Dear moonchild,
If you are reading this
You know about the sun
How its rays mean it's our time to sleep
Because we aren't the normal creatures of the Earth
Sometimes they tell us
That our smiles are menacing
When we meet up at the in-betweens
Dawn, and dusk
I've only known a few day wakers
They found me too profound
My silvery skin
And gray hair too much from them
My smile brought tears
My skin too real for them
You see, moon child,
You'll always be too different for the day wakers
But it doesn't matter
Because we sleep with the moon
The natural state of the Earth
In the forest
With all of the other little creatures
They thought too extreme
Or not extreme enough for them
We are never right
But I think
In their pink skin
And brown hair
They look like fools
Their stupidity detracting away from their non-existence
So moon child,
Only rise when the moon is up
And sleep when it is down
We don't follow the rules
Of the day waker's sun

You keep telling me words
That I can't understand

Because my brain has checked out
I am no longer there

People keep talking to me
But I can't hear their voice

My head hurts
From all of this warbled noice

My heartbeat has slowed
I wanted to go to bed

But you are stopping me
From resting my weary head

The shadows roll over me
Eat me alive
I let them because I know they are my friends
They hide me from society
The jungle of a community that we call the earth

I seek something dark in the middle of the day
Wishing you would just bring me inevitable pain
Seeking something dark
I'm hiding from you
Hiding from who you are

Seeking something dark
I let you overwhelm my pain
When you take over my brain
You leave me alone and unfeeling
Seeking something dark
Leave me alone in an unclear murk

Bones rattle together
As the dead start to rise
As the population decreases
Secret have started to die
Until that one day
When secrets
Are no longer what they are
Secrets are an ever seething
White marble scars

and here i am again
running to this website
to cower behind a screen
and try to make people feel like they're actually needed
hoping that for once,
my pathetic existence meant something to someone
that they can read my poem and know that
you're not alone
in feeling like you're unwanted
like you could exit this earth stage left
and no one would care
you're not alone in feeling like a burden
or a phase for someone to grow out of,
someone else has been there.
so here i am
again
cowering behind a screen
thinking to myself
if only i could make a difference
if only i could save a life
if only my words could have so much meaning to someone somewhere
that i might just be part of the reason they didn't die
part of the reason they feel loved
or understood
because the world is a cruel place
people don't play by the rules

and usually someone winds up getting hurt
not you darling
not  today.

Eyes don't lie
They tell the truth
The eyes
Betray the lie
That comes from the betrayers
Truth

But some people
Will never know
The difference between truth
And lie
Some people will only know
What hides behind your cold glass filled eyes

You cannot draw me
Can't properly express me in words
You want to write me down
Try to convey your hurt
But you cannot do so
When words cannot rightfully tell
What you've been through
If you've been through hell

You cannot draw an emotion
Even if you can bend it to your will
You can, however, bleed it dry
And let the overflow spill
Into your poems with intentions unknown
And hope for the best of luck
When everything is gone
And you've got nothing left

Emotion is hard to see
To the untrained eye
But those who have seen the deepest depths
Know when others are about to cry

Anybody there?
I ask in my head,
Answered by silence
Something isn't right
There was always a voice
Telling me I'm a loser
Or something of the sort
But today there was no voice
Not even a whisper

I want my enemy back
I want her to tell me something bad
To feel something again
But when I ask if anyone is there
I am answered with a lack
Something missing
That will probably be back
Goodbye for now
My long lost friend
I'll ask later
Is anybody there?

ACHHHHHH!
Let me go, just let me be
Don't clutch me in your trap of poetry
I am tired of writing words
That don't have any meaning to me
I am tired of doing this
Just so I can get noticed
For me this isn't a hobby
This is something I want to do
For the rest of my years
I want to write away every little thing
Every tear, every fear
I am tired of writing for recognition
I am tired of not being able to get my book into the public
I am tired of not being able
To share what I want
I am tired of not being able to share my lovely books
I am tired of being trapped in recognition
I am just---- ACCCHHHHHHHH forever

I didn't even know
That I would stay up this long
Because I am TIRED guys
Not crazy so..
leave me alone
When you say
That I should let the words go to sleep
because when my head is done for
anything that is said
written
communicated in one way or another
it is so ******* done
that there is no meaning
to be had
other than I am ******* tired

Maintaining control
is the stage where the predator
will do anything to keep his victim
a victim
He sits on the couch
With his arm slung over you
His breath is sour with alcohol
And cruelty
Knowing that he has power over you
There will be no changing the story
The story that contains
Both you and him
Is not your and his story
It is only his, and it will only ever be his
Because of him, you have been completely and utterly
Diminished

**** is the only crime
That saying you "couldn't resist"
Is a defense
Whereas for other crimes
That is a confession

Stop saying you can't resist
Because you can
And not doing something
Is easier than doing it

People don't **** outfits
People **** people
Don't say she was asking for it
No one asks to be violated

No one

And everyone can resist

It's

So

*******

Easy

I looked into those green eyes
and found warmth there
the potential that you might just care about me
as I cared for you
a looked into those green eyes
and found that they didn't flinch away
when they met these dull rocks in my skull
I looked into those green eyes
and hoped beyond hope
that they held the same emotion mine did
that same feeling
I felt for you
when you first met me

What is this feeling?
This anxiety about everything
Makes me feel so sick
I can't eat without regretting it
Without wanting to gag
I haven't slept eight collective hours
Within the last three days
I don't know what's happening to me
But I hate it
With all of me
I hate that I can't make it go away
Just by deep breathing and being mindful
That it keeps breaking into my thoughts
I keep trying to blame it on you
But I don't think it is
I think all of the years feelings
All of the ones I pushed aside so I could feel them later
I think they all chose now
To freak out
And make me hurt
And this beast the keeps producing the butterflies in my stomach
It isn't you or me,
It's just all of those things
That I didn't want in my life
Bringing me down

There are so many rules for poems
A sonnet must be 14 lines
With iambic pentameter
If you write Shakespearean
And I forget how to write Petrarchan
Buy all I know is the rules

Then there are haikus
Made to be simple and short
But I can never get the right syllable count
So what am I to do?

Then there is the exphrastic poems
Which I don't know how to describe
Other than they describe art
And I simply cannot

There are so many rules to the write
I don't know what is right anymore

If there were poisons that you had to drink with every grudge
I would be beyond dead
If there were knives that stuck into your soul with every tear
I would be a human porcupine quills made of steel
If there was a bullet hole for every worthless love
I would look like a mushroom without spores
If there was something for everything
I would be nothing

I am a rocky terrain
With no hospitality to human life
A vast desert too harsh
For life to prosper
Let alone survive
I am a river with
Rapids flowing white
Better to not look at me
For fear of being swept away
I am a sharp glass
With a beautiful edge
Leave me alone
I'm hazardous

The counted down when I would find my soul mate
It told me I would find him
When I found him
But now I am with him
And he's been treating me pretty bad
And he'***** me more than once
Told me he was sorry
When everything was worse

But these punches were mental
And the pain was "all in my head"
But I knew that more was happening
Than anyone could know
Because this was abuse, and I knew it
I've been living away from home
Because when your home is your mind
And it's being hurt,
You have to move out

And that's what I did
This is where my clock lead me
Into the rabbit hole
And nothing has been the same since

She won't say no
Never has
She lets people into her life
A life they haven't let her begin
She is living a lie
Just trying to please herself
I am tired of this nonsense
I can't help it anymore

I want her to know
How to empathize
When all she does is yell at me
And tell me that I can't understand
When all I have done
Is been too old for my body
And slaving away like an adult
The only difference is that I
Don't have a job

She likes to tell me
That I am just young
To enjoy while I still can
What she doesn't understand
Is that youth doesn't mean much now
That youth is just something
Meant to bring you down
I have never been young.
I have lived all my life
Like I am ten years older than my age
Right now,
I am 40,
And I am handling your ****

i don't even think that i'm heart broken
i don't think that it hurts that much
i just feel something else inside that isn't okay
that isn't happy or light
it's like an infection running deep
heavily dragging at my heart
like stupidity and hopelessness
i'm trying to dream up a way
to make this hurt less
so far,
not much is working

I've always hidden in the shadows
Casted by everyone I've ever known
But I've never casted a shadow for anyone
Not even to block my eyes their sun

No meaning
So many words
Trying to get more numbers
More people reading
I want people to see
What is really happening
To me
I want people to see that I am a person
A human being
I want people to see
That I am here, even if I feel like I am not
I want people to read my passion
I want them to read what I worked on
Every night
For my young life
I want people to see what they did to me

Without a title
Is not without meaning
So don't judge people of their title
Or lack thereof
Without a title
Is just not letting you know
What is hidden within
It's better that way
More mysterious

Respect existence
Or expect resistance

Why shouldn't we stand up?
We're people just like you!

Some days I want to cry for all the women and PEOPLE who were violated
And I want to scream at all the people who didn't stand up for them

Respect me as a person
And I'll treat you like a friend

Don't expect respect
If you don't treat me the same

All are equally
Equal to each other

Skin color doesn't determine who you are
YOU determine which you are

Act like a resectable human
Not like an authority who has "every rite"

Abortion isn't for everyone
It's like children

"He was laughing at me
While I got the husband stitch
When the doctor said 'I'll stitch her up nice and tight for YOU' "

I'm done doing things for people
Who do nothing for me

I am tired
Of wanting to create a masterpiece
But not having enough energy to do it.
I feel bored
I want to do something
But when I get up
To create that beautiful masterpiece
I am drawn back by knowing I don't have the talent
And that whatever it is I make
Is never going to be seen
So I realize, what the hell is the point?
There isn't one, I know now
If no one sees what I make
There is nothing that I can do
To make it real
So I guess that I will never be seen
And my great masterpiece will never be revealed

All of the people around me want me to be happy
I can't say that I don't deserve it
But it certainly is hard to write it
I wanted to have full control
To have the reader in my grasp
I wanted to see them writhe with pain
That I will always have

I don't let go of my past
It will never truly fade
Even though I should let it go
I can never truly move on
Sometimes I just want other people to hear me out
To understand that I am who I am for a reason

I wanted to write a poem for happiness
But for me, I think that it can never truly be done

I always hated writing formats
Because if I wanted to be put into a format
I wouldn't be writing creatively
That's why I write freestyle

If anyone can understand the world of restrictions
It was me when I was a teen
I couldn't get away
And I hated it

Bu then poetry came along
And told me everything was okay
That there weren't rules
If I didn't want there to be any

But people started shoving formats in my face
Telling me that I should write this
But I didn't want to
So I didn't

I sat there on my computer,
And reveled in the fact that my freedom was in words
And that I didn't have to have rules
But even that was short-lived

Don't tell young artists
That they should do something different
Because you can't put a price on art
And you can't tell them what isn't art
And what is

What is a hiaku
But a poem for nature and you
Tell me, illuminate

soooo...
as much fun as it is
to break myself over and over again
I'll get extra critical
of the boy I want
making him no longer desirable
just about as much so as I am to him
soon I won't notice him
and I'll be able to ignore the texts
I'll make him so unworthy of everything that is me
and my chaotic being
sorry
I don't mean to
this is just my mind doing a poor job protecting me

how would you know
how close to my heart these words are
how would you know
that i no longer care
about what is wrong
and what i want
how would you know
that i am no longer a good version of myself
how would you know?
you wouldn't

I can understand
That it might be strange
To write of green eyes and their depth
When really I know nothing of it
I was lost in golden eyes
And pretty smiles
Admiring your face when you didn't notice
I never really saw, did I?
Kind of ironic

She is 70 with a lot on her mind
She is 70, and one of a kind
But recently, she's been acting
Like she is 5
Holding everything in
And coping with bad jokes
And relying on other people
To do the most basic of tasks
She 70 years old
Acting like she's five
She wants to antagonize
And act like she's 2
She wants her bottle
Or at least to annoy you
She's 70 years old
And acting like she's five

finally
i'm writing on a computer
sharing all of my woes
and tired mind
and everything
with a world of poets that could care less
that could scroll without liking
without even reading it
without leaving a like
because my writing isn't worth another worthless click
on a stupid computer
just another passerby
on this web of lies
that has completely consumed my life

I feel better now
Like I can live in my skin
I feel better with my soul
Less of a need to fit in
I think that I am beautiful
And for once in a very very long time
I don't feel fat
Even though I probably am
I just feel like I could go on existing
In this pale sack of skin
After all, what matters most
Is what happens to your soul
Your body is just a vehicle
Learn it from the best people,
Right?

So trust me when I say,
If you want to take this time to be better
If you want to improve
You've got my support
But you're already perfect
Pure and true

I already know I'm stupid
And that I don't have a brain
I don't need to be reminded
So can you just treat me the same?

And I know that I'm not pretty
And no one will love me when I look like this
But I don't care
And I already know

I already know that I'm not sporty
And that I'm out of shape
But I don't care
And don't say it to my face

Somewhere out there
On the internet so vast
Is a secret society of poets
Who in their works bask

Somewhere out there
Is hidden from the world
A little site of rebels
That walk a path all their own

The title of the page is unknown
Even to the poets who've been there for eons
Hidden in the lesser clicked pages
The poets hide in their secret society

They all click on the link once a month
To tell each other of all their poems they wrote
Then when the day is done
And each is logged off
The secret site disappears again
The society lost

Somewhere out there
Is a secret society
Of poets just like us
With disappearing links
And words like a gun

Tiredness is okay
Don't feel bad if you are tired at the end of a long day
Lay down in your cozy bed
Let the covers drown you in laziness
If you are tired rest
Because you deserve it

maybe i shouldn't break myself over a boy again
maybe i shouldn't weep over the loss of something i never actually had
maybe this guy is bad for me
and he'll break me in half,
but at this point i could care less
all i know is that this is what i'm feeling
and what i'm feeling hurts so much
like sticking your heart in burning water
and hoping that it will still keep you alive
it might be cynical,
but to me,
it's the only feeling that seems right

Why do we let rough love
Into our lives
Just laugh when it's a person we know
A person who we love

Why do we see people with bruises
And just walk by
Not think about them
For the rest of our loving day?

When your sister wears big sunglasses
And your brother wears long sleeves
When your mother starts smoking
To dull the pain
Why do we walk away?
Why do we shut them out
Because the abusers
Are "good people"
And the abused "must have done something wrong"

So tell me,
Why the hell do we accept
"Rough love?"

I carry the last name
Of a man who violated me
They didn't change my name
Because I was too young
To speak the truth
About what happened to me

But when you're three
And you're talking about things
You don't learn about until you're 11
People should believe you, right?

The court smiles at me, a menacing grin
As they tell me 'you're ****** for sure'
And then they walk away
Satisfied with their case

And here I am now
Writing that name on papers
Because they need my last name
But I don't belong to that name
Not does it belong to me

You can't hold me hostage with your name
You can't tell me that I'm crazy
That I'm lost my head
But what you can do is **** right off
And take your name with you

I hate this last name
That I have for the rest if my life
I hate this name you gave me
Along with your abuse

Writing with disgust
Everytime I write that stupid
Last name
Your name

Soft high voice
Embodiment of childish I
He reminds me of when I was happy
That's why I like him
He reminds me if young innocence
That was so long ago lost

I feel like a light bulb
Trapped in a lampshade
I am unable to shine
At my full potential
I am just glowing
A dull useless hue of gray
That is all people ever see
Please, remove my lampshade
Let me shine

No one wants to hear the truth
About the people behind the words

The singers who hide themselves
Amongst their guided armor of hurt

The poets whose pain drips from their pen
Their everlasting sword

The writers whose stories are
Really not that fake

Tell me when you want to hear the truth
I will speak it to your face

Instead of talking behind your back
Instead of making your heart ache

Don't tell me all the things I want to hear
Because the only thing that I want to hear

Is the truth from your very lips

sometimes I wonder if everything was just fine
would we still look at ****** the same way?
if we found a girl lying sleeplessly on the street
would we offer her a hand and be kindly
or would we just walk past saying to ourselves
that 'this is what they made it
everything is alright so she must be fine'
if we continued to say this would we lose sleep at night?
or would everything be okay
because everything was just fine

if someone came up to me
with slits on their wrists
and desperation in their eyes
would and turn them away and watch them cry
just because everything was supposed to be fine?
or would I sit down next to them and tell them to talk
ask them to tell their story even if it's done?
would I just say 'everything is peachy
I don't know what you'd want with marks on your wrist
when you could have used a gun'?
or would I say 'everything is okay'
as I brushed her hair from her face
and watched at the pain started to dissipate

what would I do if everything was fine???

I don't feel anything right now
Not a distinction of pain or sorrow
Nor a tad bit of happiness, let alone glee
I'm sorry to say that I feel nothing

The fake words upon your lips
Beckon me closer to everything that is you
Pulling me into a world
That is drenched in blue

Nothingness creeps upon me
Like an unrelenting stalker
I am the goal, I'm what it wants
All nothing wanted to do was feel

When the night is over
And we are no longer young
I want to remind you of the days of nothing
And all of what you've done to me

maybe there's something wrong
with the way i miss you
by the feelings in my heart
and maybe there's something wrong with the way
i feel nothing
when i should feel so much
when i feel something other than this nothingness
that lurks like a monster in my chest
this out-of-place feeling
that haunts me in my head
hopefully
it doesn't keep going on like this

It's all black and white
They tell me inside my small little brain
Don't question anything*
They say quietly
But I don't want to fall asleep
I am too tired a soul
To go down this long and weary road
I don't want to do anything but write
But I cry too much to see the screen
I wish it was all black and white
But I can't accept that
There are too many grey areas
On to many things
*It's not all black and white *
A small voice finally says inside
*There is some brown too

I'm in a land where the skies are dark in summer
And the walls are painted black
You are told to go to this world and never to turn back
You look up to the sky to find the sun has been painted red
And wake up to find yourself resting in your bed

You've made your bed of hopes and fears
Never to return
To that awful place of dread and tears
Yet still you yearn
For the days when you could find yourself
Within that black hole called sleep
And to feel the ebbing
And let yourself be engulfed into the eternal sea of dreams

maybe i should write about something they don't know about that much,
write about something that hurts me just the same
write about all of the pain i feel
when they tell me they understand
that someone finally knows about this body ruled by poor decisions and make shift tears
and feeling strange when another person looks at them
that wondering feeling
'will they ever understand me'
and crying when they do
that's what hurts most
is when they say they know how it feels
and they don't care that i feel that way
they still love me just the same
that, right there, is my breaking point

i don't know what i want from you
i don't know if my mind is strong enough to know
i guess i'll always be stuck in that permanent place
somewhere between hurting and feeling loved
something like i want to feel your hands brush my hair from my face
and wanting to cry into your shoulder from all of this pain
all of the confusion
maybe someday i'll understand what it is to feel
all i know right now
is that this feeling,
it isn't anything at all
bur a blur of nothing and somethings
like a painting that i completely messed up
and i hate that feeling so much