I used to walk with hate.
Brimstone in my chest was my heart.
Misanthrope-Hater of humans.
Hate for the way they daycare the planet with,
War, Hate, Theft, Violence, Torture, Madness.
I was human too and I wasn't that bad,
so self help books is where I began.
With that start I began to become art.
However, I didn't know where I was going or what to do with what I was learning.
I was at the inception without an origin.

                                       Then,
                                              I met her

                                         It was nothing at first
       She was nothing and so was I.
                                   I didn't even think she was all that attractive,
            back then.
                             She was a nobody and so was I.
                       A ******.
                                                         ­                      An odd ball.
                                         A stranger.
                      weak,
           wacky,
                                                          ­                          STRONG,
                           ­         ****,
                       average,
                                                        ­           amaZING!

                                                       ­     I didn't know what to call her.
                  Now she's a friend and only the future could tell.
            And yet, she made me happy.
She made me more me.
                                     My thoughts were so lost
            all over.
                                          she did this.
                                                           ­ I thought I hated it,
but she was a damaged good.
She made it good to be damaged.
                                                        ­                                 And I was so broken.

It took so long to figure it out and I was so confused.
Despite her not knowing or feeling the same.
Despite all the hardship.
Even if it means nothing.
Some way and manner,
I can't explain or understand.

                                                    ­I love her

I CLAWED MY WAY INCH BY INCH THROUGH THE THICKEST FOG OF DEATH  AND I DECENT LIKE A GOD!

BASK IN MY GLORY!
FINGER NAILS MISSING WITH NUMB HANDS!

DEATH IS MORE THAN DYING!
DEPRESSION, SADNESS, FEAR, HATE, WEAKNESS ,ANGST, AGONY, LETHARGY, LONELY !

THE AGENTS OF DEATH NO LONGER HOLD ME,
THEY NO LONGER OWN ME!

I AM THE RADIANT ****
THE COSMIC FLASH
I AM THE SOLID MASS, WALKING THROUGH THE FIRE OF DARKNESS !
I AM THE UNDYING BLAZE!

I AM MORE THAN A MAN,
GREATER THAN A GOD
I AM BEYOND MY OWN COMPREHENSION!


Fates worse then Death are the ones we choose to let our hearts be imprisoned by.

I DECIDE MY FATE!
HISTORY WILL REMEMBER ME!
I WILL NOT DIE!

Hello Poetry
I'm on hellopoetry.
Writing about hell on poetry.
My life is here, in this section, coming out in reflection.
This is a new step into life.
I stand straight with arms out and I enjoy the breeze.
I am back after doubt and I forgive.
I've crossed the river bringing victory.
My poems brought out by a significant figure.
My life a mystery in this mysterious adventure.
I am where I belong.

I never learned to sleep, I enjoyed the night to much.
I always have and may always will.
It's an addiction to getting more from time.
Why sleep when I can catch up on:
TV
Reading
Exercise
The moon
Learning why,
we live.
There much more to explain and give.
Such as writing poetry.
But, sleep is needed and it is good.

Birth from Death.
To think it started from the end.
This is where the poems began, this is how they begin.
The first poem ever to free me from the darkest beings,who aren't so dark.
Began with the darkest thoughts no longer dark.
A poem of Death.
My oldest friend next loneliness.
I've lost family before birth, some during life, and I'll some after I die.
I learned to never comply,
with fear, worry, anxiety, I was always ready to die.

After my first poem jumped into the heart of my principle when I was in the fifth grade I knew I was a grade A writer.

She may have lost something when she lost someone so my poem spoke more than it should, but I lost the boundaries from chains that shackled my mind.

My words became strong and adept.
I was born from the dark and depths of Death

I love Orange Juice.
I am honestly addicted.
Breakfast, Lunch , and Dinner I'll enjoy this yellow liquid.
I 'll even drink some while cleaning the dishes,
mopping the floor,
open my door,
carry my self out and drink some more.

You ever had Orange Juice and Chocolate !?
Chocolate Chip cookies, Kit Kat, Hersey , Sneakers . Chocolate Cake, Fancy Chocolate , Chocolate ***, Twix !
Any of this,
fits the Chocolate and Orange Juice Fix.

I love the Tropicana Florida Made Orange Juice.
Is that what the Tropic's like?
Is that what Florida like?
The air and people give you a tang that at first is strange?
But in the end you'll say "I am addicted to these things" ?

I, love, Orange Juice.

I wish she didn't worry bout her look,
wish she didn't worry bout the way her hips shook.
Wish she didn't worry about her make up,
wish she didn't worry about getting all faked up.
Nails, Lips, Eyes,
I think the natural is fine.
But media corrupts what it wanna see,
cause we don't see what we wanna see.
Hair, Ears, Cloths,
all done for reasons I don't know,
jeweled out for reasons I don't know.
Going through pains  I don't  know.

I thought natural beauty is all that count,
I never understood why you'd get tricked out for self if it count.
Cause then I'm still told their is something wrong.
Why can't you just be with you and get along.