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Poetry has become my self harm,
I only write at my lows...
Instead of blood I see words,
Instead of a blade I have a keyboard...

I want to write about...
The wind dancing with the sea...
Or...
The way you smile and it lights up your innocent face...

I don't want poetry to be my self harm,
Because poetry is beautiful...
An art...
Not.
Just.
Blood.
And.
Scars.
Judge away... I'm trying to not care... No matter how much I do ...
 Dec 2016 Erika Soerensen
jg
Irony
 Dec 2016 Erika Soerensen
jg
The words falling from your mouth that afternoon
came like sharp knives toward me,
tearing me apart and shattering my heart and soul.
And I don't think no one will ever
have the power to glue me back together.
Except for you.
Ironic.
How is it that the person who hurts us the most
is the only one with the cure?
Why is It that we always want to be healed
by the person who caused the horrific,
unspeakable and tremendous pain?
 Dec 2016 Erika Soerensen
Sarah
Over the last year,
my thighs have started
  to touch.
and every time
I sit
or pass
a mirror or shop,
I'm surprised by who I
see

I wish I had spend more time
loving myself and
the thighs you
passed down
to me.
 Dec 2016 Erika Soerensen
Dahlya
She is summer,
Full of laughter and joy
Radiating love and light
Among everyone she sees,
Without a care in the world
She runs free
Adventuring recklessly
Leaving bruises and scraped knees
And losing pieces of herself
As the summer rain begins,
Like the tears she cries
Late at night.
The leaves start to fall
Along with her spirit
And her friends tell her
That her pain is beautiful
Capturing the changes
In pretty photographs,
She feels the air cooling
Sending chills down her spine
And drying up her heart
Like the barren ground
Beneath her feet.
As winter rolls around
She hides away
Fearing the slippery snow
The coats the driveway
And the ice
That has grown in her heart,
She stops talking
And they stop calling
Because her pain
Is no longer beautiful.
As her heart hardens
Into a lifeless seed
That will not sprout,
Spring slowly approaches
The returning warmth
Melting the snow
And revealing fresh soil,
A blank canvas
To paint with life
Turning the seed  
Into a beautiful flower.
And once again
She is summer.
 Dec 2016 Erika Soerensen
Sam
Hidden
 Dec 2016 Erika Soerensen
Sam
Sometimes it's just better to put a smile on your face,
keep your head held high,
And Just keep moving forward.

Only a few will notice,
The lack of a sparkle in your eye,
They will continue to help you,
*Just keep moving forward.
I stay hidden :)
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