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Poems

WickedHope Nov 2014
People will look and see.

               I'm too fat for that.
       I'm covered in moles like polkadots.
               I have scars that aren't even a little ****.
       I have too many bones everywhere.
               I don't live up to my own expectations.
                       How could ever I live up to anyone else's?

  My body
     Isn't
   Worth
   Seeing
Words just appear, so I post them on occasion.
samasati Apr 2013
blue
the colour is always blue
when I want something
when Father won’t answer me
my pillow

my curtains, but they’re swept to the sides and the blinds are up
the sky is white
I’ve never seen the sky so white
it looks sick
the branches look violent, like they are deprived of attention
everything looks sick

that tree I can see, means so much to me
when I feel something, I pretend it is feeling the same thing
like impatient the other day, it must’ve been too
with no leaves come past springtime
it makes me blue

the colour is always blue
when I’m in love
blankets
sometimes my eyes
when I ask Father to dinner tonight or lunch tomorrow and he replies
“maybe Wednesday, not sure”
blue is the cover of the book of poetry I had written
and abandoned
blue is sadness
blue is the colour of giving up
sometimes hope

blue is the colour of people’s hair in my nightmares, when I get so frustrated their hair isn’t brown or blonde and I try so hard to change it,
it’s always going to be blue
and I wake up from thinking too much

most of my wardrobe
polkadots and stripes
shades on my canvases
I use blue
like it’s mine
like it’s me

my favourite colour is blue
it has always been blue