I placed my toe on
The ice, falling in too fast
Please try to catch me

You’re not a poet because you know those ‘fancy’ words
You’re a poet because every word you write comes straight from your heart

You’re not a poet because people admire your work
You’re a poet because you write for your own contentment and not for people's consent

You’re not a poet because you feel alone
You’re a poet because pen and paper are your biggest companions

You’re not a poet because you understand emotions better
You’re a poet because you let them flow freely

You are not a poet because you’ve failed in love
You’re a poet because you’ve been in love deeper than anyone else

You’re not a poet because you are strong
You’re a poet because you don’t hide your weaknesses

You’re not a poet because you can heal hearts
You’re a poet because you know what it means to be broken

The words left unspoken
are always harder to stomach
than those which were said.

She was like music,
and I longed to dance.

Her heart was the beat,
and I begged for the chance.

Her words were the vocals,
and I was put in a trance.

Her smile was the melody,
and I fell in love at first glance.

Twinkling Christmas lights
Brighten up December nights

Freezing cold air
Wind tousling my hair

Raindrops turn to snow
Putting on a beautiful show

Curled up by a fire ablaze
My favorite way to end each day

Music, laughter, and Christmas cheer
Hustle and bustle as the holidays near

Over the past few days
I have learned that music is poetry
Just adding a few notes
And using your voice to sing.
Music is lyrics
Written as poetry
That can be used to express many emotions.
Music is speaking what I cannot say

kids shouldn't go to rehab at fifteen
but you sent me anyways
which was too many days
I made a best friend there
her name was xollie
she talked of her life in California
how her grandma took her and her siblings in
all the empty bottle pills in the bin
rotten milk on the counter
she felt like she was going to rot away with it
she spoke of living with ghosts
guess it isn't always fun living on the coast
dropping acid and crushing pills
she didn't care if it kills
then there was Jane
from Las Vegas
she told us stories about being high on ****
she wanted the drug to bring her death
she slept in the dirt and hallucinated cops
and airplanes flying above searching
for her, no one was looking not even her pops
two black men told her they'd get her high
if she would just go to their apartment with them
you see Jane was a gem
the only one who didn't see it was her
once she was too high to be able to move
or speak, the mens intentions weren't pure
they tore into her heart
as she cried silent tears
she wishes she could just restart
just wishing to be free of the drug
and these men forcing themselves into her
then there was Chloe
her brother ******* her and her mom in a closet
Chloe thought of not being able to get high
that thought made her want to *****
he had found her bubbler
we stood around a fire
and burned the papers that held our worst memories
Jane doesn't throw her paper in
so I give her hand a squeeze
sometimes we think we deserve all the worst moments
but fourteen year old Jane did not
fifteen year old xollie did not