the night is you,
you are the night

dark as thy tress,
deep as your eyes,

as the sea roars over
a lost bird's frantic cries,

the night is you
you are the night

If I could wake up tomorrow
And be someone new
I’d hope to be someone
That didn’t care about you

A person who wakes up
And smiles at the sun
Not a recluse
That hides from fun

Someone who looks in the mirror
And values themself
Not insecure
Loathing herself

I wish to be someone
Free as a bird
Not someone who cares
What others have heard

But when I wake up
I will still be me
Hoping and wishing
One day I’ll be free

Poetry
to me
is taking
my pain
and making
it sing.

It shows happiness
It hides sadness
It is sarcastic in it’s best
It is melancholy at other times
A smile can be everything
Or nothing all at once
A smile tells you a lot of things
About the person
And the life their living.

She squints her stubbornly sapphire eyes
            so she doesn't have to see
                        how sharp the edges of the world
                                    really are
She blasts music through earbuds
                        into her sensitive ears
                        even though it kills and burns
            so she doesn't have to hear
                        the truth about people
                                     or life
                                     or herself
She cuts scars in her soft skin
            that bleed the blaring music
            she forced into her head
                        so when they dry into scabs
            she won't have to feel
                        what dreams are really made of

Her eyes
            her ears
                        her skin
were a gift to her so that she might
see
            hear
                        feel
but the cruel, ugly world
is too much for her
            Why me?
                        she whispers
                        through hopeless tears and clenched teeth
            Why am I Chosen to see
                        the world
                        through the lens of raw reality?
She begs for
blindness
            deafness
                        no feeling
like the rest of them
It is too much for her
to be
truly

Aware

Creative writing
Speaking my thoughts
Is my drug to mask the pain
I hide on the inside
From everyone around me

It’s the way I am able to speak without facing my emotions
Hiding behind the pen and paper
Expressing my emotions
Whether happiness or sadness
Being myself
Not hiding behind the facade and shell of my body

My drug is writing
It makes me feel like I’m floating throughout the majestic
White fluffy clouds of my imagination

Round and round this racing
Hound keeps running
Win or lose, there's good news coming.
Kind hearts play a part and soon
He will start a life worth living.
Now freedom is near, no more fear
His deliverance is clear to see.
Far away from that ruthless sport
Where many support it's industry.
He was born to run, not to race
Running for fun, not for bait.
He will live with those who really care
A lovely abode in which to share.
No sight of race tracks anywhere
Just fields where he is free to roam
He will live his life without a care
Free and safe in a place called home.