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1d · 45
Untitled
Do you remember
When things were simple?
1d · 89
The Voice
Hello, guys.
I got a question for you:
What do I sound like?
To you, of course.
I mean, you’ve never heard me.
But when I read ANYTHING
I read it in a voice
Because I am picturing their voice.
I want to know what I sound like.
To you.
I want to know if you’re correct.
I want to know if you hear me.
This...is...the..Voice! (Voice, voice...) Not actually though. If you hear a voice, or even an inkling of an assumption of what I sound like, I want to know. Actually.     You can tell me. I mean, we have messages and comments. Cuz I want to know.
So
I put up walls.
I guess we all do.
To block out the wind and rain.
But I put up a house,
Wrapped in chains
All boarded up and stuff.
This is my mind.
I live there.
In my mind/house
I love painting.
I paint wonderful masterpieces
But no one can see them
Because no one can get in.
I’m boarded up.
And I yell and yell
But no one hears me
Because I don’t really want them to
But I do.
I really do.
Illogical beyond measure, I know.
But logic is for robots.
This lady’s an artist.
1d · 30
Jump
I am a cliff.
And I’m a person falling off the cliff.
And I’m the person PUSHING myself off the cliff.
Wow, how masochistic.
I don’t enjoy pain.
And yet
Every time I see a cliff
I jump.
I have a fairly great life.
I am one of the group of fortunate people
Who get to go to school
Who have a kind family
And a roof above my head.
I should be thankful.
I am.
But I’m mostly sad.
I am always afraid of what may happen,
Which probably will inevitably happen
Because life does that sometimes.
I feel like because I am fortunate
I should be happy.
But it’s so dang hard for me to be happy.
I don’t understand it.
Sometimes I wish I was diagnosed with depression
Because then at least
I would have an excuse.
I would have an explanation.
But instead I am left with a sadness
That I can’t explain.
I don’t deserve to be this sad.
My life is awesome.
I don’t have a chemical imbalance in my brain.
I’m pretty sure I got a good amount of serotonin in me.
It’s just me.
But if it’s so easy,
Then why is it so hard?
2d · 316
Art From Ashes
You tried to burn me down
I was wood in a fire
I was kindling drowned
In gasoline.

You tried to burn me down
And you did
You burned and burned
Until I was reduced to charcoal and ash.

What you didn’t know was
Charcoal makes art
Charcoal inspires others
Charcoal is art made from ashes.
2d · 47
Not Exaggerating
Talking to you
Is like walking on thin ice
Covered in eggshells
And infested with mines.
As monotonous
As life can seem
Somehow I still get caught up in it.
Or maybe I find it so boring
That I tap out of reality
And into my imagination.
I am a very idealistic person,
I’m afraid I may get lost in my ideals.
Wouldn’t that make it hard
To accept someone for who they are
If they didn’t match my ideals?
But I don’t actually know what my ideals are.
I always thought I was open-minded.
Maybe I am wrong.
Well, I must be, one way or the other
Because one cannot believe both.
Or maybe they can.
Do shades of grey apply to life
As they do to color?
I have always thought in words.
An inner monologue
Always was busy with thought.
Today I was thinking
About differences.
We all have differences
We are different
We embrace these differences.
Or, at least most of us do.
Well, anyways,
I thought:
Aren’t we all human?
We are-at the core-
The same.
We are equal in our humanity.
In fact,
Sentient creatures of all kinds
Share a certain humanity-
A certain awareness-
That all living things hold.
So therefore,
Why do humans, who so intensely value their own humanity,
Why do they oppress
And afflict pain
Unto their fellow beings of humanity?
Of course
I am not an exemption
Of the **** sapiens habit
Of inconsideration.
I am imperfect as the rest of you are-
I just want to know what drives
A few select humans
To be so unkind.
Turn that frown
Upside-down
Fake it ‘til you make it
You say.

Change your attitude
Wipe your tears
And turn around
Your day.

I am not saying
That you are wrong
(Although you kind of are)
But I’m just saying
All these things
Are easier said than done.
5d · 41
Over-complicated
Are things simple
And I’m over-complicating them?
Or are things complicated
And I’m over-simplifying them.
There is right
And there is wrong.
Simple.
That is, until you meet humanity.
Right things seem wrong,
And wrong things seem right.
No one knows
What is right and wrong anymore.
Where’s the manual?
I think the world is broken.
I feel to much.
Oh, it feels wrong to say that,
But logically, it could be true.
I tend to let my feelings
Get in the way
Of thinking.
But it feels to wrong
To not let myself feel.
But it seems the only way
To not make mistakes
Is to not feel.
I have been taught
To feel, but not to much.
Or to take a stand, but only if it’s uncontroversial.
They say be yourself, but only if your are normal.
Society tells me that no one can be perfect,
While also telling me to not make mistakes.
What do I do?
Which is right?
Are emotions only wrong when they get in the way of logic? Aren’t emotions always in the way of logic? Which should I value more? Does emotion trump logic or vice versa? Is it wrong to feel? Is it wrong to not feel?
5d · 42
I Want Answers
I know
That there is no one to blame
But myself.
But I feel like
It is wrong
To put all the blame on me.
It might just be
Because I am myself,
And I do not wish to be the problem.
But it is the truth.
I am the problem.
Is it justified
To believe I am at fault
And to believe I am the problem
When I am?
Anyone know? I have really mixed feelings, and wondering if they’re justified.
I know.
All of my poems
Are just excuses.
You keep on saying that:
“Stop making excuses!”
I know I made a mistake.
I wish I didn’t.
You are the very person
Who taught me mistakes are bad,
Whether it was directly or indirectly.
And I believed you.
I keep on trying to justify my mistakes.
I’m sorry.
I know I made a bad choice.
But I guess I’m in denial
That I made a mistake
‘Cause didn’t you say mistakes are bad?
You say you don’t expect perfect,
But I think you’re lying.
Because
You expect a child
That makes minimal to no mistakes.
Isn’t that what perfect is?
You expect a child that gives you no troubles.
That is
I guess
The “perfect” child.
Alas, I cannot be perfect.
I am a very troublesome child.
I wish I could mistake-less.
But apparently that’s not how that works.
5d · 43
Worry
I’m running out of time
And I’m feeling kind of worried.
Then I’m like,
“Hey me, stop worrying!”
And somehow
I worry
That I’m worrying,
Because I know that worrying won’t help me.
But I’m worrying,
And that is bad,
Because I have always been told
To stop worrying.
Oh, but now I can’t stop worrying
Because you told me to stop worrying
And now I can’t stop worrying
About the fact I am worrying.
5d · 36
Too Opinionated
Calm down.
Think.
Use your brain.
Take deep breaths.
Don’t get overwhelmed.
Don’t stress yourself out.
It’s easier than you think it is.
I have been told
These things all my life.
Are they right?
I’m not sure.
I don’t always agree
But they might be right.
I think I am too opinionated
To determine whether or not they are right.
Maybe I am inadequate for not
Being able to do these things.
Maybe I am wrong.
Maybe everyone else is right and I am wrong.
5d · 53
My Fault
Everything is my fault.
I know this.
I know it’s my fault I get overwhelmed
And make a bunch of mistakes.
It is my fault, right?
If I asked for help more,
Maybe I wouldn’t be overwhelmed,
So I could think more clearly.
It’s my fault that I didn’t ask for help.
It’s my fault that my Mom got mad
Because I tried to walk away.
I just really needed to walk away
Because reality is too hard.
So now I’ve accidentally disrespected my Mom
And it is my fault.
I won’t blame anyone else.
I think I secretly want to though.
I don’t want it to be my fault
But it is anyway.
My mistakes are my fault.
They say mistakes are human.
I am very human.
Or maybe
I make so many mistakes
That I am no longer human
Because surely
The average human is not
Such a disappointment as me.
5d · 18
Mistakes
Why do I keep messing up?
They say that making the same
Mistake over and over again
While expecting different results is insanity.
Maybe I am insane.
Because I sure as heck are making the same mistakes
Over and over again.
I don’t think
I expect different results though.
I think I have given up
On ever getting a good result.
Sometimes
I am doing well,
And I learn from my mistakes.
But I can never keep it for long
And I make the same mistake again.
I can’t be correct for more than three weeks.
Maybe I am a wrong person,
Because I cannot not make mistakes.
Everyone else
Make mistakes.
I am sure of this.
But their mistakes are small and trivial.
I mess up big things, like relationships.
Because that is messing up others.
This is why I need to be alone.
5d · 24
Sorry
I’m sorry.
I know you were just trying to help.
I don’t know why,
But I almost felt attacked.
I know I made a mistake
But I wasn’t thinking.
I keep on making mistakes.
Too many.
I make more mistakes than most,
I think.
It’s almost as if I never learn.
Or maybe I learn,
And forget.
But I am sorry
I was just trying to run away
Because I needed to give myself space
Away from reality.
7d · 89
Riptide
I was drowning
I was drowning because you
Pushed me past the edge
Off the cliff of sanity.

I struggled through the riptide
The waves grabbed me by both arms
Thrashed and almost smashed
Into the rocky shelf.

I tried to swim and I sank
I sank to the ocean floor
I sank until I let go
And finally floated to the the surface.
I was scared of dentists and the dark...I was scared of pretty girls and starting conversations...Oh all my friends are turning green...you’re the magician’s assistant in their dreams....Oh ooooo ooooo ooo Ah oooooooooooo and they come unstuuuck
Feb 18 · 25
Metaphor
Quinn Adaire Feb 18
The snow is a white blanket.
Life is a torrential sea.
Living is piloting an airplane during a blizzard.
Still water is a mirror.
The girl was a lioness
Regal and sleek.
Metaphor is the Voyager Golden Record
Of humanity.
Feb 18 · 18
Skyscraper
Quinn Adaire Feb 18
Sky high
Towering above.
No one here
Is as tall as me.
It’s kind of lonely
Up here in the clouds.
No one is tall enough
To stay and chat.

To stay and chat
Towering above.
No one here
Is as tall as me.
It’s kind of lonely
Up here in the clouds.
No one is tall enough
Sky high.
Quinn Adaire Feb 18
Snow brings a new start.
Each day is novel.
Rain washes off tears.
Weather makes anew.
Feb 18 · 33
Massacre
Quinn Adaire Feb 18
Humming
People sounds
Surround.
The sound
Of civilization
Vibrate
Through the whole of society.
A nation
A city
A world
Hearing the hum
Of humanity.
A writing prompt said write about something peaceful with a violent title so...
Feb 18 · 33
Small Flame
Quinn Adaire Feb 18
A small flame
Can burn a forest
And send smoke billowing.
Just one small flame
On a melting candle.
Feb 18 · 75
When Two Atoms Collide
Quinn Adaire Feb 18
Moving fast
Through my day
I won’t slow down
Catch up to me.
I am a tornado
I am a flame
A hurricane
Of business.
——————————————-
Slow down
Be at peace
This life was never
A race to the end.
I am a snow flake,
Drifting down
Take my time
Before I hit the ground.
Feb 18 · 36
Unfortunately
Quinn Adaire Feb 18
It’s unfortunate
That you cannot understand
What has disfigured
This kindred spirit of yours.

I am not content
Because you won’t accept me
And you are unsheathing a
Poison licked sword of hate.
Quinn Adaire Feb 18
Barbed wire disguised as a sanctuary.
Decay in the comfort of a garden full of foxglove.
Attend meetings at cathedrals with pastors
Droning on and on beckoning you to come unto God.
But why would you when All Mighty and Powerful God
Deserted you when you needed him the most.
You have experienced too much to be comforted.
Feb 17 · 24
Red
Quinn Adaire Feb 17
Red
Red roses
Red poppies
Red apples in summer.
Red blood spilled
Red lipstick
Red eyes after crying lakes.
Red markers
Red houses
Red bricks breaking through my window.
Red hearts
Black hearts
Broken hearts.
Feb 17 · 29
Routine
Quinn Adaire Feb 17
Wake up.
Go to school.
Come home.
Do homework.
Do chores.
Read.
Sleep.
Wake.
School.
Home.
Sleep.
So tired
Of all this predictability.
Days
Blend into each other.
Every day is the same.
Feb 17 · 40
Isn’t It Funny
Quinn Adaire Feb 17
Isn’t it funny
That people always put so much effort in
Just to look effortless?
It’s kind of contradictory,
The way people work themselves like that.
Shouldn’t we be proud of
All the hard work we have done?
I am pretty sure we should,
But instead we are ashamed.
We are always ashamed that we struggle sometimes.
Isn’t it funny
That humans
Are always ashamed
To be human?
Feb 17 · 572
A Mixture
Quinn Adaire Feb 17
A mix
Of joy and pain,
Plain as day
On the lines of pages.

Like a roller coaster,
Poems rise high
As the sunset
But soon sink low
Almost touching the ground.

But the thing about poems,
Is that they take any shape.
Sad
Happy
Painful
Pleasant.

It doesn’t matter
If you just wrote a mourning story,
You can still tell a tale of joy.

I have said that rhymes are liquid.
I wasn’t kidding.
Liquids take any shape and fit the container they are poured in.
And when they aren’t contained
They spill and spread everywhere.
Poetry does too.
Feb 17 · 31
The Reason
Quinn Adaire Feb 17
The little girl and her Mama are sitting on their sofa by the fire.
As her Ma closes their storybook, the little girl Amara asks her Mama,
“What is a reason?”
The story they were reading was about a boy
That boy was always searching for a reason to live.
A reason is your purpose, what keeps you alive.
The little boy lost his.
He spent his entire life looking for his reason.
One day, he ran into another boy.
This other boy was also looking for his reason.
They played and talked and laughed together.
They grew up together.
The little boy thought the other boy was his reason.
That is, until a small child was delivered at their doorstep.
The little child became their reason.
Soon the child grew up, and had kids of their own.
A little granddaughter was born, and she became the boys’ reason.
The boys grew old, loving and holding and caring for all
Their reasons.
They died, in each other’s arms, thankful for their reasons.

In reply to the little girl’s query, her Mama spoke,
“A reason to live is your reason to love.”
The little girl was content with this answer, and smiled back, sweet as a spoonful of sugar, saying, “Then you’re my reason.”
Her Mama held her little girl close, and said, “You’re my reason too.”
Sorry that it was so long! I just had this idea and it was just too sweet to let go of.
Feb 17 · 28
Perfect
Quinn Adaire Feb 17
I always need to be perfect.
You tell me that I have it all together.
I don’t.
I never do.
I should take it as a compliment,
But the expectation weighs me down.
I need to be perfect.
I need to get good grades in school
So I can get into a good college,
Get a good job,
Have a good life.
I know my parents only want the best for me,
But I don’t ******* want to be perfect.
Crap, cussing is a sin.
But I don’t give a **** **** because I’m not perfect.
On the exterior, I’m calm
Happy
Cheerful.
But I’m really crumbling
I’m falling
Because I’m failing
Because I’m NOT PERFECT.

WHY DID YOU ALWAYS SAY I DIDN’T NEED TO BE PERFECT?
WHY DID YOU LIE TO ME?

I’m not perfect.
I’m crying.
I’m crying because I failed you.

I’m sorry.
I’m so sorry.

Why can’t I be perfect?
Have you ever read the book “You Asked For Perfect” by Laura Silverman? Yeah, it hits me right in the feels.
Feb 17 · 21
We Poets
Quinn Adaire Feb 17
We poets
Are very dramatic.
Rose colored glasses
Could be our logo.
Life is never just life,
But is this entire story that just HAS to be written.
We write
Like it’s the only thing
Keeping us alive,
A ring buoy
In a torrential sea, wave after wave.
Our need to express
Is so intense
That sometimes we make up stuff
Because reality fails to offer
The inspiration we desperately need.
We are dramatic.
We are creative.
We can sometimes be exhausting
And overly excited
And sometimes
We may embellish
Just a little bit.
But most of all,
We poets are freakin’ awesome!
Feb 17 · 16
Really Dang Cliche
Quinn Adaire Feb 17
Okay.
This is really cliche
But I’m not sure exactly
What love is
Because there are so many ideas
In the world of today.

You see
Some people say it’s a butterfly in your chest
Or when your stomach
Does a gymnastics routine worthy of a gold medal.
Others say it’s a feeling of safety,
Comfort
Reassurance,
Because when you’re with your loved one,
You are okay.

I have also been told
Love is when you find
Companionship
And friendship
And compassion within a person.

Is it a flash
A strike of lightning
And BOOM you’re in love?
Or a gradual
“I really like you”
Which turns into
“I really love you.”

Truth
Myth
Lie
Deceit.

Too many
Too many.
Feb 16 · 53
Grow
Quinn Adaire Feb 16
We live
We cry
We fall
We smile.

We topple down,
We knock others down,
But we grow
And grow
And grow
Until we tower above skyscrapers
A universe above the Empire State.

Bask in your light.
Grow.
I’ll meet you on the moon
Where we can chat with the sun,
Higher than we’ve ever been.
Feb 16 · 23
Hate Meets Compassion
Quinn Adaire Feb 16
Love doesn’t exist.
I will never let myself believe that
Time truly heals.
I repeat my mantra:
True love is a ****** myth.
It is a falsehood that
Compassion is all you need.
The truth is
Hate is what rules the world.
I will never say
That hope emerges in our trials.
I am convinced
Life is a plane on downward trajectory.
Or
All light that once existed is snuffed out,
It is an absolute deceit that
I can chase my dreams, so they become reality.
Now read it backwards, people! (Not word by word, if you didn’t know.)
Feb 16 · 37
Until the End
Quinn Adaire Feb 16
Shine your light upon me
So that I may see
The very thing that enraptured me.
Upon your arrival into my life,
I found that my burdens grew light.
True love is when you find a friend,
Who loves you and will help you grow
Until the end.
Feb 15 · 148
Beauty
Quinn Adaire Feb 15
Humans
Are always fascinated
By beauty.
And yet
When we see the world’s beauty
We destroy it
In a greedy attempt
To take it for ourselves.
Feb 14 · 44
The World
Quinn Adaire Feb 14
I can’t give you the world.
Can’t conjure it up for you.
But I already
Got the world right in front of me.

But I’ll write you the sea
I’ll write you a town,
I’ll write you the trees.
I’ll type up the moon
And the stars in the sky
But not once will you see me writing you a goodbye
Not once will you see me writing you a goodbye.
Feb 14 · 62
Tightrope
Quinn Adaire Feb 14
I’m walking the line
I already lost what I thought was mine
And I’m walking the line
Catch me if I fall, my dear.
I can feel the wind up here.
In my hair.
On the tightrope
You only have one chance.
So I dance
I dance, my darling.
If I fall, won’t you catch
Me?
Feb 14 · 69
Untitled
Quinn Adaire Feb 14
I don’t understand
Where you stand.
Are you on my side?
I don’t like being lied
To.
Feb 14 · 51
Shades of Grey
Quinn Adaire Feb 14
I’m always on guard.
Always afraid.
Always on thin ice.
The eggshells-
They crunch beneath my feet.
Can’t say the wrong thing
Did I say the wrong thing?
Right and wrong.
Right and wrong.
Black and white-
Somewhere in between?
Feb 14 · 45
Politics
Quinn Adaire Feb 14
Fazed
In a haze
Lost in a maze
Keep on praising
The ones who are crazy.
Feb 14 · 18
Liberate
Quinn Adaire Feb 14
I always dreamt of being free.
But every time I broke the chains,
I handcuffed myself to sadness.
I am familiar with this blue entity,
Who suffocated my success.
But I will not pity myself
Anymore.
The point of these poems
Is to liberate me
From self-made chains.
I just want to help
You guys and myself too.
Because the pen is more powerful than the sword,
And I won’t duel with myself anymore.
Feb 14 · 172
Peaceful and Tortured
Quinn Adaire Feb 14
Always drowned out by darkness.
I will never let myself be
Happy and at peace.
I am currently
Tortured and in pain.
I am not always
Okay now.
I am finally
Drowned out so no one can get close.
I don’t want to be
The girl who is ignorant.
I am not
Peaceful and serene.
Now read it backwards-you know the drill. DO NOT read it word-by-word like “serene and peaceful not am I ignorant is who girl the.” Read it like “peaceful and serene. I am not the girl who is ignorant.”
Feb 14 · 23
Nothing
Quinn Adaire Feb 14
You cannot do nothing.
You cannot be nothing.
We are all something,
And to someone in the world,
You are everything.
We believe that we are nothing,
But nothing can be nothing,
Unless it does not exist.
You cannot do nothing
Because even when you’re dead
You are laying there.
That is something.
One cannot be nothing.

We exist.
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