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I don't mind a life,
that will be kind...

I don't mind a life,
of trying to do right...

I do not mind a life,
full of love....

I do not mind a life,
that wants to help others...

I do not mind a life,
of joy and happiness....

I do not mind a life,
that has no pride....

I do not mind a life,
of forgiveness and hope....

Yet I can't picture a life,
without god....
She was a girl,
with no place to go.....

Walking the streets,
because that's all she knows....

She sells her body,
to anyone for money.....

Twenty for a *******,
fifty for a lay.....

Enough to get her dope,
So she won't be sick for the day....

With a pump by her side,
she gives him her money.

But it's not enough,
so he beats her everyday....

Yet, does she feel secure,
or just scared everyday....

Day to day she ***** away,
a *** slave in America....

As her life knows,
no other way....
I would swallow my pride,
I would choke on the rinds......

But the lack there of,
would leave me empty inside.....

Swallow my doubt,
turn it inside out.....

Find nothing,
but faith in nothing.....

Want to put my tender,
heart in a blender.....

Watch it spin around,
to a beautiful oblivion.....

I burn, burn like a wicker cabinet,
chalk white and oh so frail......

I see our time has gotten stale.....
The tick tock of the clock is painful....

All sane and logical,
I want to tear it off the wall......

I hear words and clips and phrases....
I think sick like ginger ale....

My my thoughts are now only stale.....
My stomach turns and I exhale....

So Cal is where my mind states.....
But it's not my state of mind....

I'm not as ugly, sad as you....
Or am I origami, folded up and just pretend....

Demented as the motives in your head....
Your feelings show no emotions.....

I alone am the one you don't know.....
You need take heed, feed your ego....

Make me blind when your eyes close....
Sink when you get close, tie me to the bedpost....

I alone am the one you don't know....
You need, you don't know you need me....

Rendezvous then I'm through,
now I'm through with you......
I just wish you were here with me
So my loneliness could just fade away
I just want to be happy with you
I just wanna show you off
You're just a work of art
Wanted by collectors to exhibit
I was merely an artist
That appreciated this work of art
Can we just.....
Confess the words that are
trapped behind a stubborn mind
and every clause you conceal
because with every tear of light
and sailor in the night
ten million heavy hearts are breaking.

AND DON'T FORGET YOU AREN'T ALONE

think of all the computers
you sat and ate dinner not long ago
thinking you'd be asleep soon
but aha, you've got insomnia *******.

cheer up
for Christ sakes man
it's only a film
and you're at the center
maybe you'll look up some day
at distant stars and think
WOW we're just like that !
All my life I have been living on my own
Living well and yes having a few problems

I have always lived, knowing who God was
But never making him part of my life

As I have grown older
I have finally decided to start hanging out with him
He guides in a way that I have never expected

It is so cool, he is nothing like people portray him to be
He actually a really cool dude and we talk often

He differently knows how to have a good time
Some people want to meet my new friend, some don't

He tell's me Dave no big deal, I still got their back
He is such a good and loving man and ask nothing from me
Except to show real love and to help others

He has guided me in a way that you cannot believe
I still do a lot of the not so good things that I do
and he always forgives me

He is now my best friend and he has surrounded me with so many good people and has opened up many doors for me

Doors to success, wealth and gave me meaning
I'm seventeen.
I have scars lining my ribs, my thighs, my arms and my mind.
I either count my calories or blur them altogether; 500 a day or 4000 a day.
I am not an athlete.
I have no illnesses.
I've never been diagnosed.
I've simply been attempting to be the woman I've been demanded I be.
I'm failing, miserably.
Right now:
My mom is unconscious, failing to drown herself in alcohol.
My sister has locked herself in her room, isolating.
My dad is telling my neighbors their views are wrong,
And I am lying in bed, binge eating.
I'm seventeen.
This poem really does not have a beat.
This poem is a flow,
steadier than my self esteem.
Mirrors lie and pictures steal.
TV taunts and horror is real,
I'm seventeen and
I've tried to die,
I've learned to lie
To family.
I'm no stranger to the sisters death and night.
Death;
gives and takes, reaping the soil with the bodies of the ill
bodied,
minded,
hearted.
Night;
darkens the world, honing in on those I was promised I could turn to,
reminding them I am no refuge, I am ill
bodied,
minded,
hearted.
I'm seventeen and
My hands shake at the thought of losing my balance,
Ironic seeing as I won't even be standing
But the thought of disappointing you
Throws me down without hesitation.
I'm seventeen.

****.
I'm seventeen.
vent. old lines tossed in and out, I'm really unsure on this. just writing right now.
If I drew myself
If I drew a self-portrait
I’d use watercolor pencils
They’re easier to work with
And it’s just as easy to blend
They give more defined lines
A great choice I would think
I’d begin with an outline
Drawn in a mistaken
Grey or oops blue
Working my way bottom to
Top and right to left to maximize the unwanted
Smudges that will later become the mistakes which weren’t my own
I would move onto my face.  Switching to a false green color to start on
My eyes. Coloring the right iris, heavy handed the tip breaks. I sharpen it
Color in more as it goes from fake green to saddened black I stab through
The canvas bringing in some light from behind. Moving onto the left now
I go from green to useless brown. I’d dip the tip in water and just let the
Pencil sit, stuck to the canvas the color drips down the cheek pooling at
The jawline before stopping as if not wanting to let go. Snap goes the lead
Throwing away the pencil so it doesn’t bleed onto the other colors I move
Onto the lips this time. I’d go with pale promise to compliment the right eye
I would add hints of passive anger red and narcissism orange as highlights
For the skin I’d color it in disappointment, several shades, to show definition
I would then take a brush and dip it in water. I’d blend all the colors so it looks
Natural. Blending disappointment with anger, narcissism with uselessness
Fake with disappointment and the mistakes with everything that they touch
Once the painting dries I’d look onto the creation with the same look that a
Famous painter would give their child when they're told their painting *****
I would reluctantly sign my name, take a step back, and crumble the painting
Into a ball and throw it away saying to myself “I know you can do better”
Untie the knot in my throat
So that I can try to speak
Let the air flow to my lungs
So that I can remember to breathe
If I look away in disgust
It’s from the tears that want to run
Don’t mind my smile
It’s the only wall I have
a response to a panel about domestic violence
My memory lane is paved with memories I'd rather forget
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