The Burden of Creativity
is that somethings I do
somethings I say or think
won't make sense to anybody but me

let's use for example Mr. Kubrick, first name Stanley
who took 178 takes of one scene grandly,
I'm sure everybody was tired and worn into the ground
but The Shining was one of the greatest movies around

so though this may sound self serving to a point
painting pictures with verbs and drawing landscapes with words isn't an easy way to make coin

but that's the curse of Creativity,
a lot of things Don't make sense, even to me

I'm that one girl, who sits in the back of the class.
Just so I can go unnoticed, make my life last.
I always hide in my room.
Just so I don't get beaten, and bruised.
The kids at school, call me worthless, and stupid.
The teachers, say I don't try, but I do try...
I try my hardest at everything, but they don't seem to notice.
My sibling's all they do is torture me.
As if they feed off of my pain, and fear.
I'm that one girl, who only wears ear buds.
To block out the voices of anger, and hurt.
My arms, are not that clean, or neat.
I'm not pretty, and when I say that I mean it.
Maybe I'm not worth it, maybe I'm just a piece of *******.
I am stupid, and I have come to believe it.
Maybe I really don't try hard enough, and I am not trying harder.
My sibling's can feed off me all they want, I don't care anymore.
I've taken my ear buds out, and I'm listening to the screaming of hate.
Yeah my arms are cut, and they will always be cut.
Yes I am not pretty, and that's the truth.
But I am me, and that's okay.

No. I will not let sadness creep in.
No. You cannot control my thoughts. But do you know what goes on inside? I think not.
Or if you do, then you must be cruel. Because I worshiped you.
I cared about you more then anyone, and how do you repay me?
By filling HER heart with joy, and THEIR hearts with friendship, but not mine, no.
Not me, with my fuzzy jacket and messy hair. My glasses, braces and no make up on.
You laugh and be cool but I know you changed. You used to laugh with me and not against me, but now I know.
The girls with make up plastered on their faces, and the boys with their styled hair and backwards caps are yours. But never can be mine. So I am never to be yours, and you will never touch my heart which is to people whom I love, divine.

He's so beautiful
and handsome
and perfect every way.
He shows the lust that bothers others,
but not me- it never will.
His darkness and his evil unveil magically,
and once I look into his eyes,
he'll easily control me.
But sadly there's no magic, no flying to a land.
A land that's filled with happiness and pixie dust and sand.
The sand will glow from moonlight and happiness alike,
But if I step into that land, I won't return, my love.
I must let go of whats holding me. My very own child.
How cruel, how wicked, and terrible if I ever had to lie.
To lie that I would rather stay here with you than him.
A lie that never bothered, but one that cannot stay.
So off you go, hold on to that shadow,
my happiness can only be here.
On this magical island of happiness,
my Neverland with Peter.