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Whitney Drew Nov 2017
They wondered about my poise, my grace,
They looked me in my eyes, told me they could never stand in my place,
Grabbed my hands, held me, and told me how much they loved my me,
And how my manner is how they wished to be
Because their heart ached,
But mine too did break.
The words they heard me say on stage,
Were words I wrote after my rage,
And I never even got to bother
With the words in my heart for my father
Because on paper the tears never came
Only numbness did remain.
But I could not bring myself to differ
From the words that I wrote, I felt my body got stiffer,
As I thought about my only feeling
My mind began its reeling
He was here then he was not,
And from that is where my woes are wrought.
I never said the words in my heart
My world was dim, my soul was dark,
Twice, my Lord, I beg of you why
I cursed the heavens, I screamed the sky
Because my heart could take no more
I sank on my knees down to the floor.
I’m sorry daddy, I want to say,
I let my talent rot away,
All my interests are dying or dead
Because I couldn’t get out of my head,
And I know you wouldn’t want me to live like this
But do you know what I miss?
I miss the times we gazed at stars
And you showed me Venus and showed me Mars,
I miss our time spent at the lake
Even though every five seconds I took a talking break,
I miss the jokes you shared with me
I miss the way things used to be.
And I’m so sorry daddy that I wasn’t there,
And I’m sorry I didn’t lay my soul bare
Because I was always too proud to cry
As if it would cause my circuits to fry
Or maybe because I never got over my brother
And then I lost another.
And I hope you know I loved you more
Than I could ever dare to explore.
Whitney Drew Dec 2016
It never storms when you want it to,
At most it slips quietly away into a cold, harsh rain
Because you are never graced with rage,
But you are burdened with despair,
And though thunder begs to leap from your lungs,
The tears choke it back down to nothing,
Nothing but a desperate silence.

And though you hope for rainbows,
The tears come too heavy, too thick,
The world exists as a cruel distortion,
And all you can hear is the deafening sound of your rain,
But then the silence hits you,
But the sun doesn't shine down on you
Because your sun doesn't shine.

And then the thunder storm comes,
Though you tried not seek it out,
The thunder is no longer choked out of your body,
And the lightening shines white hot and angry in your eyes,
And you revel in your wrath
Because your sadness gave way to rage,
And in all of its perverted glory, you desired it.

Because you've forgotten about the rainbow,
Because you've forgotten about the sunshine.
Whitney Drew Oct 2016
I wish they had told me what it was like
To have people devour your body, but
Pick around your mind
Like a painting that they found distasteful
But tolerated because it was visually appealing
Or a main course that they tried because they heard it tasted good

I wish that they had told me of regret and pain
And that they didn't think that charisma was in the sway of hips
But rather in the tone of the voice and the velvet of the words
Because I looked striking that night
But no one wanted to speak of externalities
But rather gawk like Tantalus at the apple
Whitney Drew Oct 2016
Yeah, I was the girl of his dreams,
But you’re the man of mine,
And I thought love was *******,
But now I think we’d turn out fine.

There are tears on my keyboard,
And that’s how I know it’s bad,
But with you my heart beats stronger,
And you’re the best thing I’ve never had.

And I don’t like your new girl
Because she isn’t me,
But I broke your heart first,
Yeah, that much I can see.

And your words they just **** me,
I’m bent out of shape this time,
You are the greatest guy,
And I just want to call you mine.

I hate that you like her,
And I hope that she’s perfect,
And I hope that she loves you
Because ******* you’re worth it.

My heart feels heavy,
And it’s my own **** problem,
And I’m trying to cope but,
I just can’t seem to solve them.

I guess that I should be honest,
But it’s a thing I just can’t bear
I can’t ruin your joy
My God, I would not dare.

But it’s killing me softly,
So painfully slow,
I hope that she’ll love you,
I just need to know.

I’m being so selfish,
Because my heart went crazy.
I didn’t love these boys,
My vision’s just hazy.

It’s my own **** fault, and,
I hope you know I know
That I’m wrecked on the insides
Because of how this could go.

And I hate that you like her,
But I hope that you’re happy,
And I hope that she loves you
But I'm sad that it's not me.

And these boys meant nothing,
And I need you to know,
That part of me is still hoping
Because I know how this can go.

But I can’t be selfish,
And I can’t get mad
But to tell you the truth,
You’re the best thing I never had.
Whitney Drew Oct 2016
I took an evening stroll with you,
At the harbor we shared a kiss or two,
We watched the sun paint the sky,
I noticed the way the light caught your eye.

I love to sit and gaze at blurs
And think in that moment of what we were
Your fingers had the perfect space
I laid my eyes upon your face

I loved be there by your side
Fending off the butterflies
I held the comfort of our breaths
And you bore your soul, let me feel the depths

But after the harbor, I know we died
I felt like the whole thing was a lie
And God you made me feel alive
But the highs took a swan dive

I took you to my favorite spot
And where we kissed is where I plot
The grave for my heart, and I wonder
why you tore my heart asunder
Whitney Drew Jul 2016
Oh the woes of a lost child
In the church of misfits
Where despair is the religion
And sin is the prayer
Where temples are burned down
Because the body is scattered
And not a soul dare speaks
Because angels and demons dance together in the darkness
Where lust is synonymous to love,
And alcohol taints the once sacred halls
Because this is misery’s cathedral
And the bells always toll
Oh the woes of a lost child
In the school of hard knocks
Where hedonism is the lesson
And greed is the teacher
Where the halls are filled with self-gain
Because there is no trust
And everyone turns a blind eye
Because they’ve used their neighbor as a stepping stone
Where the law does not exist
And betrayal paints the narrow road to success
Because this is gluttony’s classroom
And class is always in session
Whitney Drew Jul 2016
Why did you stop writing?
I have inquired this so many times,
But all you do is shrug as the tears well up in your eyes,
All you do is shake your head as little diamonds fall,
But, dear heart, I know why.
You stopped writing because you have managed to effectively **** it,
And by it, I mean that demon inside of your head that gnawed at your soul
Until you were a shell of a human being,
That demon that would not let you go despite your agony,
The one that you battled for ages.
But why did you stop bleeding onto paper?
You stopped dotting your i’s with tears
And curling your g’s and y’s with smiles,
Each crossed t was your anger,
And each semicolon symbolized a struggle that you’ve overcome.
Oh how I miss your soul
Because the demon that you fought off,
It came back and stole your words from you,
You smile more and write less,
You laugh now but write no more.
Was your creativity in your sadness?
The misery that consumed you drove you mad,
But the consequence was beautiful,
And I’m happy that you’re better,
But I mourn the loss of the artist that painted images in my mind from words on paper.
Where are you?
This is not a selfish plea,
But this is a call of desperation
Because I thirst for the words that flow from your veins,
The stories that gush from your mind.
Can only the raven be your muse?
The dove coos up above but it does not tickle your fancy like the darkness did,
You preferred black to white, scarlet to yellow,
And by God, you were the best of us,
But my Lord, you were the worst.
Why do I mourn you?
You were beautiful but damaged,
And each word, line, stanza was deep and dark and heavy,
And through the words on paper, I could sense the poison in your veins,
And I felt more of your soul there than in all the years that I’ve known you.
But what happened?
I saw the correlation between the madness and the artistry,
You spilled your emotions onto the paper and it was lovely,
And then you got better, and it was beautiful,
But in doing so, maestro, you seemed to have lost sight of the song of your life.
       But what of the dove, of the light?
I miss the art but I care for the being,
But no song is worth your pain,
And nothing beautiful is worth your depravity,
So when I ask for you to write again, my friend, I ask not for the darkness, but for the light.
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