tick tock tick tock


Time goes flying by

What is this emotion?

Do I want to stop it?

Do I want to let it go?

Mixed emotions fill my empty brain.


tick tock tick tock


17
16
15
14
13
12

12? Already? Am I relieved? Or am I sad?

Have I gone crazy? Why does the clock spin so fast?

My eyes swirl against the misty air
They dart around as if wishing they could stop time, which is impossible.

"Help"

"Save me"

I don't seems to understand.

To my friends

I laugh a lot

I always smile

And grin

And grin some more.

I always joke around

And laugh at everything I see

I act

Happy.

Filled with joy

And all that

was to hide my sorrows. And to make them disappear.

It was a habit I couldn't stop.

When ever I said, "I'm going to act serious today."
When something bad happened to me I said, "I'll tell my friends. I'll cry." "I'll show them my inner."

But I always end up smiling and laughing. I just can't help but doing that. Not being serious.

Even when I tell a sad story or explain depression, I smile.


And maybe that was wrong.

Maybe I should've showed them my inner.

Maybe then my friends wouldn't know me as just a silly girl who laughs everyday.

Because friends,

I have what's called feelings too.

I have what's called dark past.

I have experienced death with family.

6 of them.

You might have never known.

The dark side of your friend.

That friend who giggled and laughed and smiled and leaned on you and always seemed happy.

I know what misery is!

I too have kept secrets from you all!

I......

I have feelings, okay?

Scrolling through poetries

Finding myself in "messages"

"You seem so happy. How are you so happy all the time? Why are you so happy though?"

Someone had said to me.

Well, to be honest I don't really know how I am happy. I'm not even sure if I am.

I don't know why I always grin like a fool in front of my friends.

How I'm so positive. How I laugh and smile at everything.

Because....... I guess.......


It feels good.

To laugh rather than cry

To smile rather than frown.

To be happy when you know something isn't.

It feels comfortable.

Just smile at everything!

Be happy.

It feels like cuddling with blankets on a freezing winter. Cookies beside you.... warmth filling your body....

Like heaven..


I just smile.



Can you do me a favor....


And just smile.....

Smile....



Like nothing matters..... smile.....





Let's be happy, guys. : )

I hate this. I hate everything.

I hate that ideas are leaking out of my brain, I hate that I'm becoming more dumber each second. Is that even a word?

I hate that annoying mouth of mine. I hate it when I spit out a word and I immediately regret it.

I hate it when my emotions take over, and make me drunk of them. I hate it when anger and sadness fight to take over my brain.

I hate it when I can't express my feelings. I hate that I can't explain. I hate that I regret.

I hate randomness. I hate that that site won't let me write stories because my email is wrong or something. I hate that my friend is salty.

I hate that my life isn't going the way I want it to. I hate that no one cares for me. I hate that they lie.

But then again, what can I do? This is life,

And I must learn to love **it.

"Wanna be my girlfriend?"

Oh.

Ohhhhh

Oh oh oh oh oh oh


**Yes.

I hate myself.
I hate you.

I hate you as much as I hate myself.

**I hate myself for still loving you.

She talks a lot, if not all the time.
She laughs to the point of annoyance,
but I don't entirely mind.

My throat aches from constant laughing
and release of my joy
but that's who she is.

She thinks of herself as an "asexual,"
but life wouldn't be the same without her.
She still has a place in my heart.

You have so much wisdom and potential,
you're fun to be around,
and we surely have a bond.

I tell you, "I love you,"
I demand, "Can I get a hug?"
You growl and push me off, but,

I remembered.

You love me.

And I am your friend.

Hello!
Who ever is reading this- I have something very important to say!

You're amazing. I may not know you, but you're cool.

You're beautiful.

You're smart.

You're awesome.

You're kind.

Do you know why I'm saying this to you, even though I don't know you?

Because I know that everyone(including you) is a fantastic person.

You may not be one at this right moment, but you are.

I love you.

4 days!!!!!

Are you freaking kidding me???

What kind of weekend is that long?? Why no school on Friday and Monday???

It's hard staying alive 1 second without her- and now I have to wait *4 days??!?

Are you freaking kidding me?!??!?!

I miss her already!!!

But don't worry


1 second with her is like 10 minutes with her


She'll reward me for staying alive for 4 days



Because she likes me now



**Although I'm not sure of it

They tease me I like you
They whistle "You like her!"
And I respond, "No! I hate her!"

But I actually love you.

I love you so much I wonder if this is wrong.
I want to tell you I love you but I don't feel worthy.

I don't feel worthy.
A person like me.  
Loving a person like you.

I have no power, wisdom, beauty.
You probably hate me.

You know, actually, most of my poems are about you. See?
I'm now confused.


I don't feel worthy to like you.

If I told you I did, you would be surprised. And our distances would get more further away.



I can spill it all out here. No one will know!




















**I love you. And I've always wished you'd love me back. But we're not a good pair.

She entered the house of Joy
Fixed herself with broken toy

Went to find herself
Lying on a dusty shelf

Her other soul was beating
This claimed that two souls were now together
Found their partner
Relieved, her heart light as a feather

Her reflected soul looked sinned
***** and alone

It was shaped like a white doll
Wearing a dark blue suit
Twitching, responding, to a call

One thing she did not get,
was that it was wearing a pale, gray mask

Three shapes. Dot, dot, line
Perhaps forming a disturbing look of smile
Grinning happily

"What lies beneath the layer of lie?" she asks
Reaches her hand to uncover
The mask and the secret hidden

Tap. The mask falls with a sudden twitch
Revealing the wound and agony it had been hiding for centuries, waiting for it to be revealed.
But only for itself.

Tears dribble from the blank of it's eye
And crimson gore floods from the ragged mouth scattered with honey

It positions it's arm leaning toward her
Clamps over her mouth and whispers:
"Shhhhh-" with a painful grin. A real one.

Rumors and tales clinging and repeating
Of the soul who was trapped in good and honey







But inside, who was actually a **beast.

Mom!
Mother!
Mommy!

Mom!

The word feel sweet in my mouth.

Mom! Mom! Mom!

There's no particular reason to say it,
I just do.

The word comforts me.
Relaxes me.
Makes me feel like wrapped in warm blankets on a cold winter.

Mom! Mom! Mom!


Why don't you say it? Just once. Please.



Mom!

The moon whispered to me
"Where is your past"
"Where are you"
I answered*
"Hidden beneath my foolishness"

My friend.
She's wonderful!
A good artist, a funny jester, a happy producer, a perfect friend!
She helps me on my writtings
She compliments my drawings
She smiles at me
She keeps my days going bright.
But..
She tells me I'm stupid
She hates my hugs(still don't get why)
She says I'm annoying
She saids I'm weird.
Haha.
Nicole, that's what I like about you, my friend!

Yesterday:
Curious.
Awkward.
Happy, but confused.
Jealous.
Cried in class.

Today:
Happy.
Glad.
Smiled often.
Hugs.
Laughter.

Back and forth. The same thing repeats.
So confusing.
Happiness,
depression.
Happiness,
depression.
Happines­s,
depression.

This is so hard. I can't figure out the real point.


**Do I love her or not?

I have to work

on my science project.

But is not!

Typing a poem!

Haha!

She.
Her.
Whatever.
That girl.

Saw her.
Describe her?
"Adorable,"
"I want to tease her."

Long black hair.
Dances.
Thick glasses.
Still pretty if she wears them or not.

Talks.
Fast.
I wonder how she talks so fast like that.

Her face.
Round.
Cute.
Love her lips. How the lower lip sticks out.

Maybe I can tell her this. Maybe she will read this.
And maybe...
Just maybe...

She'll accept me.

Maybe.

My confession.

Haha.

You are going somewhere.
Moving somewhere.
Somewhere where I cannot go.

So I know I'll have to stop this nonsense.

So I know I'll have to stop loving you.

Because if I keep on loving you,
it's going to be me who's going to suffer the pain.

If I love you too much I'll miss you too much.

So I know I'll have to stop this nonsense.

But you know

It's really hard to stop

Loving you.

I am a young girl

Who just wants attention.

Is that bad?

All I want is a person- I don't care who

A person that will wait for me

That will care for me

That will wait for my responses to them

Will talk to me

Will be glad for me

Will actually notice me

I don't care if it's one of you

Why wouldn't someone, anyone random

Will care for me like I did to them?

Am I like a piece of lint that stays in their life for a second and pasts by?

I want to be important.

Even my talents I use to prove myself

Even my talents are failing me.

What do I do now?....

Somebody pleas help me.... SOS...

Please.. anybody.... read this.....

Help me....

Give me a warm hug...

Give me warm words.....

Give me hope and love like I did to others.....

I was very confused today.

You hung your arms around me, making an excuse, "I'm too lazy to hold my arm."
You leaned your head against my shoulder, saying, "My neck hurts."
You covered me with your arms while I put my head down.
You ate the pizza I ate out of.
You put your face close up to mine to see "if I was gay."
You called my name.
You seemed to be kinder now.
You're acting cute than usual.
You're acting different.
To me.

And I don't know if it's real. Is it for fun? Or does she at least kind of like me? Or is it just because she wants to tease me, knowing that I like her?

It's so complicated and painful to think about. What if this was all a lie?

So I've decided.


**Enjoy while I can.

Laying on the sofa
Reading webtoons.

Chewing on jelly beans
Dribbling my legs

Eyelids closing
Sighs escaping.

Thumbs drifting around
Laziness consuming me.

Bored. I knew this sleepover would be boring. But I just didn't want to be stuck in my house.

Listening to snorts
Of the little Chihuahua.

My friend sprawling on the bed
Me rustling on the sofa.

What an weird way to start of a morning.

Haha.

2017.

A new year.

A new hope.

A new chance for you

NEW.

HELLLOOO!!
Im a crazy person!
I love you guys!
Im younger than you think!
Im weird!
Im stupid(totally)!
I hear you mumbling "What is this poem?..."
Im happyhappyhappy!
Im excited!
Im... well.... trying to make you laugh with this crazy poem!
Be happy straight down your heart!
Be crazy and weird and smart!

The time has come now.
First haiku ever, thats weird.
Boring. So random.

To all the artist in the world- good and bad.

What do you draw? Anime? Manga? Cartoon? Animation? Animals? Humans?

This is a letter to those of you who consider yourself as a terrible artist.
Not the ones who know computer designing with drawing tablets and copy paste art. Not the ones who are actually good.

To the ones who have been depressed by their art. The ones who thinks their art is terrifying.
The ones who have no hope for their art.

Listen up.

Those days.... when you peeked across the table to your friend's drawings and mumbled, "That's really good. I wish I could draw like that too." And depressed for you thought you were the worst drawer within your friends. When you moaned, "Will I ever draw like that? Could I possibly?" And while staring into the arts of others. Depressing and filled with jealousy, feeling like your art is getting worser and worser.


SHUT UP!

Those were lies of yourself.
Those thoughts that pulled you deeper into misery.
Those were all FAKE.

You think others are better than you.

But to be honest. (This is the important part, read carefully)

There is no good or bad in art. Better than or worse than.

There are no good and bad, but there is different styles and types of art.

"Good." "Bad." They were the words that tricked you. They were illusions.

There is only varieties of drawings in art.

Everybody is different. So is their art.

When people see the other styles of art, they mistake is as "Good."

You think that person's art is "better" than yours.

No.

It's just- different from yours.

So don't say your drawings are "bad." Don't.

Everyone's art is special. It might seem "bad" to others, but it's actually wonderful.

Because it's yours.

Yours only.

The one and only you.



Your style of art.

My fingers type the same topic over and over.

Because it hurts.

It hurts that I can't tell.
It hurts that I am weak and foolish.
It hurts that no one cares.

It hurts that I know it's wrong.
It hurts that I think it will go away
It hurts that what I'm doing I'm wrong.

But I keep on doing it.

I know that the more I love the more pain I will gain.
At the end, it will be me with sorrow.

I'm scared that she won't miss me.
I'm scared that she dislikes me.
I am foolish.

I am weak.

I am tired.

Of this.

Repeating the same trama.

Over and over.

I want to end this.

I an too tired.

I know I'm not allowed to.

I know I'm not allowed to love you.
But I did.

I know wasn't suppose to love you.
But I did.

I know it was against rules.
But I did.

But I love you so much
My heart aches on every second I'm not with you.

I love you. I know I love you. I want to hug you, pat your hair, say "I love you" and confess my feelings.
But I know I'm not allowed to love you.

These feeling clod up my heart. My heart hurts. When I see you I just can't seem to see you directly in the eyes. Because I'm scared that all love you too much, too much, but I'm not allowed to. And when I know I'm not allowed to.

But I still love you.

The swift of your hair, the scent of your body, the touch of your hands.

Every time you touch me, I know it's a touch, but I can't help but dreaming of your pink lips.

How tragic. A person. Who is not allowed to love another person. Loved that person.

I can't let go of my love for you.
They say to think of you as a normal friend. But I can't help but grin at you and allow my heart to beat when I see you.

I must confess it one day. One day.

I know you're leaving me. So I'll say it on that day. That day you're leaving.

"I love you."

I know this is foolish

I know this is stupid

I know this is dumb.

But I feel lonely.

Some are lost.

I feel rejected.

So please,

*play with me.

Those

Those nimble fingers of mine

keep typing

batting against the keyboard of my old computer.

With the slurping sounds of my

lips swallowing and licking

delicious noodles my mother

made.

Waiting for the yellow to appear on that lightning sign

Which means one person has noticed me. Happy.


Switching between the tabs. I see

My science project. I hate it.

Mom behind me.

I just finished my bowl of noodles.


My daily life.


What's yours

I was a fighter when I was little.

I got angry easily
and couldn't hold my anger.
It was a big deal. I would punch and kick and pinch.

My mom would get mad at me. Spank me. Telling me to control myself.

"Control your anger,"

Yeah mom well guess what?
Maybe adults aren't really that perfect. Maybe sometimes they're wrong.

Because, now? I hold my anger too much.

I am too kind.

I feel emotionless




Now I don't even know what being mad feels like.

I got hit with a metal broom stick. Twice.

Getting hit for doing something wrong was a common thing in my family. Probably common in other houses, too.

But that metal stick,
****
I tell you

Hurt like fire.

The first time, I screamed at him. I called him a "gangster". Because that's what he looked like. Beating the **** out of me and my brother with a metal stick.

That night my eyes wouldn't stop tearing up. The fact that I couldn't die was so depressing. I wanted to dissappear from this world so bad, but I knew I wasn't supposed to.

That week my right shoulder turned green.

The next week I got hit again. It hurt more. I remember trying to stop him when he brought out the stick.
"Dad please don't do this. I admit that I was acting terrible, but this isn't right."
I was trying to be confident, but at the same time I was pleading him to stop. Because I knew how much it hurt.

But

The next few minutes I was crouched against a wooden door, screaming "STOP! I'M SORRY! IT'S ALL MY FAULT!!"

(Side thought; maybe this is why I have a habit of blaming everything on me when there's a problem.)

My left arm became swollen. My brother and I were forced in the backyard for 10 minutes. It was raining. And it was cold.

So pathetic. Shivering and sobbing. Texting my friend with shaking fingers.
"help"
"help"
"help"

I knew I should've reached for help. I even got a contact for my church Pastor. Yet I hesitated and hesitated and wondered if I was being overdramatic. Time passed, then the chance that I was given was blown away.

They've brainwashed me so bad.
"It's all my fault. I deserved to be hit. I can't do anything. There's people who go through worse than this. This isn't abuse."

This

I don't know anymore
I don't know anymore

It's so funny how 2 days after that disaster we were laughing and playing sports in our backyard. Weird family. We always act like nothing happened.

Last night, I had a dream that my dad was beating my back with a baseball bat.

Is this okay? Is this right? Am I being traumatized?

My heart thumps as I'm writing this. I still have a tiny green mark on my right arm, and my left arm is still bruised.

I keep thinking that there are people out there who go through worse situations. They get abused for no reasons.
And my brain keeps grabbing my neck
squeezing it
choking it
slapping my face in the middle of the night
screaming

"If you didn't act immature, you wouldn't have been hit! YOU should act up- YOU DESERVE IT!"

ah

And that's the reason why I can't finished my homework right now.

Wanna be friends?

I am just one voice

of the million.

One. One me.

Does that make me special? Yes. Of course it does.

But one. Out of the million. So..... common... so...plain...

I want to light up

But I am to young and weak and foolish

And no one seems to care about my words



So
             My
                       Words
                                        Sink
                                                     Into
                                                                The chasm
                                                

                                                 I feel unrecognized

Im gonna say it today

Im gonna tell her tonight

Im gonna confess it right now

Now

And hoping this poem reaches her

"I love you. For real."

16 followers

Not much

Not much at all!

Only 16

but that number is really special for me

It shows I'm special

16

16 followers

Can you believe that?

I thought it was a site for goodness

I thought it was a site for amazing poems and joy

But as usual, more evil than good,

More death than joy

Depression
Depression
Depression.


Can we write more good please?

"Love."
It tastes sweet in my mouth.
"Hate."
It tastes slimy. Waxy. Slithering.
Like gum. You can't seem to have just one word stuck in your mouth.
So... you spit it out.
"Hate." Someone lets you try it. It doesn't taste good.
So... you spit it out.
"Stupid." Tastes like bile- almost vinegar. Awful.
So... you spit it out.
But you really spit it out not because it tastes bad. But because it feels good.
Like gum. And you get tired of chewing it, so you spit it. And your mouth feels fresh. Clean.
But not words.
You spit it out to hurt someone.
You spit it to describe someone. Not in a good way.
You spit it out to enjoy.
Words.... let's be careful with them...

A smile may be

Simple.

Not much.

Just everyday thing

Like brushing your teeth.

I mean, brushing your teeth isn't amazing- or- mentioned often-

Smile.

"An action someone does when is pleased or glad."

Lips stretch. Breath seeps through your teeth. Whites of your teeth beam. Your eyes brighten. Some dimples may form. And your heart relaxes.

It sometimes may be fake

To cover a horrible incident

Or to lie

But you can know it's a real smile.

Stare into their eyes.

You'll see that beautiful spark of joy.

What's the most beautiful thing on earth?

Mona Lisa? A speck of flower? Your beloved ones? The autumn sky? Rare diamond? Money?

No.....

It's your smile.....

And I love it....

My heart rolls towards you
as if it was born with a fate to.
It stumbles through grief and pain- just to reach for you.

"Why?" I ask it. Puzzled by it's acts. "Why suffocate you're own body, for her?"
It replies with a weak smile, "I was born with a fate to."
"I was born with a fate to roll to her. Like how birds stick to trees and clouds stick to the sky. I was meant to stick to her. I was meant only for her."

Then my heart goes back on it's journey. Crawling and mourning for you. Only for you.

It pulls me over, like a friend helping a date. It does everything it takes to get my mind to you. And yours to mine.

Why you?
Because..

I was meant to be rolled to you.....

only....


"For every person there is a pair."

I got my poem on the front page.

Can't believe my eyes.

Haha.

I love time
How it just ticks

Tick tock tick tock

Sometimes it seems so fast
And sometimes it seems too slow

But it goes the same speed ever day

Tick tock tick tock

I love time

It seems invincible

It seems everlasting

It is

Time

I love to scroll down and like everything I see.

I don't have to read it

I just know it's good