I am nearly an illusion of life. I exist in this life, but at the same time, I don't. I am stuck in this pathetic place you humans call earth. I pity you with the rest of the people that are living, for life is another illusion within itself, and all of you are headed for your own doom. With all of these wars, destruction, and jealousy, you you are going to be the cause of your deaths, and you are simply making that end point closer and closer to you all. And when you think it's the end, it isn't, and trust me, all of you are going to be taken away. There will be no stone nor building or a sign of life remaining in this 'earth' of yours. Our whole life is a lie, and the sooner you all accept, and know this, the better of a chance we have of changing things. I just leave you all with this, life is nearly an illusion, and soon enough, life is going to catch up with you, and swallow you whole.

I like this,
Or
Maybe I love it,
"I am bent,not Broken!"
A token of my day
I call it.

Can I write my eulogy?
Tell the people what they think of me.
Can I write my eulogy?
Speak the words they said of me.
Can I write my eulogy?
Stand as the tears stream down your face
and watch as you embrace.
Can I write my eulogy
For you to read. Read it word for word.
Don't tell a lie. Don't say you loved me
and you never got a chance to say goodbye.
I'll write my eulogy. The truth will it speak.
I'll write my eulogy and everyone will
speak of the REAL me.

I knew you would forget, just as soon as the sun would rise,
But your words, cliché and hollow, came as no surprise.
I asked but one small favor, at both break and close of day,
Just to hear you say hello, but now, hope's bled away.

****.****.****.
what do you do when your water
has dried up?
What do you do when it isn't enough?
Don't I have other things than us?
Because I have been working.
Haven't I?
I have been dreaming...
haven't I?
Maybe I'm just not thinking
or am I?
There's a world in your eyes.
But what lies
within
mine?
I don't see time.
You feel sublime.
And frankly,
I am tired of my own rhymes.
I pray to the Divine.
And there's something I am doing,
or not doing,
right.
AND IT IS SOMETHING
I am scared
**I CANNOT FIND.

Do any of y'all really know me?
Can you see who I am from my poetry?
If your answer is yes, you're wrong
Even I don't know where I belong
When people ask who I am
I say I'm 26, a mother, a poet,
I basically just read my bio
But you've all read that too
Does that mean you really know?
A friend told me lately
To stop being so humble about my poetry
I don't like to come off sounding cocky
He says I'm **** good at what I do
But not every poem is about you
Not every word is always true
Sometimes, they're just words written in ink
To give you an idea, to really make you think....  
But my poetry doesn't define me
Doesn't show you who I am inside
Sure, you've read about my heartaches
And all the nights I've cried
But nothing I write,
Can show you the inner workings of my mind
So, please don't think you really know me
Based solely on all my posted poetry
Because, to be honest, I'm not even sure who I am
And I know me, better than all of you
But please continue to read and comment
Because I'd love to know the truth
About what you all really think of me
Honestly, y'all have really helped me through