Your eyes circled
With shades of black
From the late nights
Of dealing with your monsters.

Life retreated from those blues
Many years ago.
I watched as the light faded,
Casting a dark shadow over your vision.

Death consumed the soul
You claimed you never had.
Becoming infatuated with the end
Than life itself.

Living for what tomorrow holds,
It wasn’t living at all.
Sensing your absence
Even when you were right in front of me.

You told me there is no God,
That this is all we have:
A cruel world
Crawling with greedy creatures.

People who have judged,
Took you in and threw you out,
Leaving scars and ghosts
That take residence in your mind.

There is no escape for you
Except by the means of a needle.
Apparently chemicals give you
Far more than I ever could.

You retreat into the darkness
The hole you dug yourself
Fleeing from the light.
From the world. From me.

Going through great lengths
I tried to save you.
But you didn’t want to be saved.
And you hated me for that.

The monsters escaped your closet.
No quarantine can save you now.
Because they not only reside in us
But in you as well.

You ask, “What’s the point
To this absurd life we lead?”
Constantly kicked to the ground
But this time, you can’t regain footing.

Exhausted by disappointment
Drained of emotion
You just want to end it all.
It would be easier, right?

You just want to feel loved, desired.
But babe, you are unable to see
How the blanket of intoxication
Blinds you from what’s before your eyes.

You say you hate everyone,
That no one understands.
Then who was I?
I was nothing to you.

I could have chose a simpler path,
Spare me this obnoxious ache.
Intrigued by this dangerous flame,
I was unable to resist.

I came too close,
Now scorched by the fire.
And I am unsure of when
This pain will subside.

With clear vision I can see
How our story will conclude.
Not only destroying yourself,
I will be capsized. I will be the one that loses.

You will end me,
My darling.
Take this knife from my chest
Before it sinks any further.

I’ve tried and I’ve tried.
You kept pushing me away.
So maybe this loneliness that accompanies you
Is more self-inflicted than realized.

I love you, my dear.
And that’s what makes this so difficult.
But I cannot continue searching for
What does not want to be found.

I can’t save you from yourself,
The monster that’s inside of you.
But I realized I can spare me
And I’m afraid that’s what I must do.

What is a poet?

Is it a writer who rhymes
in perfect time

Or a person who captures a moment
like a sunset with a crisp breeze to calm the humidity
with streaks of a cool yellow, and a dimmed down orange
light pinks and wispy clouds
in the dimming light

But what is a poet?

Without a pen and paper to capture their words
or a mouth to speak them
or a mind to think them

What is a poet?

without a life
without a story
without love or misery
without pain
without smiles

Is it a tortured soul or a happy idiot?

No, a poet is a poet.
With a mind to think and a soul to speak.

It is the same thing that we are told over and over
In all our classes, all our days
For one hundred and eighty days on end.

In math we are told about the Pythagorean theorem and Pathetic Fallacy~~
But some of us still do not know the value of "X".

It is after parents get called from teachers saying that their child is:
hyperactive
easily distracted
unfocused
doesn't do the proper thing
And that their child, who is brilliant, cannot be in a Level One class.

We all have different abilities and thought processes.
Why is it that a class full of individuals is tested by all of the same means?

Exams are the way society tells you your worth.

But it is the same society that:
says abortion is wrong but then looks down on teenage parents
promotes natural beauty but has models flushed with makeup, hair extentions, false lashes, and nails
shows slender people for their weight loss commercial that look like an hour glass already
has pastors that preach charity but own jets and sports cars
has Imams who preach against greed but are all fat
has parents who want their child to get a good education to get a good paying job but hate how rich the neighbors are
is run by governments that preach peace but endorse war
Has colleges who want smarter kids but increase the tuition

What does it mean to "make the mark?"

to the kids who study hard and barely miss the target
to the kids that know what it feels like to be worth that D or that A when a teacher hands back a test
to the kids who are never good enough in their English teacher's eyes
to the kids whose writing is missing key literary techniques or was too informal to be understood

What does it mean to "make the mark?"

to the math teacher who pesters you about trying harder when you can't tell them "X" but can tell them the date of any war
to the science teacher who tells you to know the periodic table and yells in distress of their 'worst student'

We're told everything that we learn we'll use the information again but never do when we walk out the door.

They try to prepair you for the world, but they don't prepair you for life.

always being the second best
not getting the scholarship that you needed to go to college
not getting the solo on your last concert night.

not being able to make the mark

What does it mean to "make the mark?"

Lives among us never change
the story remains the same
times don't change
and most importantly neither do we

Men come of boys
rebel against their fathers
love their mothers
and hate the world they've just inherited

Women come of girls
grow apart from their shame
and blossom complete and true
ready to tend a world loved by few

Sacrifices made
are for none
are for one another
and for themselves.

Risks are taken
rules are breakn'
Smiles of ours faken

We grow to love the lost
And regret
never realizing
how good we had it

until it

like life

is gone.

You may work hard,
keeping your head down.
You may keep your hand up
and mind open.
You may be friendly or introverted.

You are free to your virtues and vices
To do what makes you happy,
and spend time with any and everyone.

but never attach yourself to anyone.
That's the only Rule.

If you do, they'll all leave you,
and take with them all you had.

What should I write about?
I can't seem to think.
My poetry talent is filling with doubt,
It seems to be as bad as my lackluster "wink"

Maybe I will write about my life?
How much I love who I am.
I could write about my strife,
Or how I strike life like a battering ram.

Those all seem so "cliche"
I need to think DEEP.
Should I write about today?
Or how I didn't get any sleep?

No one cares about those things...
But what can I make interesting?
I cold exaggerate my love life...
Nope, that wouldn't be anything.

All right. Here we go. I'll write what first comes to mind.
I will close my eyes and wait,
And hope there is something to find.
Just set my thoughts strait...

Roses are red,
Violets are blut,
This prom won't work,
Maybe I should write a haiku

Okay, I admit it!
I can't write poetry.
But maybe someday Ill gain wit
And create wonderful comedy.

I am now a woman
I am because I say so
It doesn't matter who says I can't
It doesn't matter who says "no!"

I became a woman
Through caring for others
I sacrificed, and can
See how my future grows

I didn't give up anything
I didn't give up trust
I haven't given up my dignity
I didn't feed into man's lust

No, I did is on my own
Without a drop of falsehood
I became what I want known
And not what should hide in the wood

I gave up things for others
I prayed and spoke to God
I sacrificed for my sisters and brothers
I prayed, and held fast to my rod

My mom, when she comes home,
Will be so proud of me
She will see what I've become
And praise me for what I'll be

I can't await to hear her voice
And how much she will jump of joy
When she looks at my rejoice
And understands why I am no toy

Now, I am a woman,

Or at least, I think I am