It's interesting how people say
"the ugly truth."
Is the truth ugly?
I don't think so.
Lies are ugly.
Lies cause pain.
Lies cause bad decisions.
Lies cause death.

Truths may be hard to handle,
but I would much rather hear
a hard truth
than an
easy lie.

I want to know your
Opinion,
that's why I'm asking.
I may be hurt,
but I would rather
hear it from you,
my friend,
than have myself exposed
stupidly
in front of hundreds.

"Does this make me look fat?"
Don't say no.
I'm a big girl.
If  you see my belly button,
The answer is yes.

"Does this poem sound stupid?"
Well,
Does it?

**** your consumerist
"holiday."
There is nothing special about
today.
I might be bitter,
about being alone.
Again.
but, I don't see the point.
Cheap little cards,
****** candy.
Why?
For love?
No.
For money?
Yes.
Valentines day is not
for you
and your
sweet heart.
It is for
the corporations.
Selling their confections,
their cards,
their lingerie.
Bet it doesn't feel special
anymore,
Does it?

Hey dude.
You know I'm here.
Don't lie.
Your girlfriend
treats
you
like
****.
Can't you notice
me?
The one who's been
here for you,
the one who wants nothing
more than to
hold you,
kiss you,
and make you feel
like I know that *****
can't.

Marijuana

A lovely high.
Floating through life
as a neutral being.
Not really caring if life goes
this way,
or that.
Just remaining
numb.

Mushrooms

Beauty.
Absolute beauty.
Love in everything,
you see grace.
You feel the colors
of life.
Focusing intently,
appreciating things that people
normally pass by.
Loving life,
loving living.

Molly

Touch
Touch
Touch
All you want to do is
Touch
Feel
Caress.
Short attention span.
Touch me.
I'll touch you too.

*******

Hyper
Hyper
Oh my God
Can we go do something?
Let's smoke a cigarette,
And go for a drive.
This song is amazing.
I want to go do
Push ups.

Acid

I've never seen
Anything
So glorious.
What is that??
Oh my god
It's awesome.
Why do people
Worry
About becoming
Perma-fried?
That would be
Epic.

Happiness?
Money?
It's hard to find a
Common ground.
Hard to find
Balance
On a line so thin.

Precariously
Teetering,
Bound to fall on
One side, or
The other.

Slave for hours
Days
Weeks
Years.
For what?
Money.

Or, you will fall
On the side of
Happiness.
Do what you
Dream.
However, for
Most of us,
That doesn't include
An income.

Maybe you like
Piercings,
Tattoos,
Hair dye.
Employers don't.

You are a
Circle, a
Triangle, a
Hexagon,
Trying to get to
The work force
Where only
Squares
Are welcome.

As much as
You want to
Remain true to yourself,
You change.

Take out your
Piercings,
Hide your
Tattoos,
Put your crazy
Hair dye
Back on the shelf
For now.

Redrawing yourself
Into that
Square
Society requires you
to be.

I love you
No,
I loved you.
Parts of you were
everything
I could have asked for.
But,
I am not your punching bag.
I will not be hit.
I will not be screamed at
day
after
day.
I deserve to be loved
as much as I love
and you,
obviously,
cannot provide that.

I walk in the hallways now,
seeing friends smiling at me,
and the smile I return
is no longer a plastered
mask.
Long talks are a
daily commodity,
be them great,
or not so much.
I’m happy that
I can talk to them.
Happy that they
want to talk to me.
Happy that I get to be
with people that don’t
know how fake I was,
and that accept me
because Maddy
IS important.
However, I am mostly
just happy that I can be
me.

Leaving home,
leaving memories
and friends behind;
fighting tears
as you pack up
your life in a backpack,
close the door of the truck,
and watch everything
you’ve ever known
fade into the distance

would be
such a good thing?

To be cared about,
to have someone
who truly believes
you are important?

Everyone wants this,
everyone needs this.
Deep,
deep down,
there is a craving
for love
in everyone,
taking shelter in
your soul.

However,
there are some people
who never get that
attention
who are denied the
affection
that they need.
And for some strange reason,
that person was always
me.

A twelve year old girl
sits on her bed,
eyes puffy,
face dripping with tears.

She shows this to no one.
No one understands the pain
she feels
deep inside, the raging
hurt from too many
years of hurtful words.
No one asks,
no one cares.
No one can see
Who she is.

Hidden behind her
fake smiles,
fake laughter,
no one sees
her pain.

The only evidence
is the scars,
the scabs,
the wounds
from losing the battles
with herself.

We pride ourselves on being ‘America the Free’,
But how are we free when a he can’t marry a he?
Homosexuality is found in over 90 species,
but homophobia is only found in one.
If you want to blame someone, blame the straight people.
They’re the ones who keep having gay sons.
Not one Disney princess is a lesbian,
Not one superhero is gay.
Not all girls want a prince charming.
And not all men want a heroine someday.
They say, "Love is blind."
So why are we so blind to fact that love is love?
What has America come to that we’d rather see men holding guns, than holding hands?
Until recently, in the US military, admitting that you’re gay, had bans.
Homosexuality isn’t a disease.
You can’t catch it, and you can’t cure it.
Please.
Tiger Woods can have 19 mistresses,
Britney Spears can have a 55 hour marriage,
Kim Kardashian can get married for publicity,
But GAYS are corrupting the institution of marriage?
Closets are for clothes, not hiding.

Your devious smiles
fill my days with happiness.
Enveloped in your arms,
I am protected.

Curled up on your chest,
stroking your stomach.
Even in complete silence
we connect, and every second
is pure joy.

I wish you understood
how much I love you.
How much you mean to me.
If you could listen to my heart,
you would never argue
that you love me more.

Every second with you
is the new best moment
of my life. I hope
that you feel the same.

I hope I’m what makes you
smile at random times,
what pops up in your mind
when you’re alone.
Because that’s how it is
for me.

Even when blank
you flash with memories.
Mindless doodles,
quickly jotted poems.
Stains of past lessons
still remain.

How many eyes
have gazed out at
your white vastness?
How many hands
have nervously fumbled
with your squeaky markers,
scrambling for answers
inside their own minds?

Do you see us?
Some racing to
take the notes
scribbled upon your
pallor surface,
and others facedown
on the desk,
trying to recover
sleep that was lost.

What have you created?
Perhaps a scientist,
or a few?
A lawyer, a doctor,
maybe two?
Without you,
oh ever-present whiteboard,
I doubt our teachers
would know what to do.

My mentor,
my friend,
my stepfather.
Loved by so many,
taken so quickly.
Leaving hundreds heartbroken,
never would have been his intention.
Who would have known
that a heart so big,
was so thoroughly diseased?

The wake of his death was
a raging storm.
It was needles in our souls.
Our tears became oceans,
in which we were slowly drowning.

But no matter how sad
we were then,
it’s better now.
We’ve found a new normal,
and the essence of his spirit
is ever present
in our hearts.

My breath raggedly escapes my lips
as I let out a fierce battle cry.
I’m being pushed, shoved, and punched
while my heart pulses to the beat of the music.

My hairspray is glue,
and my hair is now an octopus, clinging to my face.
Everyone’s body heat creates
a sweltering pocket; and I am in a sauna,
moist with sweat that isn’t mine.

The quick tempo of the bass
penetrates everything and everyone,
and suddenly the crowd is one
hot, sweaty, throbbing mass.
How beautiful it is.

Suddenly there is pain and light,
and a fist pulls away from my face.
My eye stings, but adrenaline pumps through me
rather than blood, and I am invincible.

Someone picks me up, and I am on top.
Crowd surfing, above everyone.
No one can bring me down,
because here I am free.

The air was thick
and sweet, a warm
summer night.
In front of the store
with my greatest
taboo,
the boy that belonged
to another.
Standing there,
with soft eyes
shining
in the light of
the full moon.
How badly I yearned
for this, I craved
him.
That night, when
our lips first
met,
I was struck
with an overwhelming
need
to keep him
in my arms,
forever.