Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Tatiana Mar 2013
Close your eyes
and wait till the city sleeps,
to scream out loud,
hit the panic button
then destruction starts,
pain and misery
are common sorts,
red flames of pain
and tear-less eyes,
why can't they see through your disguise,
lighting strikes when the moment is right,
burning away
with your demise.
I was searching through some old poems I wrote a couple of years ago, and I like this one so I thought i'd share it with you guys. :)
Tatiana Mar 2013
My piano is covered with papers,
my instruments covered with books,
I have notebooks on top of my drawing pads,
and pencils and pens covering my stories.
I have past assignments all over the floor,
and new ones spread across my bed,
my computer is always opened,
to type up another essay.
School is something I have to do,
and honestly I enjoy it,
except when it takes over my life,
and then I can not control it.
Tatiana Feb 2013
I think to myself,
a great deal of things
that weigh heavily on my mind
I can't seem to express
this feeling I have
and how deep within myself
it resonates
I feel like a small but important part of me
is dying on the inside
it's shriveling into nothingness
I find that i'm not angry
and i'm not scared
i'm just sad
and depressed
and this feeling
circles through my body
unrelenting against my emotional capacity
I passed my breaking point
a long time ago
but the sadness escalates
and spills over
flowing into others
and it spreads like wildfire
it just crushes me
to no end
and I can't cry
believe me i've tried
sometimes all I want
is to cry
but no tears will fall from my eyes
there would only be the strangled gasps
of someone who is sobbing
and i'm tired of it
i'm tired of being sad
but to me
it looks like
I won't stop being sad
and i've been thinking
for a long time now
about death,
and when I go
i'll hate that i'll leave everyone I love
behind
but to me
dying isn't a morbid thought
it's just life
and it must be accepted
as always
and when I go
whether I die young
or old
if I come to a natural end
or a not
life will go on
it's a never ending of cycle
of love and pain
a dangerous cycle
as I see it
there is so much in life to enjoy
and I know this
i'm aware
and I try not to be so absorbed in myself
so I can live
and pull out of this shell
that I have been rebuilding for months
but it's getting even harder to manage
I don't feel in control of myself
and the problems my family and I face
every single day
tears me apart
I miss the days when I was a little kid
yes i'm still young
and i'm techinically still a kid
however I feel older
this situation that i've been put in
forced me to grow up faster
not everyone has nieces and nephews when they're only twelve
and not everyone has to deal
with my irresponsible half brother who is in his twenties
and his girlfriend
who is the mother of these children
and not a good mother at all
she's cruel
just awful to these children
that's the reason one of my nephews lives with us
everything is just barely staying together
held as tight as a single thin thread can hold
and i'm the thread
I don't like the weight
and the tugging
and yanking
of the way everything is going
I feel like one day
i'll just collapse from it all
and the thread will snap
and I will fall to dizzying darkness
while the everything else
just spirals out of control
These have been my thoughts for the past month now, i'm not exactly the happiest person out there. Who knows how long i'll be here, I don't know if i'll stay here on HP much longer, some days it helps, and other days I just find myself frustrated beyond belief that I just can't keep up, or really read the poems how I want to read them. I find i don't have the time to write a comment or even leave a reply, I feel like i'm losing my love for everything that has to do with writing. Everything is just slowly falling apart... I'm sorry, I shouldn't have written all of this, but i've kept it in for too long now, and now i feel like a dam that has cracked and is ready to burst from the amount of pressure that has built up....
Tatiana Feb 2013
Little girl,
her eyes held the world
and everyone just adored her,
her mind was clear
and with every year,
she grew and grew and grew.
Slow down little girl,
don't grow up too soon
it's not as fun as it seems,
be a child
while you still can,
and enjoy the life you lead.
Slow down little girl,
trust me on this
you don't want to grow up too soon,
there are harsh realities
to everyday things,
that you thought were just dreams.
Little girl,
whose eyes once held the world
slowly started to dim,
as every year went by,
she started to see,
why she was always told
to slow down,
Because now the only voices heard
are the ones whispering,
"Welcome to reality."
Tatiana Feb 2013
Walk this way,
and sit down,
rest a little bit.
Have no fear,
you were meant to come here,
and listen to what I have
to say.
Just relax,
you're feeling will pass,
and darkness doesn't stay.
You're life is dear,
so keep it near,
always in reach,
when you lose your way.
Have some faith,
and you will last till the end,
through the troubles,
you'll encounter.
Hold your hope,
and keep it strong,
don't let yourself,
fall behind,
into the darkness,
that is your mind.
There is one way out,
of this depressing shadow,
and that I want you,
to know.
Just keep your head high,
and don't give up,
you laugh at me now,
saying your sadness
is profound,
but one day,
you will rise,
to a point in the sky,
where you will realize,
that I was right,
and that's when you have already,
moved on.
Tatiana Feb 2013
Shocking ends,
and brand new lies,
sit behind,
covered eyes.

Little tips,
and discolored lips,
strangely there,
in a discreet air.

Ticking clocks,
and mismatched socks,
unique ideas,
wrapped in tears.

Shaking hands,
and disheveled strands,
of long thin hair,
you're without an heir.

Strangled air,
and you're without a care,
that this lack of support,
is all you'll report.

And when you die,
you'll hear a lullaby,
of when lives tend,
to reach a shocking end.
Tatiana Feb 2013
Hateful eyes stare down,
a sinister lumbering figure,
that stalked through the darkness,
using the shadows for cover.
Stealthily he followed,
this dark figure,
through the dense undergrowth,
walking on thorns,
and not noticing,
as they dug deep into his feet,
red painting his footprints.
The sinister man in front of him stopped,
and turned to look behind him,
a sick twisted smile,
lighted the sinister man's face.
The man breathed in,
the scents of the bushes,
and pulled the trigger,
there was a soft thump,
of a body hitting the earth,
and a pool of blood,
soaked into the grass.
Laying in that pool,
was the sinister man,
the life gone from his eyes,
the man walked away,
feeling the rage disappear
and be replaced,
with guilt,
until he pulled the trigger once more,
and his mind went blank,
and there was another thump,
as another body,
hit the ground,
in the darkest hour,
just before dawn.
Next page