It takes courage to live in a world
that doesn't love you.
But it takes a warrior's heart
to love it anyhow.

  ~mce

Foot tapping
Hand shaking
Mind racing
Walls breaking
Strength taking
Nail biting
Head throbbing
Knees clattering
Life shattering

*Leave me,
Anxiety!

Why do I like poetry?
The answer isn't easy.
I've never been good at explaining.
To me, it always seemed so draining.

Well, you see,
Poetry is good to me.
I've never been good at conversation.
I always have too many hesitations.

I can express how I feel.
I am free to be real.
I've never been good at opening up.
My walls are far too thick to touch.

But somehow rhyme,
Puts a hold on time.
And I feel so liberated
And a little less frustrated.

Since I'm impaired in verbal communication,
It seems that poetry has been a useful innovation.
These words are easily writable,
Yet make me feel so much less vulnerable.

Poetry is a passionate way to express emotion,
Without causing chaos and commotion.
You can interpret poetry whatever way,
You feel most like this particular day.

Poetry is liberation
Free from condemnation
Poetry rids life
Of all its strife

I always wondered why people frowned at me
Without reason or apparent controversy
Until I was told, against all odds
That supposedly my face is the cause.

"Resting ***** face" is what they call it
They say my eyes glare out of their sockets
And honestly this makes no sense
I have to come to my own defence.

Are you mad?
Are you sad?
Are you okay?
I thought she hated me...

Yes, it's true, I've heard it all
Somehow I'm the one who takes the fall
For any petty issue that's produced
From your misreading! It's no abuse!

What? No, I'm fine. I was just thinking.
Why are you always pick, pick, picking?
Just leave me alone. I've done no wrong!
What do you want? Me to burst into song?

Do you know how much effort it takes to keep
A smile on my face while I'm falling asleep?
If it bothers you, don't look at me.
I'm really not trying to mislead.

Look, I'm sorry if you're offeneded.
I just think it's time that this has ended.
I don't want to lose any more friends
Because the way my face naturally bends.

Please understand that I don't mean
The expression my resting ***** face puts on for me.

She's just an old soul that was placed in a teenager's body.
She hopes for the world, but does not ask for much.
Just a kind word, a hand to hold, and some decent company.



-m.n.
01/07/2015

He thumps in your chest
Never stops to rest
Beat and beat
From head to feet
Keeps you going
Keeps blood flowing
Pumps life in you
'Til your life is through

Despite his cause
He recieves no applause
For he's to blame
For all our pain
But is that true
If only we knew
The anatomical heart
Isn't the one tearing us apart

He does his job
Doesn't blab his gob
And yet we gloat
On our scapegoat
We point our flaws
Against all laws
And he is the defendant
Still we are so dependant

He says, "I'm full of reason.
I've comitted no treason.
If you feel drained,
Accuse the brain.
She always gets away with it.
It makes me want to have a fit.
She toys with your emotions.
I've created no commotion."

Feeling comes from our mind
So next time try to be kind
Because the atomical heart
Is an important body part
And you wouldn't want to beat it down
Then one day find that it has drowned
In your false accusations
Made by your frustrations