As writers, we know
that it usually takes
a storm in order
to create a rainbow.
After the smoke clears
and you're laying there
with the blood from
your heart on
the sheets...
that's when you
start to write.
When you're looking
for someone at
the bottom of a
bottle,
or smoking your
second joint,
you write.
When you feel like
quitting that minimum
wage job
because you haven't slept
a full 8 hours since
last Halloween,
you write.
Because it's how we
breathe, cope, not end up
in the back of a cop car.
We hope that somehow the
words we spill onto
a piece of paper will
actually fix the problem
this time.

If I
didn't write
poetry,
I would
l
o
     sss
e
e

my
m i n d ..

Lately,
I feel like a very
small fish,
in the world's biggest
pond.
I'm so
overwhelmed and it's
taking it's toll,
see the dark circles
underneath my eyes
and whatever this look is
that has been stuck to
my face for weeks.
Working 80 hrs and getting
less than half of that
in sleep has made me into
somebody that I don't like.
I don't even care about
smoking *** anymore,
because I already
look like I'm ****** up.
So much for summer time,
and the beach.
Being an adult *****.
Really bad.
So if you're 17,
I probably hate you,
because I envy
that carefree ignorance
you carry.
Don't grow up.
Go find Peter Pan,
better learn how
to fly,
because
The breakfast club was
right after all.

When you grow up
*your heart dies

It's a thank you. I have never felt like I was good at anything until I began writing poetry about 2 years ago. I found this website and I visited every single day. Over time, with encouragement and practice, I feel like I have finally become the writer I want to be. Sadly I deleted my old account, but I couldn't leave. If you like the poems I write, have ever liked one of them, or shared it, thank you thank you thank you. My big dream is to one day publish the poems I write here. So it feels incredible to know that real people have super positive feed back.
Again, thank you for helping me fulfill my dream, and my heart.
~peace~

The other night
as we both lay in bed,
him in his underwear
and socks
reading quietly,
me, in *******
and his t-shirt,
I tried imagining
what it was like,
back when he was just
the cute boy who
worked with me at
Burger King.
And I almost couldn't,
because I've called him
mine for so long.
It made me smile.
Even though it's been
less than a year,
somehow we have already
formed a routine
that creates true happiness.

People throw around
the word 'legend'
too often these days.
Claiming that some
9 year old who can sing
on YouTube is as great
as the greats.
Unless they've really
done something that
had made a difference
for the better of humanity,
than, no,
I would never call them
a legend.

You know somebody
loves you,
when just the thought
of losing you
brings them to tears.

I have always
been able to get along
with people that
others can't.
The outcasts,
the freaks,
the losers,
the *******.
I have always been
able to see what
ordinary people don't.
Who they really are.
Everybody is a good person.
Some just have a hard
time expressing it.
Actually,
I fall in love with
those who are different.
And I love them for
the rest of my life.
Maybe it's because
I have always been
the weird one.
So I know what it
looks like inside
the soul of a person
that nobody understands.

I'm unhappy
even when
I'm happy.

Everybody asks,
Why don't you grow
out your hair?
And I just say,
I like it.

It reminds me of
who I used to be.
In a way,
it keeps me grounded
in a world full of
superficial women,
and money.

Grungy,
odd,
unique.

Whether you like the cut
or not,
it stands out in a room
full of girls with
hair down to their *****.

I'm not saying I'm special,
but it makes me feel that way.

It is 1:22 am
and I am at work.
Completely bored
out of my mind,
with nothing left to do.
I can hear the clock
ticking slowly.
There are 4 empty
desks around me.
Everybody else works
during the day.
I got locked out during
my smoke break,
and scared the ****
out of the only other
lady here.
when I peeked my head
through her window.

I have a bowl calling
my name at home.

I still have half an hour left.

I've seen more people
smile at seven in the
morning,
than I ever have
at night.
Apparently all the
happy people have
day jobs.

The guy who works
at Speedway,
bought my coffee
this morning.


What a wonderful way
to start off a Friday.

Now I'm even smiling.

Sometimes,
I desperately wish
I was single again.
Although it will
never be the way it
was last time.
Until I remember what
it's really like to
be single.
Every night is
either spent alone
or as the third wheel.
I never went without
****,
I stayed up all night,
listening to music,
either
getting ******,
or developing
a habit for drinking,
writing poems
about love.
I was single for almost
a year.
I was so adapt
to being alone,
that I forgot how
to talk to people.

I destroy myself
when I'm alone,
I thrive with
some one standing
beside me.

I hate this town.
I hate that I still
******' live here.

And now that it's
summer time,
I am constantly reminded
of him.
A boy that I was
head over heels
obsessed about,
out of nowhere.

Everybody asked me
what I was doing
with him,
and I could never think
of what to say.
But the bottom
of my heart
could only think,
I love you.

We connected,
we just got each other,
never pretending to be
anyone else.

I know every dark secret,
heart break,
suicide attempt,
because he told me.
We really knew each other.

And it was the scariest
thing on earth,
so I ran away,
and he disappeared.

I never told
him
that I  l o v e d  h i m .

I hate to only talk
about you,
when I'm sure you
wanna hear about me.
But, I can't ignore
that old familiar feeling,
just as the rain slows down,
and the right song
plays on the radio.
I swear,
it's like you're there
beside me.

Pause for a second,
and think about
us.
Now,
pick one of your
favorite memories.
Maybe it's the same one
that I'm about to share.
It was a perfect summer night,
just the two of us on the roof.
We had spent hours talking,
while your phone
played all the music
we fell in love to.
And then you pulled out your
guitar and asked,
Do you sing?
I was shy when you
began to play,
so you sang the first verse.
And then I joined in.
Soon,
you were just smiling
at me,
strumming all the
right notes as I
sang into the night.

I belong with you
you belong with me
in my sweet arms.

Afterward,
you kissed me and said,
beautiful.

I heard that song
on the radio tonight,
but it has never sounded
as good
as it did
when
you
loved
me.

I thought of you today.
I can't even describe
what it felt like.
It was as though
I saw you,
and we talked to
each other the way
we used to.
I felt like I did
when you loved me.
So I cried my
eyes out as
Lying eyes
by The Eagles played
while I drove home
with forgotten tears
in my eyes.
What I would give
to just simply
talk to you again,
is more then what I
could ever offer.

I'm just
trying to
hold onto
humility, in a
world full of
dress codes
and
drug tests.

As I pulled up
my heart immediately
remembered that
blue Bonaroo bandana,
and that old red car.
He was standing in front
of it,
with the hood up.
I knew he had to see me.
I'd be lying if I said
I didn't care,
when I didn't see his
face light up with a smile,
and his hand waving hello.
I didn't know that
this is how things are.
No longer greeting each other
with a smile, and
its been a long time.
What hurts the most,
is that he lied,
when he told me he'd
always care about me,
because now I am nothing
more than a stranger.
I guess he's just another
cigarette brand that
I can't smoke anymore.

It's nice to know
that he can sleep.
I can't.
I feel blown off.
I shouldn't be
sleeping alone.
He is supposed to
be cuddling me,
in his bed.
This whole day
is wrong.
I hate it.
I hate this.
I miss him.

When we're little,
we are told
over and over again
that the world isn't
fair and that people
will let you down.
Well, someone
left out the part
where your parents
end up disappointing
you as well.
They say that drugs
and alcohol ****
up your life,
but those things
can't miss your
band recital,
or tell you it's time
to get out of their house.
You can always overcome
an addiction,
but you can't always
overcome the heartbreak
left by the people you
looked up to most
as a child.

Some people never
click with their
parents.
Even after the
terrible teenage
stage ends.
Turns out I'm one
of those people.
I'm a hated stranger
in my own home.
And no matter how hard
I try to make my
parents happy,
it's never good enough.
Somewhere along the
way I became the
disappointment of
the family.
But their doubt
only makes me want
to work harder,
to prove them all
wrong.
I need to get out of here.

He thinks she is
**** when her eyes
are red and his t-shirt
hangs off her shoulders.
When her hair is messy,
from hours of smoking
and making love
under the sheets.
She is so beautiful
when she doesn't know.

I wrote a poem
about you,
but decided it
was garbage.
Instead of
just throwing
it away,
and letting you
sit with the trash,
I used it to
roll a joint and
watched as the words
I wrote about you
turned to ash.

I woke up crying.
This has never happened
before.
He was in my dreams
all night long.

Maybe it's because
change is on the horizon,
and a new start is
about to begin,
but I realized that
all I do is pity you.
When something doesn't
work out the way you
wanted,
you go right back
to your old ways,
as though it's actually
going to fix all
of your problems this time.
You can't be clean for
3 days and expect the
world to see you
differently.
It's a commitment.
To yourself,
to become a better
person.
If life *****,
then do something
about it.
I did.
So what's your
excuse.

Okay.
I'll admit it.
I miss my friends
and I miss being
young, and care free.
I miss cruising to
Nicki Minaj
and chilling at the park.
Watching the boys
fight in the back yard.
Smoking *** for hours,
and laughing together.
Those boys and girls
were the closest thing
to a family I ever had.
I miss the late night
parties in Joey's room,
all of us,
either drunk;
******,
or tripping,
but happy.
You can't buy happiness
like that.

I miss sitting in
a room with
my family.

Sometimes you
figure out why people
come into your life
and why they leave.
And then other times,
you never know.
We became toxic
to each other,
like a drug we couldn't
detox away,
no matter how hard
we try.
I still don't know why
he came into my life,
but I know why he left.
All I did was hurt him,
and all he did was hurt me.
Maybe it's better
this way.
Because when I hear
his name all I want
to do is throw up.

Maybe I secretly
end up setting my
expectations too
high,
because I always
wake up on
my birthday feeling
lonely and disappointed.
I just wish I could
feel special and important
for just one day.

Waking up
is so sweet
when I see you
there beside me.
When I feel your
hands discovering my
body and then pulling
me close.
The small sweet kisses
under the covers,
with your arms around
me,
makes for a really
good morning.

It's as though someone
tied bricks to my feet,
and threw me into
a pool.
I can see everything
dissapearing in front
of my eyes,
but I can't stop the
water from filling
my lungs.

I don't think it's fair
for my own parents
to make me feel this way.
Like all I am is
a disappointment that
***** up over and over.
My confidence is gone,
I go home expecting
something to be said
about what I did wrong
today.
And I am always right.
Even after I've been at work
all day long,
or gone at my boyfriend's,
somehow I'm ******* up.
They think that all I do
is shoot ****** into
my veins,
get blackout drunk,
spend all my money
on marijuana,
drive too fast
and ruin my life.
They don't believe me
when I tell them
it's not true.
But someday I'll prove
them all wrong.
Because my life is going
to be ******* amazing,
and I'm going to make it
happen all by myself.

I used to really believe
that you would always be
there waiting.
But now I know,
if the universe wanted
us to be together,
we would be by now.
We were meant to
meet,
to love,
to go through that
together.
But after all,
the brightest
stars burn out
the fastest.
You can't go back
in time,
and relive a memory.
My heart will always be
missing a little piece,
the one that I gave to you.
I hope you think of me
whenever you come
across Daft Punk
and Alt-J.
Whenever the stars
are out and the weather
is perfect.
When you are tripping,
and expanding your mind.
I will be there with you.
Peace, love and happiness
my friend.
In another life
we will be married.

We drove to work
together,
and went home
together.
But this time we got
to sleep in the
same bed.
We smoked a bowl
while we watched tv,
and then made
love under the covers.
I fell asleep to the
sound of his heart beat.
I wish I could wake up
like that every day,
it was like we were
married.
It was wonderful.

I don't see why
what I'm doing is
wrong.
I just want to be
alone.
I want to keep
to myself,
and do what makes
me happy.
It's not like I'm asking
for too much.
I'm tired of my parents
always being on my back,
especially when I don't
do anything wrong.
What do you want me to say?
I'm a **** up,
I'm going nowhere,
I'm a burnt out *** head,
You're right.
No matter what I do,
it's never good enough.
I guess I should expose
my boyfriend to them.
It has been 5 months.
But I know that they'll
hate him.
They'll judge him,
because he doesn't know
very much,
because he doesn't have
very much.
Yet, I love him.
But how do you tell
your parents they haven't
met your boyfriend
because they're rude
and judge mental.
Oh yeah,
you can't.

Do you really want me
to tell you all of
the things that
loiter in my mind?
His hands that were holding
me so tight,
his bad boy whisper
in the dark.

It is very simple
really.
Give your all to
someone,
and hope they do
the same.
Sometimes it's hard,
and temptation
is always two
steps away,
but treat your significant
other as you
want to be treated.
Give them all of
your wants,
needs and
desires.
And just L O V E