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"adoptee" poems
I feel out of place Out of place like a mushroom in a green salad Like an all-male rendition of Cats on Broadway Like Godzilla on Melrose Avenue I feel like an adoptee in my own body It's like "Hey! how long have you been here?" My sentences are cut short whenever I try to speak because Of all the train wreck shows that people could watch, I'm the one that's been off air for billions of years Relevance That's what I lack If I open my mouth I sound like I'm from another planet A stranger on this earth, in this land, in this city And I can't forget my mother's words "You'll fit in somewhere." But the boat to ****** island already left, and I'm a bad swimmer Let me feel at ease Let even my whispers make sense Let me touch someone without feeling like I'm burning them Let me do my campaign of shock and awe like a living creature in a cabinet of curiosities I feel out of place Like the lightning that falls inches from the tree Like a satellite thrown off the Earth's orbit Out of place Like a missing sock ****** for the rest of eternity Like a plastic bag drifting through the wind, thank you Katy Perry In my own skin I feel too big and too small All at once This rock in space feels odd, like it's not home But the mothership is long gone And, what can I say I guess I'm stuck here
0
Jul 20, 2015
Jul 20, 2015 at 2:17 AM UTC
Message In A Bottle
i’m lost my legs are tired and the concrete looks like a trampoline if you throw something hard at an even harder surface, the something does not bounce it breaks if i throw my body to the concrete that looks like a trampoline my bones will shatter but my soul will only bruise and that annoys me because i thought death was easy it’s this life that’s hard what happens when escaping life becomes so difficult that death disappears from sight when i thought death was easy but there’s no more fight left in me when did trying to die become so difficult? they tell me i’m not alone which i find to be pretty funny because when my thoughts are falling out of my head too quickly for me to catch i’ll look around and all i see is fragmented thoughts splintered on the ground you have commitments appointments social obligations that consist of lifting others up you have a job and friends and school and papers to write i know it’s hard for you sometimes, too i know i drag you down you say you won’t entertain the thought that my existence is a show put on by lucifer’s angels because i’m just dramatic you say my idleness is the reason why my brain is wasting away i’m the reason i’m wasting away if it’s all in my head, will the pain get better as i get worse? they tell me i’m here and they’ll miss me if i go but when i tell them i’ve been trying to leave for years they tell me no i’ve been trying to stay for years i laugh they tell me there’s so much more to live for smiles and hugs and really dumb jokes art and literature and art and art and art and art one thing art has taught me? everything dies everything ends and humanity’s soul takes a beating every time we try to erase the existence they’ve worked so hard to create we could be frail and throw ourselves to the pavement the headlines the next morning would read Another one Bites the Dust or something it’s really hard to be positive when you don’t want to be or remember how to be when stats of suicide are so frequently reported you wonder if that’s what you’ll become, another statistic “the percentage of suicides of queer, korean adoptee, catholic, females has now risen to 1% this is Fox News reporting” or something i’ve heard that. when did trying to die become so difficult? -rgp
0
Nov 13, 2017
Nov 13, 2017 at 2:55 AM UTC
nothing lasts - we're all dying anyway
i’m lost my legs are tired and the concrete looks like a trampoline if you throw something hard at an even harder surface, the something does not bounce it breaks if i throw my body to the concrete that looks like a trampoline my bones will shatter but my soul will only bruise and that annoys me because i thought death was easy it’s this life that’s hard what happens when escaping life becomes so difficult that death disappears from sight when i thought death was easy but there’s no more fight left in me when did trying to die become so difficult? they tell me i’m not alone which i find to be pretty funny because when my thoughts are falling out of my head too quickly for me to catch i’ll look around and all i see is fragmented thoughts splintered on the ground you have commitments appointments social obligations that consist of lifting others up you have a job and friends and school and papers to write i know it’s hard for you sometimes, too i know i drag you down you say you won’t entertain the thought that my existence is a show put on by lucifer’s angels because i’m just dramatic you say my idleness is the reason why my brain is wasting away i’m the reason i’m wasting away if it’s all in my head, will the pain get better as i get worse? they tell me i’m here and they’ll miss me if i go but when i tell them i’ve been trying to leave for years they tell me no i’ve been trying to stay for years i laugh they tell me there’s so much more to live for smiles and hugs and really dumb jokes art and literature and art and art and art and art one thing art has taught me? everything dies everything ends and humanity’s soul takes a beating every time we try to erase the existence they’ve worked so hard to create we could be frail and throw ourselves to the pavement the headlines the next morning would read Another one Bites the Dust or something it’s really hard to be positive when you don’t want to be or remember how to be when stats of suicide are so frequently reported you wonder if that’s what you’ll become, another statistic “the percentage of suicides of queer, korean adoptee, catholic, females has now risen to 1% this is Fox News reporting” or something i’ve heard that. when did trying to die become so difficult? -rgp
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blood of mine so far to live the life of a double star the constant war in my head separate from a woman who birthed my connection thread the days and nights spent in a deep state of trance the wounds isolate me wanting to watch a ghost dance must I feel like a wanderer every month? pass by strangers while I am on a tedious hunt o' universe teach me how to converse so I can move on without such need to rehearse always the outcast in my environment people have yet to learn about my abandonment a fragile soul I live in I will always live with Nemo's small fin I love ever so hard for I know how it feels to be left scarred blood of mine so far to live a life of a double star ~ p o e t r y of the lost adoptee
0
Oct 14, 2017
Oct 14, 2017 at 2:29 PM UTC
Blood of Mine