somehow her hair halts me at every sentance
a dark brown finsh over a cute slinder face
her personalty speaks rhthmic poetry
like a connection over mortal things
and the only thing she said was hi
normaly i would forget a greeting
but it seems so inviting  if the whole world went left it seemed like the right thing
so like lightning i respond hi
tripped over my words
and got lost in her eyes
a pale blue that could unviel any disguise
she said my name is hannah
and so nearly 2 hearts almost coldide

Headstrong, yet bitten by the snake of narcotic charm...
As the venom flows, your dreams slowly begin to die
The goals, the passions, the visions begin to change
The personalty of the passionate man turns to selfishness
The confidence turns to self pity from the demon within
What was, what is and what will be, turns to nothing
The morals turn to lies, the caring turns to taking
This narcotic charm transfers itself to a necrotic death
Your family, your friends, your love, have slowly given up
You've hit rock bottom and still look for the snake's charm
It has been your pet for so long and you can't let it go
Your only have two choices, to slither in it's hole and die
The second is the *most important decision of your life

When you are asked
What you look for
You say eyes
And a smile
And overall beauty
Like most of the guys

So my endless nights of studying
And attention I pay everyday
To further become a more intelligent being
And the positive thoughts I cram
Into my brain
To have a beautiful personalty
And the millions of words
I tie together to form
A meaningful poem
are nothing

So maybe thats why
We spend countless hours
Just finding what perfect shade
Of lipstick brings out our smile
And pointless times
Fixing our hair
And precious seconds
Trying to excentuate our eyes
And thousands of dollars
Of metal and wire
To straighten our smiles

and maybe thats why
I put down my books
And picked up the makeup


But I've slowly returned


To the books

Because

Beauty without
Intelligence
Is like a masterpiece
On a napkin

Light the cigarette, inhale exhale repeat
Hurry before your mother finds out
Pulling you back inside by the ear
Slaps your hand followed with shouts
Pots and pans clank together
Furious tension and disappointed parents
A sore hand and ear march up the stairs
Slam! The door and put your headphones in
reflect about this teenage anger and the
half finished smoke burning out on the sidewalk
Listen to the music, calm down
Vibrations from cheap store brand headphones
more then likely stolen

If I could tally up all the cigarettes that I used to ease my mind from thoughts of you,
check the mail often,
causes there's a few empty packs heading your way.
Along with a hospital bill for some new lungs because mine are ****** up
A pair of thumbs that don't ache from the texts I send
trying to make you feel the same about me.
And lastly a heart that only knows how to pump blood
that doesn't remember the good and bad times
one that doesn't build up the pressure from the past
then fires a pain through my torso wrapping around my ribs
causing me agony in the late nights

Worry not old friends I am better
No more are my Friday nights spent reflecting
on the past and possible futures

It's funny you know
I put my emotions into these words
and in turn produce new ones
A forever reoccurring chemical reaction of
lines potent with the stench of the dark side of my thoughts
and vibrant memories
If I continue to write what will become of me?
In how many words will it take to feel like a normal person
and not a black sheep of society
How many lines of reactions are needed for my personalty to become something anew?
Maybe I will be able to be in a room full of strangers, and walk away with friends
Instead of isolating myself to avoid having those horrible, terrifying things
known as social interactions
What's the big deal if friends of friends dislike you?
It's simple go up and say hello
but what if she dislikes my voice
my hair
my weight
the smallest insignificant thing, then my attempt shall be wasted.
My self worth a never ending cold, empty well

Go and do man's greatest creation; language
but alas conversation is a dying art form
Those who express their emotions through words sure are strange aren't they?
Maybe it's my culture that is the cause of my anxiety.

I stay up every night to enjoy being alone
with hopes of capturing thoughts such as these
then regret the lack of hours I slept that night
only to repeat the process again

This piece has no flow no direction,
Good
Observe how my mind works
See what I think about day after day
Look at the beginning of a memory, watch it decay
and erode from over analysis
broken down down to pointless open ended conclusions
and unsatisfying endings.

To run after material fame
Counted not rich sensitive game;
Among wealth, *** and love affairs,
Character is above all arbiter.

As adorn ornament each bridal's limb,
An artist make active clumsy-wart-stone;
Company bear trophy by aggressive troops
Oblige character graceful at distress grown;

The character die seldom minus bloom,
Yet en-lights personalty fade in gloom;
Usually left little paid proper care,
Although always seen inclined sincere;

Certain place customary said temple
Where almighty's statue noted install
Estimated body deserving only when;
Thermal of character never fall;

Effort need to build the character
Honesty and endurance are weapon mere;
By effacement total thought rankle
And block pulse hide egotism perennial;

Good name lost can regain later
But character pleases rare if blot;
A richest jewel survive human tread;
Turn soul ill, fret, spiritless on rot.

what if I'm not that deep person who can write with a certain flow with her words,
what if I'm not that person with a boyfriend, who gets closer and closer to losing her virginity,
what if I'm not the giggly girly shopping gossip girl who doesn't get ****** jokes,
what if I'm not into series of tv shows and don't get hooked on to them and grip them with my life,
what if I'm not the boyish one who makes ***** jokes and seems like the tom boy,
what if I'm not the smartest girl in the grade with top averages who will gets straight As.
everyone has these reputations. everyone is known for something special
what am I? Who do people think of me as? That one friend who is like the others?
Is the freaking shadow of everyone. the follower?
Well this 'follower' has dreams too. Wild ones. She also has deep poems etched in her being
She has a ****** side (doesn't everyone?) and dreams of wild dreamy guys
She is girly deep within sometimes. theres an itch to wear nice clothes and shop (RARELY)
She has a few fandoms, though she doesn't worship them, and create her personalty from them
She is a tom boy, but she doesn't constantly talk about it, even though she acts like one
She is smarter than some think, so don't call her Stupid! that was drilled into her head years ago (No need to remind)
She does dream and does have obsessions, she does read up and research things!
But i wonder if anyone will notice? I wonder if anyone knows I've finally figured out i know what i am
I am a little bit of everything. But since I'm not any of the extremes, I won't be noticed

When thinking of me, who do you really see?
A person whom you would like for me to be,
Or someone full of personalty?
A complex system of organs and tissue,
Or tightly bound skin around a framed figure?
Do you think about the things I may cherish?
Or the things I hate most about myself as you stare at me?
I myself don't believe you do,
I believe you think plainly of yourself and not how others feel.
Not caring about helping others feel real.
Justifying others through shapes and sizes,
Not ever wondering where exactly there mind capsizes.
When in reality, they could feel deeply suppressed and in need.
But while you sit there and stare at me, I hope to god you think I'm ugly or obsolete.
I pray to the heavens that my time won't be wasted as yours has,
Because while you sit there and stare,thinking about me,
I'll be focussed on how I could ever make another person,
Smile back at me.

You should "smile" more
Why do you always look so depressed
So I do
I smile
I laugh
I watch the world pass by me pretending
I smile
I laugh
I carve it into my face
I wish my poems came out the way my thoughts are in my head
It's all a mess
All jumbled up
Loud and harsh
Headache inducing voices that never shut up
The smile is disillusioned happiness
Smile
I keep smiling
I will smile myself to an early grave
With my actions
I no longer have any idea who I am
I list off my fake dreams and my fake goals
But I never believe I will live to make them a reality
I act fine and no one questions it
Im bitter and broken
Im angry and lost
I got sober for a while but thats when all the pain came back
I was clean for a while but thats when I could no longer take the internal pain
Pills
Potions
Blood
No longer happy
Overdose
But Im saved for one more excruciating day
Why can't you just let me die
Smile
Nothing happend
I'm fine
See im smiling
Smile
All your problems will be solved
I don't remeber what my real smile looks like
I'm so numb and empty
I just wish smiling wasn't a chore
I wish I could write my esseys the way I write my poems or books
I don't know whats so ****** up with my brain but thats ok
I'll just smile for one last day on earth
Im scared for any change though
The pain has become a fimillar feeling
I feel lost without it
I feel like of im not in pain I don't have a personalty
My mental illnesses have become my personality
I'm no longer a person just a problem
One last

Implanted delusions in empty vessels
the Emperors new coat infection amass
errs in irrelevant connections to fantasies laid
innocent looks are coated with lustful meanings
a joke of black becomes a gospel truth to parade
poems becomes declarations of intent as if it were so

Its said this is standard practice in take downs
where every facets of life is shredded and polluted
shatter ridicule and hang falsehood in misrepresentation
the hoods are in town making mincemeat out of a soul
you are in the frame and the deal is constant harassment foul
dowse the spirit with ceaseless false projections bathe in haze

Reprobates cackle of peeling scabs of wounds
over 'n over in repetitive fervor yet no wound exist
truths are ignored and anodynes decide editorials
a wipe-out of reality erasure of content and personalty
union of scums upholds, you will not know who you are
well, let just say my forefathers were never below decks
chained starved and beaten in a galleon headed across the Atlantic

"A luta continua, vitória é certa"
do your worse!!!.......................................