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Isabel Jul 2014
I promise you I don't want to **** myself
This isn't a letter saying goodbye
Not a poem blaming you for not seeing this coming
But sometimes
When I'm all alone
I sit in the bath just a little bit longer,
hoping and hoping I drift off to sleep
Or smoke three cigarettes
one after the other after the other
and hope my lungs get so filled with tar that I
stop breathing
Or stand dangerously close to the edge of a building
and close my eyes hoping the wind might *******
just hard enough to fall

It's easy to imagine
I know what everyone would say
How some people would cry
And some would secretly be glad
Some would feel guilt
Others sorrow
And in about a week it wouldn't matter

But I want to matter
Whether it be to just my mom
Or the man I helped cross the street
I want to matter

And so I tuck those thoughts deeper in the closet
And I step away from sharp objects and steep edges
And I sit and write poetry
Poetry will be the death of us all
I wrote this months and months ago and just found it, it's more of a journal entry than anything
Isabel Dec 2013
I am terrified
Of the demons camped out in my mind
I did not welcome them
None of us do
But out of a ****** up gene pool and a thunderstorm of circumstance they emerge
Ugly horrible creatures
Now you're saying I'm crazy
I sure as **** am
We're all ******* crazy
We're mad
We're Ginsberg's Roman candles shooting violently across the sky
That's not fair
(Though life hardly is)
Perhaps it's not just us
Perhaps it's these demons
Demons so keen on gardening and planting seeds in our heads
Seeds of emotion
Of self-doubt
of love
of laziness and disappointment
Seeds that sprout and consume
Winding and twisting
allowing such little light
Of course we have the power
We have the shears
We can cut the vines
But do we have the strength?
Do I?
Isabel Oct 2013
Be impeccable with your word.

I am called too honest
too confident
too bold
I am told the way I'm thinking
the way I'm reacting
I am told they're all wrong

But I mean the words I say,
I may be honest
but I'm real
I may be confident
but I'm me
Hiding my deepest
and diseases
with my loud voice

2. Don't take anything too personally.

3. Don't make assumptions.

4. Always do your best.
This is unfinished. I don't know how to write something beautiful when I feel so horrible.
Isabel Oct 2013
I **** men who don't like me
in hopes that they will.
I give them small kisses
and smile when I stare.

I know all the moves.
How to bite my lip
Show slight cleavage
Glance at them occasionally
Don't break eye contact
Touch my thigh
Widen my eyes

then I open my mouth

And they think:
Man, she's ******* crazy

Just crazy enough to ****
Too crazy to stay
So they run
And the cycle continues

Someday someone won't be afraid of
my loud, opinionated mouth
and my wide hips
Isabel Sep 2013
I met a man
ragged, older, *****
in Union Square Park
on a chilly
Tuesday morning.
He asked me to marry
I said
he sat
he spoke
I listened
The city will strip you.
he said
It will make you the most naked version of yourself.
And you can either clothe yourself in substance
or clothe yourself in art.
Both will leave you broke.
Both will open your mind.
But only one will make you happy,
give you purpose.
You're right
And don't be ****** about it.
You're too beautiful to be ******.
Appreciate everything.
I will.
Isabel Jun 2013
I am a contradiction
I am an eighties perm in 2013
I am not thinking
I am not ebbing
I am not flowing
But I am happy
I am seaweed that fails to move with the current
I am the loneliest I have ever felt
I am the most sure of things I have ever been
My mind is an ocean
My heart is a plane
My fingertips hold the pulse of earth's heartbeat
I spin intricate webs of thoughts through the overcrowded bookshelves in my mind
But that's okay
Because when you're lying in bed at 3:18 in the morning
you begin to realize that you don't need to
ebb or flow
Your **** doesn't need to be formed into a
tight and perfect sphere
You can just be
And whether being is
having the puzzle complete or
the pieces scattered across 7 different continents
in the end
it's all just pieces
Incoherent shapes
Isabel Apr 2013
My god is poetry
My god is words and oceans and rising suns
My god is abandoned buildings and meaningful graffiti
My god doesn't pressure or judge
My god doesn't have rules or contracts
My god lets my life die with me
My god is yoga and fresh tea and new music and modern art
My god doesn't condemn
My god isn't a man who chooses what happens
He doesn't choose who dies or if you deserve good fortune
My god is happiness
My god is creativity
My god is intelligence
My god is love
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