I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)

Break my bones;
cut my throat.
Pull me open,
learn the ropes.

Breath me in;
taste the fear.
Shank my skin;
stand and cheer.

Kick my head;
let me bleed.
Unbolt my veins;
enjoy the read.

Gouge my eyes;
punch my face.
Wrap me up
in your embrace.

I felt the earth bring me to life
rooted from the ground up
nourished in soil that was rich
but the earth has now brought me down
and my life is a tundra
because I'm alone
I am without a person to turn to and
it aches
I'm sorry that I'm mean
and I'm sorry that I'm full of problems
but I'm not sorry for everything I have given
to you
to everyone
how could an earth so great
pull me down to a level
of sadness and despair
I'm alone
and it's my fault
there's only one person to hate
and it's myself

Staring at my wall while feeling my pillow becoming a puddle of all the feelings i can't verbalize. They are always there, tearing me down from the inside and out
- as a reflection I leave the scars from my heart on my surface.
It's a cry for help.
I am worthless.
I am nothing.
They pretend to care, they don't think i know, but I do. Because every day I am pretending to smile.
Making it seem like I  want this life.
But i know that it's only a matter of time, before my inner demons takes over my body to make this unbearable pain end