Johnnie Rae

Johnnie Rae Aug 2013

Being home is like
being back under the bell jar
(To quote the great Sylvia Plath)
Back under the bell jar, where the air
is stale and ***** and before long
you begin to suffocate.
You feel trapped as would a firefly,
on one of those warm summer nights
where you run around in the grass
feeling the moisture on your bare feet
as you catch as many of the twinkling lights
as you can before they hide for the night.
Trapped, slowly suffocating because in your nightly
adventure, you are careless and free, and this
causes you to forget to put holes in the jar
where you imprison these wonders for the night.
But only for the night, for your carelessness has caused their demise
while you sleep beside these living night lights,
they begin to die, their lights not shining so bright
anymore, yes they die.
Their death symbolizes your depression as the bell jar
closes you in and you become claustrophobic
gasping for the air you know waits just outside your prison
but it's not really there for you will never escape
this horrible place they've put you in
Yes I've twisted catching fireflies into a murderous action
but believe me,

It always was

Johnnie Rae Aug 2013

Home Sweet Home. Can I Leave?

I'm back home today,
and the feeling of this town is just the same.
As I ride back into Jersey,
I'm overcome with the emotion,
And it feels just the same.
My mind swarms with thoughts of the people,
I'd really rather not see.
My mind swarms with the thoughts of insults,
That will slip off their tongues with ease,
Just as soon as they get the chance to.
This old town has too many memories for me.
Too many seconds chances,
That ended in rivalry.
Too many reasons to say goodbye, really.
With the only reason to keep me around, being him.

I'll get to see him in a couple days.
That's the one thing I really need.
To be wrapped in his arms will solve everything,
For a while.
But that still doesn't change my feelings,
I'd rather be anywhere than ***** ******* jersey.

Johnnie Rae Jul 2013

Sorry

The words of my sorrows can not express the feelings behind them.
The only thing I wanna do is say sorry. But I know shes heard it a thousend times.
Like rain drops hitting an umbrella or the stars at night.
I really am sorry.
Baby, you are my world

Im sorry baby, I really am- Brendan

Johnnie Rae Jul 2013

Burned.

Is it too far fetched to believe,
that I'll sometimes take a match to my fingertips,
just to make sure that this is real.
That this is real and not some horrible nightmare.
Some horrible nightmare where everything is wrong
and I can't seem to make it right.
Some horrible nightmare where everyone is against me,
and I can't do anything about it.
Where I'm just stuck and can't seem to wake up.
Sometimes I take that match to my fingertips,
hoping that's its all some twisted nightmare,
and that it'll all be over soon.
But all the time,
I get burned.

Reality *****. Especially when reality is worse than the nightmares.

Johnnie Rae Jul 2013

Sorry..

I'm sorry you're being lied to,
and you don't believe it when I tell you the truth.

too much drama.

Johnnie Rae Jul 2013

Love Like Ours

I love him like the
sea loves the shoreline
and is forever running back
to kiss it once more.

I love him like the
moon loves the night sky,
and leads the way for those
who've become lost.

I love him like
these things and more
and no other love can compare
to a love like ours.

My baby has always stuck by me through everything. I don't care about any fight or argument. I love him, and nothing is going to change that because through everything, he's been there.

Johnnie Rae Jul 2013

Ashamed

Ashamed
about everything that is anything about me.
From my head to my toes,
I find myself disgusting.
Ashamed
about the way I can never seem
to find myself pretty
because I'm not.
Ashamed
to know that
I'll never be as good
as I could be
because I'm not as pretty
as I'd like to be.
Ashamed
to look in the mirror
and see an image of self hatred
staring back at me.
Ashamed
about the way
my thighs are too fat
and my chest
is too flat
and my **** is too big
and I just can't seem to
lose those last five pounds
that are driving me insane.
Ashamed
about the way
I'll skip meals and
then feel sick but won't
say anything
because beauty hurts
and to be sick is to be thin.
Ashamed
about the way
I can't seem to stay
happy, even though I keep
telling myself I should be.
Ashamed
about the way
I can't stop smoking
and I can't stop cutting
all because I like
how it takes the
pain away.
Ashamed
about the way
every time I see a razor blade
I get this rush of anxiety
that I can't shake until
I give into the pain
Ashamed
about they way
I can't seem to kick this
Nicotine addiction so
I can stop shaking.
Ashamed
about the way
every time I climb
higher up the ladder
I fall twice as fast
and even farther down
into places the sun just
doesn't reach.
Ashamed
about the way
people love me
and I just can't seem
to do the same

for myself.