What should I write about?
This thought,
Or that?
Think I could combine them all
Into one poem?
Or will it turn out
A mess?

Should I use this word,
Or another?
What if I misuse it?

No,
The words don't click together
They sound so foreign.
Goodness,
I can't find a word
To describe this!
What shall I do?

I've used this word
So many times
Repeating it over and over
In this poem.
I need some synonyms
But they all don't fit!

Why is it
That it sounded so beautiful
In my head
But hurts my eyes
On the paper?

Perhaps
I shouldn't write
For now.

Her eyes
Were always
Full of mischief
They sparkled with delight,
And always had
That special glint in them.

But if you looked closely enough
You would see
Swollen rims
From crying herself to sleep.
That sparkle
You'd think you knew so well
Was merely a mask
For the true dullness
And lack of hope
Within.

And perhaps
If you looked longed enough
You would see
The very beginnings
Of a supressed tear.

If only
I realised what was going on
In her eyes
Before it was too late.

Us poets
Aren't we all the same?

We all write about
Love, lust, heartbreak, hatred.
Depression, self-harm, recovery, relapses.
The sun and the rain, the breeze, the moon and stars.
Remembering, forgetting, past mistakes.

Do we not centre around these topics?

It's all just a matter of
Twisting, manipulating
Phrases used one too many times.
Adding a touch of yourself here,
Another hint there.

To conjure something
We call
Original.

Is there anyone
Who doesn't cut
In the middle of the night
And hides their scars
Underneath bracelets
And baggy sweaters
But feels sad, suicidal,
Crying in bed,
Losing hope in life?

Is there anyone
Who doesn't starve
Or force herself to puke
With a mind that
Condemns every bit of fat
But feels
Insecure,
Thinks herself as ugly?

Is there anyone
Who isn't ostracised,
Mocked, bullied,
Betrayed
But still feels alone,
Left out,
Out of place?

Is there anyone
Who's neither here
Nor there?

Is there anyone else
Like me?

Oh, save me
From the depths of
Immature
Teenage
Infatuation.

She looked at how
Everyone was so sad,
So in need of help,
And thought,
"Maybe I could do something
To help!"

And then she realised,
Laughing bitterly
That she couldn't even
Save herself.

Tossing and turning
Heavy breathing,
Tears of frustration.

Screaming at my brain
To dismiss, erase, forget
All memories of you.

But it rebels
Like a stubborn teenager
It eyes me
In a huff, says,
"No!"
And proceeds to
Replay
Those moments
Over and over again.

My exasperation
Soon turns into
Sadness, despair, misery
Knowing that
It's all gone.

Forgetting you
Why can't it be easy?
Like how dried leaves
Are swept by the breeze
Into the river
And float away to
The point of no return.

Feeding myself
Thoughts of how
It's hopeless
Just doesn't work.

I roam
These empty hallways
Tread on broken glass
That reflects you
And the little moments
I treasure so much.

I use my hands
Those which slipped into yours so perfectly
Like a puzzle piece
To pick up those shattered pieces.
They're scratched
By the sharp edges
That pierce my skin.

I carry those wisps of memories
in my arms
Those I used to wrap around you
In warm embrace.
They're ******,
Cut by the glass
Pressed against them.

I roam these empty hallways
Trying to
Collect memories,
Both good and bad.
But inside,
I hope that
Maybe,
Just maybe
I'll find you too,
Roaming these empty hallways
Picking up the
Fragments of us.

She was
An illusion
Of delusion.

Oh, ocean
Take me away
Envelope me in your waves
Wash me away from the shore.

Freeze me
Numb my pain
Let me drown
In your vastness.

Let me sink
To the bottom of the ocean.

I'm so sorry.

For avoiding you,
Ignoring you.

Feeling jealous
When you talk to other girls.
Yet not bothering
To make the first move.

When I do,
I'm sorry
If I appear clingy.

I'm not good enough for you.

But I wonder,

Does all this matter to you?

Sorry, for disturbing you.

When I like a song
I'll play it a hundred thousand times
And when that's done,
I'll avoid it like the plague,
Skipping it on my iPod.

When I like a craft
I'll put my all in it,
And when that's done,
I'll slowly lose interest,
Finding another hobby.

I'm fickle-minded
Can't make up my mind,
Jumping from one thing
To the next.

That's why
I've never told you that
I love you.

Just like the sun,
He burst
Into fiery red flames.