That time when I caught you staring at me,
you gave me butterflies,
but they frightened me,
so I jumped in front of your car
and threw them at your windshield as you came speeding towards me,
hoping that they might slow you down.

i wake up dealing with the Fog in my head
trying to decide if I should get out of bed
i wonder if a i have a life anymore
it seems that i have friends no more
it seems that what i say makes people sore
my thoughts are haunting me to the core
when i think of everything, i think of all
the echo of silence bounces off the walls

I'd rather be your fantasy because it's so much better than me.

You tell me to grow up
To stop being a child

That I am being weak
I don't actually hurt that bad

Well news flash:
I am a child
And I do hurt that bad

To make a poem is simple
All you need is

Nights of tears
A bit of blood
A lot of pain
A touch of peace
Heaps of feelings

All you need is

Pure exhaustion
Fear
Anger
Love
Sadness

All you need is

A whole load of
Emotion

Then when that explodes
Out of your body
You just need to somehow direct
All of it onto
A piece of paper

That's how you make poetry