Every word I write
Every paper I use

I am killing trees

Every word you write
Every paper you use

You are killing trees

Every homework assignment given
Every essay turned in

We are all killing trees

We do it so naturally
A press of a button
A stroke of a pen

Trees are so fragile
Like a life

If we can **** trees so easily
Who says we will think more about destroying anything else
Including each other

So next time you reach for paper
Think of trees
Think of life

Veterans of war show off their scars
Telling their frightening tales of battle
The say " right here, in this very spot
Is where the age old bullet was shot"

But what about the others
The girls with troubling pasts
That haunt their every hour
They sit in the corner clad in black their expressions turned sour

And when the pieces of themselves
Come some what back together
Like the veterans they have scars
Only its from their emotional wars

To the eye their perfect plain and pretty
Another person in the crowd
Another nameless happy soul
No sees, no one helps, there is no one to console

Alone they fight their treacherous battle
Friendships lost, loved ones gone
And when it's done the world goes on
To as if nothing was ever wrong

And if that one is found alone
Crying in the corner
They all question what's the matter
Since scarless is her stature

No one questions
No one helps
She has nothing physical to show
Yet there are scars, only emotional, you know

No bandaid can fix the heart break
And the world doesn't know how
To unchain her from the repeating past
And forever it seems this will last

Fabric of fate, woven emotions, of which life is sewn.

My morning was Ivory satin
smooth and pure and bright
Birthday buzz and laughter
Bubbling thoughts of you
Noon was green velvet
Natural and warm and soft
Everything seemed to be right
And I couldn't wait to talk to you again
But the afternoon was black leather
When you texted me hi
Just to say goodbye
And the evening was ebony nylon
Flimsy, dark and easily torn
I tried to hide my crestfallen disappointment
But family is family
And they will be jerks
But no matter if you are immediate family
Or not
They can be your red wool
To keep you warm and away from harm
even when you are hurting silently
I shifted to a guarded charcoal chiffon
And he told me the way only a family member could tell
I know something's wrong
I promised I was fine even though I was becoming
Silver lace, fragile and tearing at the seams
He never spoke of it again
But for the rest of the night
He protected me from anymore damage
A tough sort of defensiveness
That meant everything to me
And for an evening, he was cashmere
Because I was touched that he could and would show me such strong family love
Without saying anything to me at all

Repost if a family member, immediate or not has done something kind for you to make them cashmere
Please comment! I love to read interpretations of my poetry! Especially long ones.

Be brave
You already are
Look what you survived through
The wounds of your past have closed
The seemingly endless chapter ended
The dark bruises faded lightly
The battle left you scarred
And your still here
Be brave

How do I start this?
How do I express this to you?
Well, here's the thing.
I like you. It's simple at that.
Sometimes I'll joke around,
tie your shoelaces together, say mean things,
but deep down I really do love you.
And I want you to go and give your heart to her,
not to me.
Why?
Because she will be so much better for you.
She's sophisticated,
I am quite casual.
She's smart and cute,
I'm average and insane.
She's pretty and skinny,
I am fat and ugly.
She's the one that you stare at,
I'm just that thing, that accessory, an amusement for you to use.
Though some part of me wants her to break your heart and hand it back to you,
I don't think she will, not with the way she looks at you,
and the glimmer in you eyes as you look at her,
like shimmering like sun reflections on water.
Some other part urges me to lie to myself,
they won't be together long, they'll break up,
you can finally be noticed for once,
you'll be the heroine, be the shoulder he needs.
But that's the selfish part of me.
I realize, at least he'll be happy right?
It doesn't matter if I'm content
with sitting here in the corner,
alone and observant of the love that surrounds me,
while I stay here in my sullen pitiful sphere.
It doesn't matter.
It's the way your heart beats and the way your smile
inches across your face
instantly making it all the more beautiful,
that's what matters. You'll be happy,
with someone you deserve,
someone you need in your life,
a piece of perfection,
not a berserk,
ugly,
fangirly,
lovey-dovey
nerd/geek like me.
You two turtle doves are perfect for each other,
perfect looks,
perfect grades,
perfect everything.
A barbie doll to your ken.

So please,
walk to her now,
hand her your heart,
that full and crimson thing
that beats so fast next to her, and so slow next to me,
give that to her
while I'm not looking.
Give me some mercy.

Last of all,
good luck.
I hope she will care for your heart,
the way you might care for hers,
with adoration,
kisses,
caresses,
words whispered in whimsicality,
little pearls of treasures only found with two turtle doves.
Not that I would know. And I do hope I will know someday
what it feels like to be one of those turtle doves.

Her window was open
And her eyes were closed
She sat there in the passenger seat,
Music blasting
I could hear her singing
And her voice was haunting
Her green car drove past me
In a blur
But I recognized her face
From what feels like a thousand year ago
But was only a few
Back when she was a little girl
She finally looks happy
She never used to
…
Time passes and one day I’m at a bus stop
Waiting
Just waiting
I sit on the bench as the smell of cigarettes
From the smokers nearby
Engulfs me
And there she is
In the crowd of people
But I recognize her
I catch her eye, and I see her expression flicker ever so slightly
Her eyes narrow in dislike for a split second
But as if it never occurred, she looks away causally
As if she were staring at something just over my shoulder
Another bus pulls up and she boards it,
Flashing a polite smile at the bus driver
She is so much more pleasant to those who don’t know her
But I have given her reason not to like me, of course
One of those regrets you try to drown with an oh well
…
Fraternity party
I’m haven’t even finished my first beer
There she is, in a would-be modest dress, but she made the mistake of accepting a drink from a stranger so the front is unbuttoned more than I know she usually would let be, sober.
The punch was spiked, as usual. I know, because one of my buddies did it.
Too many hands on the giggling mess of the grown up little girl I used to know.
I never really particularly liked her, but something about it bothers me.
She is like a part of my childhood. Nothing important, just a blurred piece of the framework, but still.
I can’t let her be defiled by the man she doesn’t know with clear bad intentions who is leading her by the small of her back out the door, his hand slipping a little too low.
I tap the guy on the shoulder and he scoffs at my request to leave her alone.
She is confused but vaguely recognizes me and earnestly informs me she doesn’t like me because I didn’t used to be very nice to her.
I tell her I know and I’m sorry but she’s got to listen to me.
I manage to convince her not to go home with the man.
I get her to tell me how she got here, she drove herself, alone.
She is far too drunk to remember where she lives and she doesn’t know anyone here.
Reluctantly, I bring her to stay at my house for the night.
She vomits and passes out in my car on the drive there.
I carry her in and mean to drop her on the couch but I find myself pacing up the stairs to my bedroom.
I gently lay her down, and watch her sleep. She doesn’t scowl as much as she used to when I knew her when she is sleeping. I notice she is pretty, then grab a pillow and sleep downstairs on the couch for the night.
…
I wake up and roll over to the sight of her lying on the other side of my bed.
Her eyelids flutter open and I smile at my beautiful 7 year girlfriend.
A used-to-be part of my childhood, and now a part of me.
I whisper her name, and pull out a diamond ring.
…
Hop off the plane when it touches down back from my business trip and dash to the nearest taxi to the hospital
Maybe all those three AM cravings and watching my beloved wife cry because of the hormones will be worth it when I hold my baby girl in my arms
I reach the waiting room, holding the little baby blue (appropriately so) socks I bought for my unborn daughter, and a nurse stops me asking my name.
They take me into a room. Why is no one smiling when the most wonderful baby the world has ever seen is either born, or about to be?
The doctor comes in and as he speak I decode the medical terms and slowly his words fade to a ringing silence. All I catch is: I’m so sorry about your late wife and child.
…
Blue socks on my dresser.
Her picture by my bed.
My half empty bed.
Never to be married again.
Who else could I possibly fall in love with? Besides the girl with her car window open and her eyes closed?
…

Repost if you know anyone with a child or wife or both lost in childbirth.
Comment please! I LOVE to read people's interpretations of my work.

Silence
Is
Golden
But
Screaming
Is so much more fun

She's the quiet one, who
never stands out the chick
who'll rather write a poem
than speak to a crowd.

The one nobody notices
when she walks down the
hall, the girl who's voice is
unknown but her mind's
full of thoughts.

She's the introvert, the girl
in disguise, the one who
builds up walls so her
life won't collapse.

The one whose tough
exterior in reality is
full of cracks.

She's a timid soul, a
daydreamer at heart,
creating the ideal future
while she tries to
forget her past.

The person who tells
her pains to a stranger
who asks, but can't
have a conversation
with those that are
by her side.

She's your classmate,
she's your sister and
friend, she's your
cousin and niece, she's
your aunt, she's your tale.

she's the girl that stares
back when you glance
at the lake, the one
no one knows, she is I,
she is her.

We are hydrocarbons
We all burn
We are all laughed at
And we all get our turn

We produce our own enemies
We almost smother ourselves in sadness
We all release CO2
When we die from this poem's badness

We all want to be superior
We all want to be the equalizer
We want to be leerier
Without being the sympathizer

We smite and are smited
We hurt and we heal
We spite and are spited
And have a tenuous relationship with what's real

We are hydrocarbons
We are equal despite what we aspire
And if you don't agree
I'll light you on fire

~~~


A rich woman
Walked down the street
She met a workman she didn't greet.

But though they didn't
Stop to TALK
They were able
To exchange THOUGHTS...

Hey! Look at me! I'm all that!
Think you're cool with that
baseball hat?

I'm in my designer clothes
I'm Dior from head to toe.

I have snakeskin shoes
And pure silk pants
My perfume comes
From Paris France...

Designer Bags and golden rings
Jeweled tiaras and a
Real mink coat?
What to do with such trivial things?
Except wallow in the
Superficial joy they bring...

Please. Humour me
With stacks of DOUGH
That's street lingo
For cash you know.

I'll sit here and strum my guitar
Whilst I look up
And count the stars...

Please... take your spoils and go...
I don't have time for spoiled souls
I'll enjoy the things that matter most
While you celebrate
charades and toast.

If life's a charade,
At least I'm a player!
You're sure not gonna
Run for Mayor!

C'mon DOUGH BOY
You know that you want
All the goodies that we flaunt!

Yes... I have a real MINK!
And my money has a STINK

But who supports
The people you are?
Why! You're nothing but
Shiftless POOR!

I ain't gotta pay
to play this game
I got a Full Heart I'm all IN!

You can't just buy
Yourself some PEACE
I've learned life lessons
To pay my lease!

Your whole life is inside your wallet
And I'm sorry... but I must call it...

Inside your soul is
bankrupt and foreclosed
It's sad to see happiness is posed

Shiftless, classless and
OUT OF STYLE
But your pretty golden pennies
Ain't worth my while...

You've got cash, but it's just CRASS
Lady. Take your fortunes and

KISS MY BOOTS!!!

WELL! I never!

The last thing she thought
As she hurried away.
She's filthy rich NOW...

... but one day she'll PAY.


(C) SoulSurvivor
(C) Frank Ruland


~~~

I am
                             A dancer
                             A writer
                             An artist
                             A musician
A creator
                             But if you
                             Wanted
                             To see
What I create
                             A dance
                             A story
                             A painting
                             A song
I would
                             Refuse
                             Turn Red
                             Stall
                             and Deflect
Your attention
                             Because
                             I am
                            Afraid
                            My creations
Will let you
                            Judge me
                            Criticize me
                            Hate me
                            Mock me
They are
                            A piece of me
                            A thought
                            An emotion
                            A fleeting moment
And they are
                            Mine
So if I show you
                            I trust you
Please don’t betray my trust

When everyone is saying
How much they hate
Their appearance, personality, althetic and academic abilities

I stand away
Awkward and quiet
Offering no opinion

Not because I am happy with myself
But because I am so insecure
I am afraid that pointing out my flaws

Will make you see

The parts of me I hate
The parts of me I hide
The parts of me I tried to change

Yet failed

Because I have what I got
I can't change it
To fit in with everyone else

I can't be someone else
Because I am not them
I'm me

And in some way that has to be enough