The Canal is frozen solid,
near by my car tempts fate with races.
In my last goodbye each "I" is dotted,
with broken hearts and sad faces.
It reads; "I'm never going to leave you,
my ghost can float along in your life.
While each moving noise will deceive you,
and I'll be bound to you as if your wife."

So you tore me up like an old receipt,
just another object you don't wish to keep,
but you can't return as I did not sell,
I should've seen down payment before I fell.
Do I even know you? I'd like to believe I once did,
A conclusion I drew, and from the beauty you hid.
It's more painful for me to ask,  than for you to have to hear,
I guess you switch up your new mask, at the start of each new year.

I feel so hollow inside my torn up chest,
to the point where I'm not sure which side my heart does rest.
Left or right, I just can't decide,
and it calls out silently, but the beats seem to hide.
For I still grasp at my clothes, I wish to forcefully pull each thread,
as the inner turmoil impose, on my already swollen head.
That is now flooding this page, an explanation to your fully aware mind,
I'm just past that blissful stage, that we could never really find.

Avery 3h

I wrote this a very long time ago and it wasn't originally a poem!  I just separated it into sections so it was in a more poem-like format.  I felt like it had emotion behind it, so I decided to post it.  Here's the "poem" -

It really hurts.  
It hurts like hell.  
It's hurts more than a thousand needles piercing my skin.  

It's a sinking feeling.  
A sinking feeling in my stomach, in my heart.  
I don't know what to believe anymore.  My mind tells me one thing and my heart tells another.  

I'm at war with myself, and I'm completely losing.  I've lost myself.  Utterly, and almost completely.  

I can smile, I can laugh.  But that's only when I forget.  And as soon as I remember, I'm knocked right back down again.  And no one seems to care.  No one cares enough to ask.  

Because, who cares about ME?  None of my friends, none of my family.  It's hell on Earth, because I know it's not their job to notice!  It's my job to tell them!  

But I'm petrified.  I'm scared I'll disappoint them.  Make them run away.  Make them think I'm weird.  Make them feel like I've gone crazy.  

Maybe that's it.  
Maybe I've gone completely crazy!
But who cares anymore?
Definitely not myself.

I really debated whether or not to post this, because I wrote it a very long time ago, but I felt like it had emotion behind it, so I'm posting it.  Love, Avery.
Avery 3h

I swear I was doing okay.
I was doing so much better.
I made a lot of progress.
I was almost happy.

I don't know what happened,
But something went wrong
Everything came crashing down,
And now I find myself gasping for breath

And I wish I knew when it had happened
But I stared losing my mind again
I'm falling apart and losing pieces of myself
And I don't know if I can find the pieces and put them back together again.

Just a quick poem.  Have a nice night, or a nice day, whenever you're reading this.  Much love, Avery.
Avery 3h

What would your seven-year old self say if
She saw you refusing your favorite kind of ice cream?
Because that ice cream has way too many calories,
What would your seven-year old self think if
You looked at her everyday and told her, 'you're fat'
Because that's what you do when you look in the miror everyday,
What would your seven-year old self think of you when she found out
You count every single calorie you eat
Because if you eat too many calories, you might get fat,
What if your seven-year old self found out that
You cry yourself to sleep every night
Because you can't release your emotions any other way,
How would your seven-year old self feel
If you called her horrid names everyday when you looked at her
Because that's what you do to yourself,
What if your seven-year old self asked you
Could you call me the same terrible names you call yourself everyday?
But no, you couldn't, so why do you call yourself these things?

Just getting my thoughts out.  Saw something that inspired me, so I wrote this.  I know it's not much of a poem, but I was just writing it to release emotions.

I want you to tell me why I cannot be happy.
I want you to tell me why I am surely tearful;
my body gives up and I become regretful.
I want you to tell me why the sky is blue
and why the wind makes me sorrowful.

I need you to listen to me for a bit.
I need you to listen to me and tell me why
my body gives up and I start to sigh.
I need you to tell me why the sky is blue
and why the wind makes me cry.

I want you to tell me why I cannot go on.
I need you to listen to me and share my song.
I want you and I need you more than ever.
I want you and I need you because I am torn.

written 4/23/17

Her name is Mercy and she says it like a joke,
she shows up when you're thirsty just to watch you choke.
Yes her name is Mercy and she seems almost like a star,
but she just wants to hurt me, she just lives to be a scar.

Her name is Mercy and she claims to be a saint,
she pushes just to see if you'll ever voice complaint.
Yes her name is Mercy and it's the most beautiful sound,
and what she claims to be is never truly found.

Her name is Mercy and she's stunning in your eyes,
but you always know the worst will be what she claims is a suprise.
Yes her name is Mercy and she lights up your life,
her eyes are flirty but her words are a knife.

The big green hill that overlooks the water
has never been grazed, never been touched
except for when my mind gets hazed
and the world stands still.
So when life seems to become gray,
I lull to the place where I can get my color back.
So as far as the moon when the brightness gleams,
I run for the hill and make no note on my pace.
Lying in the sunshine, moonlight, or under the clouds,
I know I can always count on that big green hill.
For when the world darkens and my life runs out of time,
I go to the place where I can make the time stand still.

originally written 4/10/17

His color is yellow; a faded yellow.
He wanted to win over everyone
who would promise his acceptance.
He wanted fame, fortune, foolish gold.
The poor boy; riddled with disdain.
So he lied to his rainbow friends
and kissed every woman he obsessed,
only to fade away in the background.
He rotted next to his yellow daisies;
awaiting his departure into the sun.

originally written 3/23/17

A fading fire dances and taunts her,
but when she gets near,
the fire disappears.
Hazardous vapors fill the air
suffocating her until she draws her final breath.
Gone is she too soon.

originally written 2/25/17

After a while, you forget the kisses shared.
It is as if they were barely even there.
And after some time, you forget the lips
and all the promises that from them slipped.

It's like forgetting your first taste of liquor
or forgetting the burning sensation.
It's like forgetting her perfect figure
or forgetting his sweet vocal modulation.

And in the blink of an eye
all the memories go down the drain
with sad sorrows and goodbyes
being the only things to remain.

originally written 2/8/17
Next page