I walk the halls,
Watching her flowing hair,
Golden in the perfect lighting,
Her hips moving from side to side,
Like Newton's cradle,
Left,
Right,
Left,
Right.

I envy her perfectly highlighted face,
And her winged liner,
That's as sharp as her heels,
Clicking along the wooden boards,
Hypnotizing everyone and anyone,
Including me.

Me,
The girl that walks alone,
To and from class,
The girl that wears tattered jeans,
And stained shirts,
The girl that drops her books,
And gets bullied on countless occasions,
The girl that wishes that she was just like her,
Just like this girl that walks the halls.

Why am I not good enough?
And I'm not talking about others' opinions,
I'm talking about my own,
My self-image,
My self-worth,
My self-confidence,
Why am I not good enough?

Little do I know,
As I walk the halls,
That this girl,
This perfect image of a woman,
Doesn't want to be that way anymore,
While I would **** for that,
She would simply throw it away,
If it were that easy.

The popularity,
The attention,
The friends,
She'd be rid of it in a heartbeat,
If it were up to her.

But I still believe that I'm not good enough,
That I need a face of makeup,
Heels that are too tall to balance on,
An outfit to make me comfortable with my body,
Just to make me feel like I'm worth something,
Like I really am good enough.

So, I watch this girl,
And I envy her,
And she envies me,
As we walk the halls.

i still
do not know
the poem i've been trying to write
and maybe
that's because
i haven't been
writing one at all
or maybe it's because
the poem i've been trying to write
is not ready for paper
and maybe
i'm the paper
that's not ready for it

If could call myself an early death,
how'd I seize the day if I'm so stressed?
Knowing I'm blessed,
but also slightly depressed.

I'll confess it's hard
to see the best at your worst
While you question your worth.

Faces fail to display feelings,
high tensions over a room of low ceilings.
A wise bright smile,
with the loneliest man inside.
Who am I,
Mr Lonely Happy Wise guy.

Hi...✋

I dreamt of you that summer night
Windows open ever so slight
We were together in a field of flowers
Your windswept hair dangling carelessly from the sides of your floppy, straw, hat
The warmth of the sun as radiant as your boundless smile

You took my hand, and paraded me through a pallette of petals
My clumsy boots stumbling with each step
In my stupor, I reached and plucked a flower
It was destined to be yours
The coppery-orange petals a perfect compliment to the hue of your hair
Both of us blushing as your lips met my cheek

It was a perfect dream
A testament to the time we shared
Ended by a morning sky, and a nostalgic cup of coffee
Staring vacantly at the blooming flowers in my overgrown-garden

Woah, that guy's deep.
Do you think he might drown
down there, all by himself?
He might come up
for air soon, right?
Someone should probably go check
But that's a lot of pressure.
It's safer up here.