I'm happy for you,
Since you're happier now.
I hope she'll make you happy every day.
You deserve that.
your name is
or in my heart
i think about
i'll cry a little more,
hurt a little stronger
love a little softer
because you no longer
make me feel sober
i'm drunk on the
memory of you
if only i could chase you with pizza but shots don't work like that
Sometimes I wish I was born as a boy
my late-night strolls wouldn't be seen as coy.
Sometimes I wish I was born as a boy
at least I wouldn't be reduced to a mere toy.
Sometimes I wish wasn't born as a female
my life story would have been a tellable tale.
Sometimes I wish I wasn't born as a female
my journey wouldn't have been filled with storms and hail.
Sometimes I wish I wasn't born at all
coz there nothing I hate more than being a life-size doll.
" Cut yourself"
Just a cut
Just a scratch
"What's that mark?"
"It was the cat."
Just an excuse
Just a lie
"What's with all the bracelets?"
" Just fashion, why?"
Just a tear
Just a scream
" Why were you crying?"
"Just a bad dream."
But it's not just a cut, or a tear, or a lie
It's 'just one more' until you die
this poem is about me
Let's delve deep into the human psyche
Really get a feel for it
Because maybe somewhere in that vast unexplored frontier we'll find an answer
Because maybe I'm messed up and I have scars because of an unconscious retribution
Maybe my dad's alcoholism was a gift of unholy origins
Maybe my mom will stop crying at night
Protect the kids
They can't hear the pain if they're asleep
Somewhere in our cosmos there has to be an answer
Of why when Jack met Jill they didn't get a happy ever after
I'm still waiting for test results of the taboo
And I hear people say it's my fault
Then it's not my fault
Then it's okay
Then it's not that bad anyway
I hate it when you wear the skimpiest clothes you can find
For body positivity
Part of loving yourself
Is respecting yourself
Let's cycle back around
I'm talking my perspective
I'm just writing this poem so I can forget about what happened
So I'm sorry it meanders
Because sometimes wanderers are lost
And I don't think I'm ever gonna be found
It was a good thought, Dear Evan Hansen
But I can't even find windows to look through
I lost my shot
Middle of the night
And all I can do is hate
They all think I've got a chance
It's nice people believe in me
I just wish they could also see me
I erased a few lines in here
Just in case you're reading
I don't think you are
But you were my best friend for years
I know I wasn't yours
I don't want everyone to know the darkness that creeps inside of me sometimes
It scares me
Let's take a rocket ship to understanding and relearn tolerance
Love ya hon.
I know you don't love me.
I lost myself the other day and found myself
falling swiftly through the air of destruction
hitting the ground--crushed by the weight of my burden resulting in a complete dispersion of the fragments of my fragmented being— looked down and saw the frail corpse of my appearance laying at my exposed feet
leaving my body at the scene, I began the
search for the scattered pieces of my spirit
As I walked down the road you joined me
and I found a piece of my poise
in the fabric of your support, and you
sewed it together so I could wear it
When I walked past your sepulcher I found
my tears buried in the ashes of your
intelligence , and I left them there with you
As I travelled through your gallery I found
my creativity in the strokes of your brush
and I seized them as my own
When I passed through our discourse
I found my cognitive empathy, and in the
presence of our fracas', I let it grow durable
When I ran through your teachings I found
my intellect in the beauty of your mind
and I dedicated my fervor to you
As you join me in the search for myself
I am eager for what pieces I may
find in you, and I cherish this feeling
because it is the perception of love
A few years ago I reached a point in my life where I believed there was nothing more that life could offer me. I found myself sitting on a windowsill with my legs hanging in the air. While I never physically jumped, metaphorically I did. This event made me realize just how broken I was and once I recovered, I began the search that I describe in the poem. Each instance in this poem where I find a piece of myself is a specific moment in my life and each instance has a specific person attached, but they will remain nameless as I refer to all of them as "you".
Hot I was when I came
Cold they told me became , So I became.
Later they told me you are so Cold
So I melted and became Hot again.
Now when I am hot I burn myself and others as well.
Now no one cares if I am hot or cold.
This is about how we are so innocent and outspoken when we are born and then told by our elders to mellow down. Later as we grow up , the same poeple and others tell you how diplomatic you are. So some change back to this state of being honest only to hurt others in the long run and ultimately being with a few or alone for the rest of their life.