I miss you
backspace
I still think about you
backspace
I'm sorry
backspace
I love you
backspace
backspace
backspace
hi
enter

-eleven­

Have I ever told you that I love the sound of you typing?
The way your fingers move fast,
The way they hit a key at an exact moment,
The way they sound like the undertow of your life story of a symphony,
The click-clicks the sound of rain hitting my window on nights i miss you.

Every finger has a story.
Every key born to tell it.

Watching the way your eyes move along with the screen, you never had to look down.
Watching the way your hair would start to fall like a delicate fabric made of silk.
Watching the way you bite your lip because the good part is coming and it’s the big one.

You are a dictionary.
An arsenal of machine gun words
A pile of freshly pressed paper
An array of typewriter fonts
A piece of paper of the words you don’t know.

You are an endless cycle of words i would read correctly.
You are the thuds of thunder that i’m not scared of.
You are the taps of lyrics and poems.
You are an everlasting arrangement of clicks,

And I, I could listen for hours.

tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap
Shhhhhhhhhhh
drop your pen and drink your inks
stop your words from polluting
the clean slate minds of the youth
let them memorize the ancient rules
This world can't read what you're writing
Arrange a funeral and bury your thinking
Make it quick and be silent
Don't let them know that you're different
You can write? Good for you.
Now go and hide, or else they'll come here too.
tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap
Shhhhhhhhhhh
How dare you write
against the tides
about your views
about the lies
about the news
and prostitutes
and ****** abuse?
This world is cruel,
don't overthrow
the rule of men
who can only write
tap-tap* about women rights,
tap-tap and the social issues,
tap-tap and the silent taboos,
tap-tap  and the rich and the poor,
tap-tap and about the schools
which are producing  
brain-washed fools.
tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap
Shhhhhhhhhhh
Don't you know? They heard you too
Run for your life, they're chasing you
To erase your words
and silence your voice
To suffocate you
In your own mind
tap-tap, tap-tap
You're still standing here, asking me why?*
Well, you're a threat
to what they possess
the power above all
the power to play god
to decide how we'll live
and where and why
and decide how we are going die.
You're still too young, you haven't seen
How they hide behind the walls
of their own fragile masculinity
and show their strength to scare you away
Ironic how it reflects their own image.
tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap
Shhhhhhhhhhh
Now here they are, calling you names
with ***** meanings that they have made
They're pulling you down,
dragging you around,
making sure you'll never make a sound.
tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap,tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap
Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
I know
I know
Oh, I know
How hard it is
to suffer all this
a punishment
of their own ****** sins
It makes me wonder
if they even will
punish the angels
on the last day
for writing
down
their *****
*****
mistakes.

Can someone show me the verse in the bible where it says type "amen" and God will bless you?

Because I'm pounding the hell out of my laptop keys,

But yet, I'm still here staring blankly at my screen.

And I'm still sitting here suffering.

I'm still here day after day drawing the short end of the stick.

I'm still losing.
I'm still hurting.
I'm still trying.

But no matter what I'm going through,

I'm still, for some reason or another,

Typing "amen."

I wallow in my sleepless nights,
Typing away on this keyboard,
Sometimes it feels more like a page,
From my notebook from those high school days.

Where I would draw unend, ignoring science my best friend,
Fill up the pages with shapes and letters,
Where the lines define the universe,
Where people and stick beings intertwine,
With dancing letters some bold, some shy,
Lettering was also caught in my, little web,
Where a monkey does what a monkey sees,
Where limitless was just a level three,
My ninety nine was at a killing spree,
Then they soon forget as in time degrees,
Where fate was faked in an autopsy,
I guess that is what teenagers be,
A pack of animals, learning to be,
Human, again and again, I see.

Nobody seems to like my poems
although I fill them with the pain that
circulates from my head to my toes.
Expressing emotion is so hard to do
yet people expect that it's a simple trick
a thought come to mind, either a hit or a miss.
But it's so much more you see, the horrors
locked away in the depths of your soul
written down on a page for the public to see,
a way to vent those nights you spent in the
dark. What's the point of creativity if it cannot
be shared, if those around you don't find meaning from
all the time that you spend, hidden away behind a screen
broken down and typing the thoughts you have stored for
years. Though this poem might rhyme little, I hope that
you see that I'm just a girl behind a computer screen, hoping
to find someone like me.

Hands of rugged mysteries
typing letters    fast
counting down the minutes
time is standing still
  creating distant fantasies
within a neverland
knowing I will not fulfill
dreams and wishes   true

money spent
buying smiles
approval, but demise
for paper only melts in fire
souls go somewhere else

what is worth
effort
daily
for only
bones will
endure

confusion overcomes me
I'm at a loss
tossing money
wasting life
sitting in this cube
typing