Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
  Jun 2014 Renee
Aoife Teese
you've got me sitting
alone
in my room
listening to the music you like
trying to figure you out
trying to decide if you like me
if you want me

my mother says
"he probably doesn't know either"

and i'm frustrated
because someone has to
someone has to understand
and i don't
and i have to
i have to understand
you're a puzzle i can't solve
is this something i'm doing to myself?
nothing is as analytical as i need it to be
your tones of gray are confusing me
and i can't find a way to organize
the things you say to me

but to say i don't enjoy the task
would be a lie
because it does, in fact,
make me feel alive
i want you to want me,
that's very true
but it won't be easy
to convince me
that it's okay to want you
i am complicated//i am dumb
Renee Jun 2014
when I feel sad or bad or hopeless
my first thought is that
it could be worse.
and I don't mean african children
cause I'm not talking about physical problems.
I mean my friends.
I feel sad and lost:
at least I don't think
I'm on a roller coaster that only goes down.
I feel alone:
at least I talk to
more than two people.
I feel confused:
at least my wrists are bare,
my family is together and calm,
my school isn't hell on earth.
I don't have a boyfriend:
at least he didn't kiss and throw me away,
at least he didn't ruin my life,
at least he didn't break my heart.
At least I am not as insecure as he and she are,
at least my mind isn't a puzzle,
at least the letters on a page make sense.
I have not lost my passion,
been pushed around by those called "friends",
dumped with an invitation in the air,
given up all hope for this universe.
I don't think its all pointless,
I haven't gotten told a define no.
I look around and I tell myself the selfish encouragement:
It could be worse
Renee May 2014
so I am still a child,
I know.
They tell me everyday.
why don't I follow the unspoken rules
there can only be one way.
so what
the copper colored glasses
so what
the blue-tinted smoke over pale faces.
so what
we grow up.
and the pictures on the wall
scream that this is the only way
that it is ever done.

— The End —