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Steven Forrester Aug 2016
I see beauty in her face
Eyes glistening
Full of grace
Shyness apparent
In time and space
This life or a variant
There's no time to waste
Everything is in flux
Rocking my core
I want a taste
Of what
I'm not sure
My hearts are beating
Pulsing
Pure
In your eyes
I watch as a star is born
The magnitude
Of your gaze
So much larger
Than my box
We close the door
Wave good bye to the past
But this is no end
My friend
Let the adventure begin.
Inspired by "Doctor Who"
CastorPolydeuces Aug 2016
I don't know who I am.
And I know I never have.
For some reason its hitting me harder than before,
or at least from what I remember.
I remember it being bad when my mom was a wreck
and I, a strictly A student, received my first F.
I remember it being bad when my first step dad left,
and the weird assurances he made that he wouldn't abandon me.
I never thought he would, until he tried to reassure me.
But the earliest memory I have of not knowing myself, of it being bad,
was when I was little, in court, because my dad wanted to adopt me,
and a man I'd never met wouldn't let him.
I was young, and I realized I didn't know who I was.
I was 12 and I didn't know who I was.
I was 16 and I didn't know who I was.
Now I'm 20 and I don't know who I am.
My mom was 36, and didn't know who she was.
I'm writing this as documentation.
A thought taken down, so as not to be forgotten.
All sorts of people talk about forgetting who they are,
and finding themselves again.
I want my future self to know, that as of yet,
I've never known who I was.
I'm only posting this publicly because if anyone has any clue how to figure this **** out, I'd like to know.
It's that time of day,
Where all of your sound starts to decay,

What is it with being right,
When there will always be a handful to write,

Who will tell us that this piece is perfect,
Why do we need to understand if it is correct,

How is it that we just stop,
Hushing onto the last testaments spinning on the top.
It seems it is really rude to just stop talking, especially when you do it back, the demons come out, and you are left with the twin barrels loaded and the tips of your bones pulling softly to whisper goodnight.
Viseract Jul 2016
Looked at the mirror
Who are you?
Someone I don't understand
Why did you follow me?

The only one constantly by my side
The others come and go
But I was always there for me
Although I didn't always help

I expected others to help me
But only I was there for me
When all you get is called ugly
Stupid, and such, it's easy to see

But I turned on myself
I ripped my flesh apart
I tortured myself with nightmares of dead "friends"
For an entire year I tortured myself

All to prove that I cannot always be there
For my friends
All to prove
That I cannot protect those I cherish most

I can't even understand myself
So I look in the mirror
Into those hazel eyes
Who are you
Who am I?
Who am I?
Who I am
I am who?
I am who I am

My name matters not
till it matters to you
I love you
won't you love me too?
Marjorie Jeanne Jul 2016
In this world full of mysteries
Even I myself, belong

I dont know who am i anymore
I dont know what to do with my life
I dont know where will my future go
I dont know when will i be happy
I dont know why is this happening

Hoping to get some answers soon
So my soul can find peace and happiness
While staring under the moon
Chameleon Jul 2016
I will always be an emotional *******.
A hopeless romantic, no matter how many times I've been terribly let down by the men in my life.
An adventurous soul that longs for the open road because I grew up in the Midwest where people don't leave. They just go to high school, maybe college, have babies and get married by 21.
Selfishly independent, because I've never really had anyone take care of me the way I needed.
A writer, because I'm a coward who can't correctly say what I feel.

"We are who we are."

I'm still trying to figure out how to like who I am.
Maximus Tamo Jul 2016
Two good men made their dwelling,
Each was young and had worked much,

Both had much to enjoy,
But neither could partake in joy,

These men could only see one goal,
Their lives were devoted to others,

One sole purpose to die for another,
And give the greatest gift they could,

But the question is dear reader,
Who Is The Bigger Fool???

The man who gave his life immediately,
Selflessly sacrificing himself upon opportunity,

Not seeking fame,
Nor pursuing thanks,

Not waiting for a "good enough" reason,
Not selecting someone "worthy" of him,

Or the man who waits until he is old,
Watching  for a prime opportunity,

Wanting to give a greater gift,
Refraining from saving him soon to die,

Rather saving a child from early death,
Or someone desperately in need,

He can show the world,
How selflessness can be righteous,

But he must suffer long,
In his constant search,
taia Jul 2016
i always wanted to believe in the goodness of people.
i always sought to find the light at the end of the tunnel.
i always strived to go above and beyond to make others happy.

but what was it all for?
in trying so hard to help everyone else,
i lost myself in the process.
who am i anymore?
i don't know my soul.

this person, this being, i don't know myself!
it was so frightening.
i'm trying to regain a sense of self awareness,
to find out who the **** i am.

but until then,
until i find every piece of the scavenger hunt,
please be patient with me.
i need some time for self discovery.
i don't know who i am anymore. it makes it very difficult to write.
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