At night I lie awake,
My mind begins to run away from the reality
I wish to escape

Sometimes I am a poet,
Sitting at my mahogany desk,
Writing in perfect calligraphy,
That I've spent millions of years perfecting,
The ink from my quill staining this parchment,
Painting my thoughts unto the world,
Better than my brush ever could.

Sometimes I am a singer,
Staring into the void of an auditorium,
Breathing out my heart and soul,
For a small group of people,
That have suddenly become my universe.

Sometimes I am in his arms,
Soft kisses brushing the hairs atop my head,
His arms around me,
His heartbeat matched only by my own,
Our song quietly escaping his lips,
Lulling me to sleep.

Or…

Millions of light-years away,
Where I no longer am me,
I just am.
I am one with everything,
The glowing gas clouds,
Sparkling,
Filled with millions,
Billions,
Trillions, of tiny stars.

The stars reflected in my eyes,
Their fire setting my heart ablaze,
And I lose all thought.

There,
Among the stars,
I am free...

My face is round
My jaw is square
My hair is short
And my skin is fair

These locks are red
But fade to brown
And I've got freckles
All around

My lips are curved
In a permanent pout
My eyes look sad
Without a doubt

My brows are flat
And though I've tried
Most find it hard
To look me in the eye

If you're one of the few
To gaze towards me
You'll see these pools
Of hazel-green.

My ******* are C’s
But you can't tell
For most of the time
I hide them well

My curves are small
I have thick thighs
So please don't look
At my slightly plump size

I looked in the mirror
And all I saw
Was an image of me
And all my flaws

Now you know
What's behind this screen
And under all that
I am me.

I'm sorry, guys.
I'm no poet.
I just happened to be on this site because I got on before you had to be accepted.
I can't write poetry for crap.
All these things I write aren't poetry,
I'm just typing out my depressing thoughts,
Hitting enter a bunch of times,
And displaying what a disgusting human being I am to this beautiful community.

I give up...
This is like my motto.
But I'm a hypocrite.

I wake up every morning,
Wishing I hadn't.

I'd end things myself,
But I  just freeze every time I come close.

Last time...
I was so weak, I had to make one last call...
And that broke me.
I sat there, pills in my hand,
Too weak to say anything but "I'm sorry" over and over while they begged me not to do it...

I wasted too much time, and the next thing I knew, I'd been pinned down, too weak to scream...
Let me go...*
I'd breathe out those words, almost to quiet to hear...

Then I woke up the next day.
"I love you.  Thank you for being alive."
I actually thought maybe life was worth it,
For a short amount of time...

Now I'm here,
Tears on my keyboard,
Bile tickling my throat,
Wishing I had done it then...


I don't know what else to say.


I can't say goodbye....so I'll see you tomorrow.


I wish that weren't the case.