Bound by society,
Trying to free her wings
Balancing truth with conformities
Leaving her hung like a child on a swing.

Torn by expectations,
Each piece a clue to her mind
Ragged in clothes not hers, but theirs
Bearing with them, of her, no sign.

Leaving it, she'd attempted,
'Integrate', they said
'Lose yourself, to join us'
They could've said instead.

Love to many people means just the
Phisycal things love to others mean to be able to trust the
Other person with their feelings to be able to love them and only them to love them with their whole heart forever but really does love EVER last I mean sooner than later love dies either in life ending or just no longer a flame or because someone thought love was a game if you take a step back and think Does Love Really Ever Last?

Sometimes a sadness comes over me.
And I drag myself under the porch  
like a wounded dog,  
injured and ashamed
ready to die, alone
I never let the rest the world see me like this.
My friends and family,
What would they think?
probably the worst,
Maybe they wouldn't think about it at all,
It didn't make much difference.
I howled and moaned and wept,
And sooner or later,
when I built up the courage,
Usually, after a night in a tall glass,  
drunken spit,
and flickering cigarettes,    
I drag myself back out.  
I shake out my bones,
and start all over again.
I know one day
I wont have the strength to crawl back out from under the old porch ,
But that's  okay.
We never really had a shot anyway
did we?

I collect poetry for pleasure
because i'd rather drown myself
in words that explain how i feel
and what i'm thinking, then
drown myself in peoples thoughts
and opinions about me.