Writing shity little poetry in this luxurious home,  it's not mine but who would have known. It doesn't really matter where I write
It's just my feelings pouring out from from the  inside
But sometimes there not my feelings at all
And for some they say I shouldn't write it at all
It may not get me anywhere in life but it is just really nice to sit down and write
Just to move people's feelings from here to there is like a super power I possess with just speaking out some air
So am I going to stop writing?  
Probably not,  I am going to do it weather you like it or not

When you feel empty it gets harder to write
Or to find motivation in the broad light
You just sit there breathing in air
Rocking back and forth in my hammock thinking about pleasure and dispare
Papers are due but I don't seem to panic
Knowing if I don't do them my grades will sink like the Titanic
I want my feelings to come back because I feel empty inside
At least there's no pain withering in side
For once this emptiness has put up a stride by demolishing the thoughts of suicide that were slowly trying to take over inside

Sniffing powdered white off my nannas vintage mirror
My inheritance,
My dignity gone
Nannas old, she's dying
Told me stories about the fairies in her head
Dancing her to sleep each night
Would dance upon my head ....

Naked told the winds of change to free your mind forgive the strange ....

I cannot look upon your world that I am not apart,
I daydream that in my head I'm somewhere in your heart....

When they see her they see straight perfect teeth, round full lips.
Dark hair and tan skin,
A shy smile
With big sweet eyes.
Small, petite, but with ***** up to her chin in all their perky triple d glory.
No stretch marks.
They all fall in love with her
Smiling at the ground when she asks why.
Then they all look up at her
Slow
And say
theres just something about you..

I sit down, giving up immediately.

I would wish
you here,

here as you were;
the eyes large

and deep
as oceans.

I would
have you

to hold,
back from

the dead,
not some place else,

but here instead.
I would

that you would
speak again,

soft, deep
and with that

hint of joy,
my lost son,

my grown man -
boy.

bring a book with you everywhere; you never know when you're going to be waiting longer than you intended.

- remember to take time out of your busy day to pause for a few seconds. listen to that clock tick. breathe. you're alive. the world is spinning around you and deep beneath your feet lies a fiery core. breathe. you're alive.

- you are worth so much more than you think and don't you dare settle for anything less.

- walk out of your home with open arms, instead of folded arms, because it's much easier to catch whatever life throws at you with open arms.

- remember to take breaks. you're human, not a robot.

- it's okay not to do anything you need to do. we all need those days. don't feel guilty for staying in bed when you should have been doing something important. again, you're human. it's okay.

- smile at strangers.

- read more. it could be the back of your shampoo, or an advert on the train. just read.

- sometimes you won't know what to do. this doesn't make you weak.

- remember, sometimes you won't get back the amount of love you gave away. you must be understanding. you must be willing to move on.

- lastly, please remember to keep trying with that casserole. one day, you'll get it right... (or near enough edible, anyway).