Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jessie Aug 2013
He says humans are so strange,
with our self-absorbency.
But when he points his finger out,
he looks no different than me.

Things will go unknown,
Because they will not be said,

Though it is unfortunate that at first sight,
It seems as if what is known shouldn't be
and what isn't should be,
From an outsider looking in.

But
it doesn't matter
Does it?

as long as
"everybody"
is

happie
.
Jessie Apr 2011
fake a smile
for after a while
that simple deed
could help one in need
and may plant the seed
of a smile that's real
and then you will feel
that there is really no doubt
you have something to smile about.
Jessie Apr 2011
Tea
I love to drink tea.
It's just so good for me.
But if I drink too much tea,
It makes me really have to ***.
But there is no place I'd rather be;
Even though I have to ***,
I will sit right here and drink my tea,
As it's very good for me--
Just me and my cup of tea.
Jessie Apr 2011
One night I was with a friend,
Visiting and spending time.
I took a sip of water,
And set the glass on the table nearby
Without looking.

When I turned to the glass
To take another sip,
I noticed the glass was only
Halfway
On the Table.

If the table is bumped,
If I don't grasp the glass
Just right
It could fall.
I looked at it,
Almost afraid to
Touch it.
It was an accident
Waiting
To happen.

I looked closer to the water in the glass
And saw my reflection
And realized
That I was the glass,
Just waiting to spilled,
On the edge,
Just waiting
For someone to shake my table
And let me fall
To shatter on the ground
With water all around.
Jessie Apr 2011
what am i?

person
     animal
body          
    (      
   organs
      bones
  teeth
    fingernails
           skin
               )


soul?
.

have i
    always
been    
        here
?    

what was i
before      
i was a
         blob of goo
in the womb?    
.
.
.
what will i be
when the
body      
is barely    
        dust?
.
.
(whose brain do i live in?)
.
.

*perhaps to
   someone else

i'm just the
little girl in their
imagination            
that lives
      in the attic

of a tall house,
sitting at her    
writing desk  

writing
poetry
this is the second part to "imaginary. . . ."
Jessie Apr 2011
who
       are
            you?

what is your
                     name?

why are you here,
          living in my
                          brain. . . . .?

tell me everything
             everything

where
           did you come from?

(
she's a tiny light in my heart-
the giggle you hear when i'm
happy-
)

she
is
always
here

and
was
always
there
when
no
on­e
else
was
.
.
(she is the one who is me when i am not)
.
.

*though
            she already
                     knows
                         me

i will spend
                     forever
getting to
                     know her~~
this is about Jessica (my imaginary friend), of course. ". . . .real" is the second poem in the poem duet.
Jessie Apr 2011
Life is too busy with its own simple demands,
And subtle rejections for dreamers. She's been asleep
For a day and a half, but she hasn't closed her eyes
In over twenty four hours. She watches the
Clock, begging it to move slowly. Just give her
A little longer in her blanket, her bed, her
Fortress, before the day has to begin.

She lays frozen, like a fleshy Popsicle,
Waiting for even hunger to offer a different
Feeling. Life, with its tedious footsteps into the
Office, and its lonesome visits to the shrine of the
Porcelain god, for a moment of silence from
Chatter over coffee, and the tapping of
Keyboards; life is too noisy for dreamers.

Just let her sleep a while longer,
For dreams and darkness offer more
To a mind starved for beauty,
Than sunlit strolls to crowded buildings
Ever did. She drinks her coffee with only
One sugar, five times a day. She fills her
Blood with caffeine and time. She watches the
Clock, daring it to move quickly. She screams
Inside her head until it's time to go home, and
Lay back in bed.
redone.
Next page