Other people’s eyes hammering the brain’s sides
the invisibility I escaped from
turns again into my one and only way
Cause I’d prefer to smash my heart
than to absorb these eyes another time
Other people’s empty naked eyes
The softest thing,
the sound of
of a dry eye,
that slightest scratching sensation
of your lens against you lids,
Attempting to be break from normalcy
Learning there is much more for me to see
The process may hurt
But there is no progress without work
Trying to break my shell
and in the words i find
no comfort as i crawl
away to my demise
sad eyes glued to a device
no poem in months
no one seemed to notice
that i missed out on the fun
and that i had nowhere to run
tags and labels
hoping i'll be noticed
but my attempts come to no avail
and my imagination has gone stale
romance is bleak
i'm not sure what to say
care is obsolete
love is incomplete
music is all i'm good for
and that's not even enough
so i sit here on the floor
begging them to shut the door
well, since there is no end in sight
maybe i will end this here
if i may and if you might
turn away if this gives you fright
I am not the princess.
I've had a pea under my mattress for a while now,
But you've found no concern in that.
In fact, it's slowly been duplicated.
At first, only by a few,
Now there are hundreds of them,
Unconstrained by the confines of the bed.
But so long as there are peas,
You will argue them to fit.
So long as there are peas,
I will lie, uneasy,
Though I am no princess.
I want to be disturbed;
from this life.
Consciousness to time warp
like a fly is to honey.
Suspending no disbeliefs,
this place is too small of a world
These four walls
are too tall
to climb over
and too thick to punch through.
But ****** knuckles
and buckling knees
count for nothing
in the end
if you can still count your discomforts on one hand.
Do whatever makes you happy
(Must be pre-approved by society. Terms and conditions apply)
Here it comes again,
The feeling i had hoped i’d forget.
The hands in my brain, fingers twisting
pretzel knots out of memories,
squeezing out life juice and blood
like a butcher’s wash cloth.
I had really hoped i’d never feel
this feeling again, the feeling
of looking at something beautiful
from behind a glass.
Can you even see me anymore?
I realized the reason
for my discomfort around him
He's never really responded to me
When I have said something it's like
I've spoken to myself, like I'm invisible, like my words can't be heard.
It makes me feel insignificant.
I don't like it.
So, now I know why I don't like to talk around him,
to feel like the center of attention cause normally I'm not.
This is not a love poem. It's about feeling anxious around people and not being my true self in front of others.
I walked into your life an actress,
putting on a show for you,
miming who I thought I was
with lifeless limbs exerting so much effort,
nearly hollow did I feel,
typecast, merely trying to not collapse in front of you
like a miserable cutscene signaled too quick;
yes, it is most unfortunate
you fell in love with an actress
playing a role she didn’t know how to keep.
oh god I don't know when I wrote this but um, it's something