It's kinda cool how when life is normal
rainy days make me lethargic and unmotivated.
But when life is hard and I'm struggling
rainy days are the greatest comfort,
as if the earth is crying with me
saying that I'm allowed to feel it all

I write words with a blueprint in my mind
But somehow
Common sense always gets left behind

Like a parent trying to tame a child
I reign in the words
With an iron-grip bridle

But the words will do what they do
Because words my dear
Could never be controlled by you

12/17/2018

i'm a writer by nature
but that doesn't always mean my head's in the clouds
it means my mind steals bits of reality
pieces of people
and lines from others
i forget my place and
try to act as the main character
to create experiences
but wallflowers
are the best writers of all

you aren't him
no one will ever be.
if i'm being honest,
he isn't even him anymore.

because
the first boy I ever loved
I loved when we were 8
playing on the playground
the first heartbreak I had
I had when I was 10
two years went too fast

he grew into someone I no longer recognized
all harsh words
and scrutiny

I'm not me anymore
No longer can I look in the mirror
and say I see the 9 year old in love
with a boy who would still make
her hurt today.

you aren't him
which I am thankful for
I don't think my heart,
even 10 years later,
could handle another him

the way you make me feel
reminds of him
all sarcasm
and witt

but now the bite marks
that I'm trying to convince
myself are Love Bites
are still sore.

and yes,
I know I'm looking for validation
in the wrong places.
but so far it's all I can get

your hands  rough on my skin
your words rough on my ears

I'm beginning to think
the two of you

are more alike
thank I thought.

I have no grasp on my feelings anymore
I lost track of them crying on my bed room floor

Ive lost all sanity
All grip on reality

Standing against a tall wall
Knees weak from the journey and about to fall

I stare blankly at the wall with tears at the end of my eyelids
I cry out a scream of helplessness to anyone who would hear
But as always I am left alone to quiver in fear

With my fist tightened I throw it to the wall
A sharp sting grows within my fist and tears begin to fall

I fall to my knees and hold my wrist
With tears in my eyes I shout to the heavens and raise my ****** fist

The heavens shout back with a thunderous roar
And a rod of lighting strikes the soil beside me
At that moment a new feeling was born inside of me

I pull myself up and throw my fists to the wall
Over and over I punish my fists
And as tears fall down my eyelids

I begin to see the wall weakening to my fists
I throw another one and blood begins to pour to the floor
And I begin to realise I am at war

I look down to my ****** fists
I roll them up into a ball for one last try
And try hold the tears in as I cry

I set myself up and throw my fist to the wall
With the impact, the shock of my hands shattering sends me to the ground
And I lay there with no sound

I punch the devil in the face and come back to life to see...

The wall has been broken and I have been set free.

-T

this poem
has a title
so that all who read it
know
that this poem has a meaning

because without something to reference
a name
or a title
things are left behind

just like me
in all the years
i tried to remain
untitled

rather

anonymous

untitled people
like me
are given no
second glances
no
first chances
no
social advances

nothing

left behind
like a poem
without
a name