Hello my good friend, Darkness!
How have you been?
Me? Oh I've just been a mess.
Going back there time and time again.
Where you ask?
Oh I'm glad you did!
Its the bottom of a flask!
I know I know, God forbid.
I come here from time to time.
Just trying to find somewhere to put my mind.
It beats the pain and agony that puts me in a bind.
But its a better than being left behind.
Now I drink to forget the old!
To make way to new and better!
No this does not make me cold.
But it also does not put me off kilter.
Oh no, is it time for you to go?!
I'm sorry that you couldn't stay long.
Now don't be a stranger, you can always come say hello!
Because you'll always be there if something goes wrong.
Wish i could find the words without saying another bad word
to explain all the voices that my soul and brain have heard
some are a lie that caused me to cry
dealing with my problems, oh i sigh.
Built my walls too high, for no one can enter
that even i can’t reach in and fly in my main center
dealing with my demons, either if i am awake or dreamin’
i shouldn’t have believe them for they were very deceivin’
people think i’m flying through my life without feeling dying
they were all wrong for i have been trying
i see mirror here, mirror there, which one can i look at and stare
they’ve been my enemy lately, that i can’t love myself completely
i look at her, and it’s such a blur
i know it’s just a reflection but my mind sees all imperfection. compliments of perfection doesn’t help me find my direction.
in my eyes i see my true complexion
but i choose to believe my beauty is base on perception.
i still have to learn that i am worth
every living cell on this earth
that outside appearance doesn’t matter
but what’s inside is so much better.
poetry is hard
everybody wants to read
your most personal thoughts
the only success you'll see
is when you paint your heart across the page
and pour your soul into pressing that simple "save"
my voice seems worthless until I spill my secrets for the world to see
but what if I want to keep secrets to myself
and let the world see what it thinks it wants
let me write soppy stories of summer days
or mornings filled with cliched coffee cups
loaded with the "real" problems every poet apparently has
the real Problem is that everybody has a problem with not having problems
why can't we be happy having perfect lives
instead, I have to pretend I have problems
when all I really have is the standard stress that comes with being young
The closest thing I have to a real problem is the parabola on my worksheet and the other math problems beyond it
I'm no different from any other aspiring author
wanting recognition for lying
and imagining problems into existence
because no story exists without conflict
and no peace exists with problems
so we have a bit of a perfect problem paradox
My mom was my mentor.
She helped me with my problems.
Although I stopped telling her my problems.
Because I was embarrassed and scared that I would disappoint her.
And so I act strong around the house.
But everywhere else
I always slouch
Because whenever I'm at home
It feels although I carried the weight of the world
Remember when you said people lose people.
Well..... I'm ready to lose you.
Ok... I'm not holding you back.
( I wish you could see my face when you sent me that message. I wish you could see me die when I realized you were right. We weren't meant to be and we were holding on to something that will never happen. It was just a hope, a beg. It was just a dream.......)
The growing number of recorded refugees in this world.
Refugees are like you and me,
All they want is to be free,
Freedom that can only be found through at the assistance of helping hand,
And not a shooting gun taking away land.
Children crying in their sleep,
Parents dying as they weep,
Running across a land,
Trying to find a place
That's safe and secure,
Where the air and the water and the people
A nation fallen to its knees,
As the elderly wheeze,
The unwell and sickened sneeze,
Parents utter the word please,
As they salvage all the food that they can seize.
A boat soars through the crashing grey waves,
As everyone prays.
This boat is the last spark of hope,
A single spark of hope left in the piles of fallen dark ashes.
The single star sparkling in the dark pit known as the sky.
My throat tangles in a knot,
The last bullet is fired,
I think of everyone that’s been shot,
this is the opposite of what I desired.
Don’t be so blind,
To not even care upon mankind.
When you eat others starve,
Open your eyes,
We are all allies,
When someones dies,
When someone cries,
Instead reach out and extend a helping hand,
Prove that humankind is still kind,
And not a myth made up in our mind.
Reach out and extend a helping hand.
I tried to make it easy for myself. To give it up. I used to sit around pick at my food, and wonder how many pounds I would need to lose. I had a goal set in my mind. I wasn't ready to stop. It was becoming my time. All the constant compliments on my weight, didn't care if I saw the light of day, as long I was skinny, I was happy. I was pretty.
Now the world's a pretty fucked up place. But when you have BDD you think you're a disgrace. I pushed and pulled and tried to mold my body, into something I wasn't. That's not even the shitty part. I used to take the pills, chug the water. Was ashamed to call myself my parent's daughter. I was praying for something to come. And while it seems real dumb because according to you I'm pretty, I don't see what you see. Me calling myself fat wasn't for attention. It was a call for help. I just wanted to mention that starving yourself won't get the job done, and if you think it will, it'll harm you a ton. So please stay beautiful the way you are. And don't lose that precious beat in your heart. You're the only you there'll ever be. I love you for you. I just don't love me for me.
I need some therapy
It has been hell for me
I'm still here
Counting my blessings
Hoping they rescue me
Where do I go from here
Am I less of me
Doctor say something
Please just talk to me
You need help and I'll help you
Time for some therapy
I feel like a pawn
I want to be a king piece
The problem I have
Is someone is still playing me
Folding me at every crease
How many steps do I go
Let my soul rest at ease
How did I end up here
Standing or on my knees
I see that you have a problem
Time for some therapy
This is session three
I don't feel any better
Every problem I fix
One just cones around the corner
I don't know why the pester
How am I getting by
I feel like this is a letter
One eye open one eye closed
Now this seems like a jester
Am I trapped in a closet
With a jacket or sweater
And it keeps getting hotter
Regardless of temperature or weather
I know this is a rant I am going off tangent
But this word we call pain i cannot even imagine
- silence breaks in the room -
The doctor smiles stands up and walks to the door and opens it.
I see that you know the problem
Time for some therapy
All the people
You're not reaching.
All the people
Who don't accept you.
All the people
Who ACT as if they like you,
But don't actually
Have any formal contact with you.
You influence SOME people.
Concentrate on empowering
And forget about