You think I'm weird,
with the way I do my hair.
You think I'm strange,
as you see me change.

What do you see,
that makes you so uneasy.

The wrap around my chest,
or my short hair,
could it be my plaid boxers,
or is it the fact that I'm a girl?

When he said that thing
it only made my ears ring
tears ran down my face
I ran to my room, a calm place
As my face grew red
my feelings had fled
'cause if he couldn't accept me
I might as well be dead.

I wish I was the kind of person

That could write as beautifully

As the midnight sky

Or your eyes

Some days
I have so many ideas
I can write
and write

Till my pen runs out

Or my arm gets tired

Or I run out of paper

And start to write in books
I’ve read

Too many times

Then there are days when,

my mind is full

But there are no ideas.

No motivation

Just loud voices,

A mess of thoughts

Most of them aren’t even my own

(Maybe I shouldn’t say that

Someone might think I’m crazy)

Just because someone’s mind is

Thought ridden

Doesn’t mean they will turn it

Into art

I think if they did

Someone might get hurt

Writing

It’s dangerous

Not just to an author

But also to everyone else
around them

Get thee behind me, Doubt
There are dreams I belong to, don’t touch me yet again
Your vice has me in this schizophrenic turmoil
Don’t play with me, please, I cant surrender
The serpent coil of your dark moves tighten
Excruciating loss of naïve hopes
Scattered like phantoms on a lifeless night
The fever of a beginning, already parched
I stand frozen tonight
Fingertips hush an unspoken lie
Scared, my arms around my future, I hug
Shivering from memories of a past gone wrong
I look his way,
Would she find her way around my madness?
Would she stay?...

A feeling I never knew
That I drew in from you
Would be that I am feeling followed

Your darkness reaches deep
And I cannot lie and sleep
Without fear from the earth of being swallowed

And at first believed to feel
In your heart love was real
A wound you cut to deep has made me feel hollowed

I never knew I would get thru
The long cold dark nights from you
They would be the deepest part of this nightmare that followed

Like the look in your eyes
When caught by your surprise
Looking at a bottle of poison you just swallowed


I will never forget the look
From my eyes you took
From far behind the dark pit of your soul all cut out and hollowed

I have adapted another persona to escape the real world...
when all around me shadows cover every tree,
and spotting the crescent moon, I don't feel bored
if thoughts for a poem pop up, then it's time to write away!



Have I become a moonshiner living through dark?
Is this strange person me? Up to now, I'm still a bit jittery having
to step outside and inhale a breath of fresh air.....
I may hear wild wolves howling, owls cooing and see bats flying
from the low shrubs of the deserted park,
and being too scared I would retrieve to my lair!


Family and acquaintances have noticed the changes in me,
I seem too distracted and paying no attention to them is silly;
all I think of is of words spoken by people as they walk too fast...
and watching their gestures, they show faces serene or mad!


How long can I act out the character I have created for myself?
Am I an actor or a real person living with a sense of reality?
Is this strange person me... missing out on life and not laugh?
Condemn literature for my insanity? But would I live without fantasy?

It's late... talk to me.