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Apr 2019 · 263
Writing is my peace
Writing seems safer, I feel
Because letters looped together
can flow so fluently through pens,
not speech though.
They can stand their *******
grounds when my legs give way
And words written down don’t
get stuck in my hand like they
do in my throat.
They can can’t stutter and stumble
like my tongue when I try to
stable my breath.
No one can tell if I’m laughing
or crying through written words alone.
Jun 2018 · 3.1k
Little Things
Be grateful for even the little things in life that as people we just seem to overlook. Ya know after all you were able to wake up, get up, take a deep breathe and feel that cool breeze hitting your face. Taking in all your surroundings. Enjoying the sun rays hitting your skin, or that cold glass of water you drink that makes you feel so good because you feel that coolness throughout your body. Always remember to smile because smiling is what relaxes your whole face and happens to change your mood.
Jun 2018 · 3.6k
The Garden
After many years of watering myself
I became a garden overtime.
A beautiful garden with colorful flowers.
After realizing the beauty I opened myself up to the public.
Allowing myself to be seen for the true beauty beyond the garden.
As soon as the gate opened not only did you  admire me, but you stepped on all the fresh grass and picked out my flowers for your own pleasure.
I allowed you to do all this and still tried to figure out how to love all the destruction you caused after you left.
Jan 2018 · 852
February Love pt. 2
Falling in love is so scary, but you
taught me to let go and let love in.
The love you show me is the best feeling.
Your warm hand touching my face makes me
feel peace.
I close my eyes and my mind goes blank and all
my problems float away.
You know how people say a picture is worth a thousand words;
well that one touch says it all.
I truly didn't think I knew what love was, but you showed me
a deep unconditional love. You taught me that love and relationships
aren't easy they're hard work.
To me you are perfect and I just know you were perfectly sculpted
and created for me. I can see it when I look you in the eyes.
old poem i wrote  about the man i thought was the love of my life.
Jan 2018 · 276
Grateful Thoughts.
Why waste time dwelling on stuff?
I mean really think about it.
It's time we enjoy the little things
in life.
Wake up and appreciate everything
and everyone.
Even if it's the simple drinking of
magnificent water.
Jan 2018 · 445
February Love
This feeling is like no other.
You truly are the love of my life.
Sleeping next to you makes me feel safe.
Your kisses still give me butterflies.
One look at you and I just know I was meant
to be here with you and nowhere else.
This love is unreal. This is how love feels?
Love is a beautiful thing.
i wrote this at the top of my head so sorry if it's not that great.
Mar 2017 · 525
Don't Be Afraid
I was a flower who was too afraid to bloom. Fearing my petals weren't beautiful or colorful enough for the garden.
Feb 2017 · 433
United
Sisters what are you doing?
Fighting.
Shaming.
Competing with each other.
Exchanging ***** looks.
We are in this together we should not be tearing each other apart, but building each other up.
Dec 2015 · 10.5k
Stereotypes
I’m tired of the typical questions.
No my dad doesn't mow lawns and yes I have papers.
Nothing I do seems to change the fact
that I’m bound to my skin color because of stereotypes.
“Mexicans are only good for mowing lawns”
Therefore, I am worthless.
I am a forest and stereotypes are the fire;
they burn me away until there is nothing left.
Sep 2015 · 1.4k
Yellow(:
Not even the stars can
compare to her natural
beauty.
She is as beautiful as a
single small flower growing
within the cracks of the
lonely sidewalk.
Her every flaw formed
such a gorgeous sight that
If you knew her you’d know she
was like a dimmed star that can create an entire galaxy.
If she was a color she would be yellow.
So bright that you couldn’t stop
from smiling uncontrollably.
You see the color yellow is a happy
color and that’s what she is; yellow.
Mar 2015 · 6.3k
Dear Enemy,
All was good 'till you came
along, we've had our differences.
I refuse to build a house
of cards with you if you
keep knocking it down.
Because the more you
knock it down I stupidly
start to rebuild it.
I give up being the
only one actually trying,
you can continue knocking
it down but I refuse to rebuild it.
Mar 2015 · 672
Untitled
The air I breath is toxic

no where to escape,

trapped.

Your words are bullets

they’re coming directly at me.

I’m not made of steel they’re 
going through me.

The way I feel is indescribable

So I pick up the pen and

write because what I have 
to say is stuck in my throat but 
not in my pen.
Mar 2015 · 1.2k
Fall Memory
There's just something about Fall.
Trees become naked and leaves
changing colors, it's just beautiful.
Perfect weather to wander
around the city and admire
my surroundings.
Feeling inspired and closing my
eyes and taking a deep breath
and inhaling all the fresh air.
Somehow remembering that
perfect moment with him
we walked around a Creek
and well long story short
he asked to kiss me and we
did. Talk about perfect timing,
the sun was going down and
the skies were pink with cotton
candy clouds. He's long gone
now, but he still creeps up on my mind once in a while.
Mar 2015 · 364
Trying to live
Lately she's felt empty,
raw emotions.
The only thing that made
her feel alive were the
razors pressed ******* her skin.
She then knew that very
second she wasn't as dead
as she felt.
Mar 2015 · 878
Living Dead
Maybe I like the pain
I cause myself, the
scars left behind are what
bother me.
My soul is what someone
would call "desolation"
I'm empty but living
with emotions that really
mean nothing.
Sometimes I don't know
what to do with all this
gloom.
At times I get so tired
of not feeling anything and the
only way to feel is to cut.
Mar 2015 · 260
Broken
She's holding so much inside,
feeling like a broken porcelain doll
every time she walks in the
halls she feels like she's forgotten how to breath, walking slowly trying to take it all in and feel better, sitting alone randomly crying for no reason not knowing why she's been so emotional.
Mar 2015 · 997
Prisoner
I use to tell myself that my body was a canvas.
I would leave marks,
And when I was done I'd feel release.

My body is paper with writing on it
I've tried erasing for months but
the writing is still there.
No matter how hard I try
to erase i'm stuck with stories
I don't want to remember.

— The End —