Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aaron Apr 11
Here, have a dime,
My two cents by Five:
You're not that sublime
When it comes to being alive.

You slam some door and claim your might;
Not impressed by how you've dared
To shut the doors and scream to fight;
You're the kid that's truly scared

Of all the things you can't control,
All the things you'll never know;
Not fear nor anger will fill that hole;
Even roots must break dirt to grow.

You're stuffed in far too small a space;
Cramped wings find no room to fly;
Sometimes I wish you'd have the grace
To just let go and simply cry.

So much lost in the fear of being wrong;
A self-fulfilling prophecy in every song, when in point of fact:
There's more to life than being strong;
Your inner child's got a cataract.

You're the match that sets yourself aflame,
Because somedays you still need to feel;
Anything less would be far too tame
In this search for something real.

All I know of timeless wealth
Is how to give a loving hand;
We have to be the one to see ourself, but
By your side I Truly stand.

To speak of what's true:
If every fear is just projection
Then if I am to question you
Surely I speak to my own reflection.
Aaron Feb 21
So this is what inspiration feels like:
When it's come time to take a hike,
And every fork is a new road to take
Every choice is another path to make
Every word is another leaf to rake
Every thought is free -
What a wonderful gift for me.

The mind is strong, so
No thoughts are wrong
Or out of place;
Fear bites no grace.

To those who choose just love:
Your light outshines the dove;
'Cos for all that you may know,
You still make room for worlds to grow.
Aaron Feb 18
Perhaps I struggle to find the phrase
To set the strands of your soul ablaze
Because when I look at you, I gaze
Into something so much more

How could any worldly rhythm
Though surely bright and strong
Dare dream define such a prism?
You are more than form; you’re song

You are the sound of the galaxy
Dancing through the sky
I dreamed of such a fantasy
And yet you dreamed of I.

No words, no song, no rhyme
Nor thought, nor dream, nor time
Could ever be enough.

You are my beautiful impossibility,
My miracle, my spiritual key;
You are my partner and my very best friend,
And I walk with you without end.
Aaron Feb 18
Swear you’ll hold her tight
From sounds that screech,
And all the things that try to reach
Corrosive claws for her thoughts at night.

She may not be able to express
The demons she faces when she dares,
So never tell her no one cares;
Just love her and she won’t repress.

She’s stronger than she’ll ever know, so
Don’t try to be just her hero;
Be the place she’s safe at zero,
And watch what wonders love will show.
Aaron Feb 18
This is just another perspective
given form by conscious centrality, or
Perhaps I’m too introspective.

From young we learn to seek directive, and
to live with a certain frugality,
But this is just another perspective.

An unmoved pen is too corrective;
The hand hesitates for fear of banality;
Or perhaps I’m too introspective.

Life, as poetry, is connective;
Embrace the paradox of each duality; but
This is just another perspective.

I dream to love the imperfective,
Because we’re all an abnormality;
Perhaps I’m too introspective.

What if we stop trying to be corrective,
And instead embrace individuality?
This is just another perspective,
Or perhaps I’m too introspective.
Aaron Feb 18
Here's a poet's plight:
To force words to come is a fight;
Gorgeous nothings hold no light;
Meaning shall not bow to might.

Thirty thousand words or more –
All just sounds heard before;
But somewhere deeper there's a door,
A certain feeling from some core.

Or, in clearer words:
I have nothing Great to say,
but That shouldn't stop me anyway
From speaking when I feel I must;
No other way to reverse this rust.

Perfection is a savage
Curse to ravage the mind
'Round and round in circles, growing blind.

But of all the stones and stars
Or overpriced, shiny cars
The greatest gift of all you give
Is that you let me gently live.

You accept me as I am,
Tarred and scarred and marred with gray,
There's a thousand whispers, but they're all okay
When they won't be judged anyway.

There's this frustrating little tic
Where no words can quite click
Because no lovely language can compress
or stress enough meaning into a tiny little space
That could give a hint of a trace
Of the meaning that was felt.

Suffice to say it seems somehow insufficient,
Nothing Great, simply true:
You're wonderful as you.
Olivia Daniels May 2018
I can’t get my brain
To shut the hell up.

I don’t want to talk right now. please leave me alone. it isn’t you i
  promise, it’s me and
N othing can stop me from thinking that it’s my fault and
  everything is my fault. why are things this way and why did i
  lose you and my friends? i can’t help but think and
F eel depressed because i love you. i don’t want to lose you but i
  have and i’m not happy, i’m almost never happy anymore. or
  maybe i never was. emotions exhaust me but they’re all i know. i
  don’t usually get angry but when i do i go off and
J ust shut up! you’re wrong, i’m right. why can’t you see that? i
  need structure, it’s how i function and you are so incredibly
  unpredictable which excites me, even if no one knows, because
  that’s risky and i like new adventures but i need stability which
  my life, my existence, can’t provide

because i’m too complicated to make sense,
My life is contradictory
I took the MBTI test and got INFJ which help me understand so much more about myself then I ever have before. I highly recommend it to everyone, as long as you answer honestly, it's good to help you understand yourself
J B Moore Jul 2016
I've never been good at opening up
In fact only one has ever really gotten me to
But she's no longer here, she has gone away
Leaving me behind to feel so afraid.

I'm a thinker in mind and a writer at heart
A lover and a fighter which can tear me apart
I'll fight for the one I love, I'll never let her go
If I could just find her so she could just know.

I don't like opening up, in fact it's very hard
I start to get defensive, I want to run far,
I feel a little barbaric like a rampant ape,
Who only wants to have the chance of a great escape.

If I do open up I'm afraid of what you'll find.
It's a mysterious place, this thing we call my mind,
Filled with a wild and crazy imagination,
Bizzarre concoctions of my own creation.

I do love creating a world of my own,
Where I can make everyone happy and never be alone.
But this can never happen, at least not in this life,
Just look around at all the people suffering in strife.

I want to help them, the mute crying out,
"I can hear you" I want to say but then I find doubt,
What if they don't want me, what if I'm no good,
I feel the want to help, now if only I would.

But that would require something from me I don't possess,
A great self-confidence especially when under stress.
I have found that under pressure I can work well,
Though not until it's over can I ever really tell.

The problem I have with letting others look inside,
Is that I've gotten so good at wanting to hide
I've fooled myself into thinking I'm strange
And fearing every attempt I make at change.

Oh and change is deffinitely by far the worst
It is the thing which I was afraid of first.
But of course I know the strengths that come from it
Then again, if it was that simple I'd have already done it.

I guess the problem with opening up, 
with saying who I am,
Is what if they don't like me?
What if they don't want to understand?

I can be so confusing, I barely know myself,
I sometimes have to ask someone else for help,
Of course that's not my choice but only when they ask 
And only ever then do I dare take off my mask.

Maybe that's the missing link I've been looking for,
Maybe that's the key to opening my door.
 A key that I can never turn by myself,
Maybe the door will only open if opened by someone else.

Madeline Kapinos Feb 2015
Highly intellectual but
score lower than expected on
standardized tests
Fascinated with the world
Plan maker and
Frighteningly unemotional and seemingly moves on from devastating events rapidly
Acts self absorbed but
truly cares for people under the cold exterior
Often feels detached from the world
Unable to articulate great idea and thoughts exactly
Loves to argue and debate
for learning sake but
some don’t see it as
friendly banter
Called the mad scientist without
An absent-minded wonderfully built learner,

— The End —