You litter my soul with your lonely heart
But each time I fall for you, you tear me apart.
Yet still I praise and compliment and smile
Pretending that I am able to wait for a while.
But how long until you are ready?
It doesn't matter-
I'll wait forever.

do you remember capital letters?
the upper case that i seldom use?
remember how i used to use them?
if you scroll through my poems you will see that i did.
but then you happened.
you didn't steal them from me
but capital letters indicate strength
and because of you
i am weak.

and then you were gone.
you rushed into my past,
tearing through my heart as you went.
you littered my soul with the shreds of love,
each one piercing me
with such force that i swear
the world ripped open.
now there is a rift inside me-
you forgot to close it when you rushed into my past.
it's pulling me in,
i'm folding in on myself baby.
i'm imploding.
maybe this is how it was always meant to end:
not with an explosion;
i didn't go out with a bang
or even a light.
i ended with an implosion.
how pathetic.

thank you
to the stranger at the station
who wished me a good day.
to the teacher who said
'i always knew you could do it'
and the one who helped me say
'goodbye' to my low self esteem.
to the sad girl with the blog
who reassured me i was not alone.
to the woman who made me
laugh and always listened
and proved that there is hope.
to the two who are always there for me:
the girl who taught me
how to live
and the boy who showed me
what true friendship really is.
to the aunt who told me
'it's okay to be you'
and the grandmother who demonstrated
how to always stay strong
and how to thine own self be true.
to the little girl with bright blue eyes
who spoke to me when i was
so alone.
you all saved my life.
thank you for being the best people
i have ever known.

Shadows tickle my feet
Thunderous sounds
Scratch and screech
Along the hardened walls of my
beat,
beat,
beating heart.
From the start,
I've been quiet and set apart
I take solace in the silence
But with this art --
With this pen!
I begin to make amends
To my wounded sins.

I find strength in words
And courage in rhymes
I can spit it in an instant
Or write it out in time.
One, two, three times
I scratch out and
Re-scribble every line
Until it's perfectly aligned
A beautiful design
By a beautiful mind
Nothing more,
Nothing less.

One of a kind.

We don't write the way adults do.
Not in limericks,
perfect lines,
perfect rhymes.
We don't sign our names
but let our initials be our recognition.
We don't write about all the lovely things.
We write with raw emotion.
Translating our sorrows into syllables,
putting our pain on paper,
hardships and hopes of death.
The limits of our society
we see through fresh eyes
that have endured tribulations
far too young.
perfection isn't our aim so
we don't let the rules confine us
because our poetry is free.
//P.T.