little bear: Poems

Sep 2013 · 1.6k

little bear Sep 2013

i sat silently
and watched the bugs crawl by.
they weren't butterflies,
or caterpillars,
or ladybugs.

i watched the flies
and the crickets
and the ants.
moving in a secret art no one bothered to take note of.

they were the friends i met in the hallway.
they were shy,
but if you looked at them long enough,
you could see the beauty no one else saw.

if you find beauty in the bugs everyone does not find beautiful,
you can find it in others.

people are like bugs,
similar, but different,
each holding their own design.

everyone has beauty,
you just have to find it.
even if it means sitting in the hallways alone,
watching the bugs no one cares to look at.

Aug 2013 · 525

the death of a friend

little bear Aug 2013

the death of a friend

cigarette lungs,
decaying with every heavy breath.
"i don't smoke to enjoy it. i smoke to die" you once said.
i remembered it as i watched the dirt cover your face and enter your lungs.
you met death and he accepted you with open arms,
cold hands,
and a hungry soul.
you didn't ask me much,
but you told me every time you wanted to jump in front of a car,
and you held my hand knowing that if you did it i'd be going too.
you never wanted me to die,
but you knew i began decaying like you,
slowly and painfully,
until my mind had burnt a painful hole in my chest.
as though someone had burnt out their cigarette using my confidence.
i shook with the same pain,
wanting to die but wanting to live a little more.

you pinned the dead butterflies and hung them in frames in your bedroom.
you told me you wished you could look beautiful when you died.
you knew that the grave you would end up in would be full of maggots and forgetfulness.
no one would remember the makeup you laboriously put on every day to look alive.
"no one will remember us" you told me.
you held my hand and told me to jump but my hand slipped.
i wanted to die,
but i wanted to live.
i was terrified of dying and you knew it.
you looked back with pain.
the rocks welcomed your pale body and i was left on the mountain that hovered above your unfriendly graveyard.

the morning of your funeral i remembered black.
i remembered black was your favorite color and you would be looking forward to swimming in a large space of black nothingness.
you told me you hoped you'd see stars and watch them burn while you floated around in nothing.

i didn't know what to say.
but the night sky makes me think of you and i like to think that you're sitting on some star watching it die the same way i watched you die.

Aug 2013 · 670

the death of a friend

little bear Aug 2013

the death of a friend

cigarette lungs,
decaying with every heavy breath.
"i don't smoke to enjoy it. i smoke to die" you once said.
i remembered it as i watched the dirt cover your face and enter your lungs.
you met death and he accepted you with open arms,
cold hands,
and a hungry soul.
you didn't ask me much,
but you told me every time you wanted to jump in front of a car,
and you held my hand knowing that if you did it i'd be going too.
you never wanted me to die,
but you knew i began decaying like you,
slowly and painfully,
until my mind had burnt a painful hole in my chest.
as though someone had burnt out their cigarette using my confidence.
i shook with the same pain,
wanting to die but wanting to live a little more.

you pinned the dead butterflies and hung them in frames in your bedroom.
you told me you wished you could look beautiful when you died.
you knew that the grave you would end up in would be full of maggots and forgetfulness.
no one would remember the makeup you laboriously put on every day to look alive.
"no one will remember us" you told me.
you held my hand and told me to jump but my hand slipped.
i wanted to die,
but i wanted to live.
i was terrified of dying and you knew it.
you looked back with pain.
the rocks welcomed your pale body and i was left on the mountain that hovered above your unfriendly graveyard.

the morning of your funeral i remembered black.
i remembered black was your favorite color and you would be looking forward to swimming in a large space of black nothingness.
you told me you hoped you'd see stars and watch them burn while you floated around in nothing.

i didn't know what to say.
but the night sky makes me think of you and i like to think that you're sitting on some star watching it die the same way i watched you die.

Jul 2013 · 507

sinners in silence

little bear Jul 2013

sinners in silence

i don't write in a journal anymore.
you are my journal.
i speak my thoughts aloud to you,
like a confession.

i tell you all my sad thoughts,
my dying wishes,
my hopes,
and my dreams.
you don't speak in return.
you just hold my hand quietly next to me.

silently we sit in my sins,
pooling to the ground like blood from an open wound.

Jul 2013 · 457

pathetic

little bear Jul 2013

pathetic

i feel disgusting.
i feel the worst i have felt in a very long time.
i don't write in journals,
for i fear my minds self-destruction.

i feel pathetic.
more and more each day.
when i realize that i am the one who cannot stand to be without you.

maybe my mind is playing tricks on me.
making me think that you think that i don't matter.

it's just really hard only having one person you want to talk to all the time.
****. what the hell am i even saying.

Jul 2013 · 2.1k

mood:

little bear Jul 2013

mood:

this fruit is rotting on my tongue.
and i just feel like crying.
this stress just seems to grab with with it's large meaty hands and suffocate me until i cannot focus.
i'm a morbid wallflower with no real intention on getting better at talking to people i don't know.

Jul 2013 · 915

the young novelist

little bear Jul 2013

the young novelist

i was a young girl,
the age of fourteen,
when my friends were paperback novels.

when the kids used to laugh at me in my face.

i wanted to disappear from the terrible world i was born into.

i found refuge in the yellowed pages,
where the story was not my own,
where their troubles related to mine.
these characters were my only friends.
they held my hand when i cried.
when i was made fun of for being so **** antisocial.

the endings made me so sad.
it was an internal death of an unknown,
unacknowledged soul.

i was the child who read on the bus,
who stayed up too late to read the last of the old pages.

they inspired me to be free.
to live life the best i could.
they gave me hope for a happy ending.

at the age of fifteen,
i scarred my skin.
i'd forgotten the happy endings i used to read about.

i felt like a character in a book when i wilted inside.
when i took the painkillers,
hoping for an overdose.
it was an internal death of an unknown,
unacknowledged soul.

i woke up at the first hour of the day,
unsuccessful,
but successful.

i scribbled on the blank pages of books,
i wrote my soul on the pages and it poured out on the floor like an acidic pool of experiences.

i was a damaged soul,
but daisies grew from the cracks of my heart,
and a new life was born inside an old one.

Jul 2013 · 441

today

little bear Jul 2013

today

i am the worst person alive today.
i can't express myself either;
and that's really all i have.
without that i am nothing.
i am a blank sheet of school paper,
without lines,
without holes.
serving no purpose.

there is a fire burning inside of me,
creating a hole inside my chest;
full of disappointment,
sadness,
loneliness.

Jul 2013 · 4.8k

daisy

little bear Jul 2013

daisy

YOU ARE THE DAISY IN THE DESERT, PERHAPS YOU THINK YOU ARE ALONE
(if you don't count the grains of sand)
BUT SOMEONE WILL BE GLAD THEY FOUND YOU AND YOU WILL MAKE SOMEONE SMILE, PERHAPS CRY OUT WITH JOY.

YOU ARE MINISCULE BUT YOU ARE IMPORTANT.

DO NOT FORGET THAT.

Jul 2013 · 453

distract yourself

little bear Jul 2013

distract yourself

"i am happy today" you repeat
over and over
until you can't speak
where you're still tearing skin
"i am happy today" you repeat to yourself
you know no one will care if you're sad
no one will ask you if you're okay
"i am happy today" you say while you cry
while the pills in your fist are unable to be concealed
while you choke on your heavy heart
"i am happy today"

Jul 2013 · 369

g h o s t s

little bear Jul 2013

g h o s t s

my ghosts,
they turn to me in the night
they hold my hand when i am alone
they know my secrets
i cannot go on knowing my ghosts will forever hurt me

i need to separate myself from them
but they have become a part of my soul

Jul 2013 · 332

*

little bear Jul 2013

*

this poem is to the silent survivor of dark and lonely nights,
to the broken child,
and those lost along the way

i want to say thank you
for being alive
even when at times you were dead.
for leaving those people who hurt you behind,
to grow into a beautiful human filled with beautiful thoughts and actions

you are more than your scars would have you think

Jul 2013 · 384

dark love

little bear Jul 2013

dark love

you whispered my name in the dark
you held my bare skin tight
i thought i'd be the only person left in the world
loveless. lonely.
you touched my skin with so much passion and i could not avoid how deeply i fell in love with you that night

— The End —