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Feb 2014 · 612
Behind the Curtains
Thay Feb 2014
your eyes are but stained glass
with hues of a forest and ocean combining
and they look into my pupils
and they try to see the agony

but some windows have curtains
draped behind the panes
to keep outsiders from looking in

behind these curtains is
a distraught person, curled upon
the floor in fear that a
voice that was not there is growing louder
and louder and fulfills the
pleasure of being a monster

and if the curtains open,
the monster within can be seen
by you, an outsider, and things
that should not be seen are
brought unto the light

and your eyes, your stained glass
with specks of forest and ocean
will darken while noting my despair

and you see, this is why I
can never let anyone in
Feb 2014 · 321
Essence of Him
Thay Feb 2014
I know it sounds weird
but I just want to flatten my chest
and grow a little taller
and make my hips much smaller.

I just want to look like someone
who doesn't know I exist,
but he is someone who I wouldn't mind being

I want to be him but no
they tell me otherwise so
I'm stuck as a female
wanting to be the essence of him
Feb 2014 · 248
2 More Days
Thay Feb 2014
until I get the help I need,
until I'm finally free...

I tell myself to hold on,
to stay strong,
just 2 more days
Feb 2014 · 356
In Hiding
Thay Feb 2014
A cage that is my skin
is what I'm trapped within
and I am sure that they won't let me break out

So misunderstood
I don't know if they would
accept me or if they'd fill themselves with doubt

And so I stand here,
waiting, hoping, wishing
that I can just be me.
Feb 2014 · 338
Her
Thay Feb 2014
Her
I do what the teacher says:
make people that I know or once knew
into these groups and describe them.

So I sort them into said groups:
broken, struggling, abusers...
and I stumble onto one person.

The one person could fit into one group
or another, but they seem too good for that,
too pure for struggling, too beautiful for family...

So I do the unthinkable:
her.
I write it on the paper in a different color than the others.

I find myself sighing at the thought
and a smile grows upon my lips
as her brown eyes pop into my head

I can see her clearly, with her pale
skin and her head tilting in wonder;
how I wish I could see her once more...

She is too good for any other category,
and for one moment, I seem to get caught
Off guard with the emotions.

Her.
I love...
Her.
Feb 2014 · 358
What Hurts
Thay Feb 2014
Here's what hurts.

What hurts is that you can't
Take me in a serious tone or
You think everything is a joke.

You yelled at me, knowing I
Hate the obnoxious shrill of
Such a noise.

What hurts is that you
Triggered me
Back to back to back.

But what hurts the most?

You can't handle me at my worst.
Just a venting poem.

— The End —