaking hand pointed
up to a nearly black sky.
i replied, i do not cry for you
or for me. i cry for the stars
that are hidden behind city lights.
the stars that will never bee seen.
the stars who hold so much
beauty and life, but we do not
posses the ability to cherish
the natural embers so we fill
the city with artifical sunshine
to protect us from the predicted
dangers of the moon and the stars.

*i cry for the stars that are hidden behind the city lights.

This doesn't really make a lot of sense. I found it in an old journal so I figured I would upload it anyway.

Amethyst Jun 2013

ladders

i finally
reached the top
of the ladder
but then the rungs
gave out and
i fell back
down
down
*down

old poem, figured i post it anyway