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Anne Nov 2014
Sometimes
Everything hits you
at once--
Like a train car
Full blast
No breaks
All at once you're sad
You're sick
You're alone
You're a mess
And you reach out
For help,
Only to find that when
They try to help you
They try to rob you
Of your pain
And sometimes
You just aren't done with
it just yet---
Anne Nov 2014
Home is a funny word
Home is something I thought I never had
In middle school
In high school
I was tossed about
Adrift
My home was a suitcase
My parent's houses, hotels
I didn't live in one place enough
To form the close bonds
In order to have the kinds of relationships
That I needed to have.
I became self-destructive
By the time I got to college,
I wouldn't know a friend from an enemy
If they punched me in the chest
Threw me against a wall
Or held me down and hurt me
But then I found that I'd had friends all along
People who wanted me to be safe and happy
That I had been too destructive to notice
And as soon as I realized that,
New friends appeared
I cleansed my life of my enemies
and I began to find myself
In the sea of hate
So when I left my mother's house in September
I didn't think I would feel the loss
I had left the house before
But I didn't realize the difference it would make
To know I'd never come back.
And these city lights
Are beautiful
But they are not my home
My home is where my friends are
My home is somewhere between us and me
So if I get forgetful, text too little or if I text too much.
Know that I love you
And I'm just a little out of touch
With how friendships are supposed to be
And that I miss my home now more than anything
And I miss my family too
And though I may have been broken
I'm fixed now, good as new
And I hope you love me too.
I wrote this poem during a brief emotional low about my relationship with my best friend and how she is always there for me and hopefully, vice versa.  =')
Anne Nov 2014
Where do you feel most at peace?

It’s a simple enough question,
But reality carried into another dimension
Trickling waterfalls and rivers down to the ground.

I used to think I loved the city
Was enamored
Enthralled
Engorged with my love of
Skyscrapers
Buildings so tall that I couldn’t see
The sun.

But as I’ve grown older
And finally emigrated to one of
My beloved urban centers
I soon discovered
My truth was
Slightly off center

Now I could tell you stories about buildings and culture
And man made designs so beautiful
It could break
Your heart

But the thing
That always
Caught me
In reality
Were the people
The animals
The trees
The patch of grass
Struggling
To survive.

So in the city I am
The city so big and bustling that I can’t even
Hear myself think
And I ask myself
Was the woods really that bad?

Because in the forest I’m alone,
But I’m alone here in the city
What’s worse?
Loneliness in actuality
Or loneliness in spirit

I HAVE A QUESTION

What do you look for when you travel?
Do you seek out
Shopping
Food
Parks
Buildings
Landmarks
History
A lover
Do you skip over the people
And starving children
Looking at you
With those big, big eyes?

What are we missing today?
What am I missing  in
This concrete building
Staring at a wall
Because my window
Doesn’t have a skyline
The movies LIE

Now I can tell you stories
About city blocks
A lovers arms
And laughing at bars with friends
But nothing brings me back to center
Like the forest.

My favorite parts of when I traveled
Was when I found the woods
Go to Copenhagen, go to Paris and look.
You can find them,
They’re still there where
We left them
Just like
My soul.
This kinda just spilled out of me at the end of really long and hard day.  DEFINITELY needs editing, but I often like to post word ***** so here it goes.  I also definitely think this is and "out loud" sort of thing.
Anne Sep 2014
The lilt of imagination
Turns quickly sour
Untoward, yet
Benign
My lapse into
Unconsciousness
Beckons the question...
A tapestry of truth
Against my wall of lies
But, if I breakdown
What will be left
But rubble?
Been having some repetitive bad dreams lately.  Even though I still haven't talked to anyone about them, I'm hoping writing this, in its own small way will help
Anne Jul 2014
I hate the summer air
The way it sticks to every hair
The sudden need
To shave my legs
Scrape myself ******
Surely instead
The air itself chokes
Me like water
Swimming in mosquitoes
Spiders and moths
When will this horror of summer
Ever stop?

I miss winter
It's bitter chill
The cold piercing me
Like no lover ever will
My breath condensing
In mid-air
The snowflakes falling
White winter wonderland
I understand the opinion I hold is of the few not the many.  Sorry all you summer lovers, I just can't take the heat.
Anne Jun 2014
You stormed out
Untold stress
And I'm the cause
Please dear mother
Don't you see
What your anger
Does to me
I can't change the way
my body
Chooses to consume itself
If I could
You know I would
So please don't blame yourself
For my pain
Genetics aren't your fault
Troublesome though it may seem
I'm sure the future
Will still have plans for me
So chin up, mother
Don't cry for me
I don't want another sad memory
I miss your laughter
I miss your smile
Don't let your depression
Take you away
From me
This is an emotional disaster that needs a bit of clarification and re-editing.  I have an auto-immune disease.  My mother suffers from depression.  The combination is emotionally violent at times.
Anne Jun 2014
The broken glass
A shattered past
An old diary
Filled to the brim
My smile fades
At the turn of each page
What a fool
I was
What a fool
I am
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