Who will I be when I wake up today?
Peppy, moody, angry, snooty?
All my personalities are waiting for their turn.
Artsy, smart-aleck, rude, idiot?
I open my closet.
All the personalities wait to be worn.
You know what?
Today I won't be what you want.
I close the closet and get ready for school.
Today, I'll just be me.

We played hide-and-seek,
But you weren't looking for me.
We played tag,
But I was always it.
It's all fun and games,
Until I start writing poetry.
Then you know that you're well and truly *******.
There. It's done.
What you did is posted for the world to see.
Hope you enjoyed your game.

...Is terrifying.
Every line feels like a judgement.
...Is beautiful.
Every line feels like a symphony.
...Is art.
Every line feels like a masterpiece.
...Is pain.
Every line feels like a heartbreak.
...Is love.
Every line feels like a dedication.
...Is me.
Every line, every word, every letter feels like my own.

Although I am freezing, I warm your heart.
I bring everyone together, though I'm gone by morning.
Swirling down in a haze, I cover everything in beauty,
But you can't admire me without destroying me.

What am I?

You know what I realized?
As I stood in my empty kitchen
In my empty house
Holding the knife to my chest
I realized that love rhymes with blood.
Huh.

When examined literally, our brains and our hearts are for little more than keeping us alive. Pumping blood, providing signals to our nerves, they have little function beyond that. In the world of science, that is. The world of philosophy and imagination, however, has a much more expansive approach to our body's most useful organs. The heart is for feeling, the mind is for believing. And when these two things are combined, you get a beautiful and dangerous combination. You begin to think. You imagine fantasy worlds, entire timelines behind our world. Everyone and everything has its purpose in the end, and this is yours. To think, and discover things you never thought existed. But as comes all journeys, there will be substantial hardship. While you will discover feelings like love and happiness, you will also find things like anxiety and sadness. If you allow those feelings to consume you, eventually you will become your own worst enemy. And inevitably, you will destroy yourself from the inside out. So many people have fallen prey to those emotions. But you will overcome them. Because you are strong. You'll wipe the tears from your face, stand up, and begin to continue onwards on the ultimate journey of life.

Everyone was looking for it.
The legend.
Nobody knew what it was.
But I blindly followed them on the search.
Traveling endlessly, we answered the call of adventure.
Most turned back.
They tuned in to the monotony of life and ignored the call.
But not me.
I stayed.
Searching, even when all others had given up.
Then, one day, I found it.
It wasn't much.
Just a small hole.
But it stretched into infinity.
I looked in, and I was greeted by a mindshattering sight.
I looked in to myself.
"You have come far."
"But only to fail."
"This is not your legend."
"Your legend is yourself."
I watched myself fade away, and relished in my new knowledge.
I no longer heard the call of adventure.
I heard the call of the universe.
The call of myself.

I am the spring, gentle and kind.
I am the summer, outgoing and enthusiastic.
I am the autumn, dreamy and sweet.
I am the winter, shy and quiet.

I spread my flowers through the wind.
I give everybody a good time.
I help everyone come together.
I provide endless cuddle opportunities.

I am warmth.
I am light.
I am love.
I am togetherness.

I am not the seasons.
I am the flower.

Blooming in spring.
Flourishing in summer.
Wilting in autumn.
Dying in winter.

I have been created.
Called.
Summoned.
It echoes through dimensions.
The call only I can hear.
The scream.
The whisper.
The echo.
The call only I can hear.
It changes as I listen.
It goes loud, booming into my ears.
It goes quiet, until I strain myself to hear it.
Even when it fades, it's still there in my head.
In my head.
In my head.
In my head.
It screams at me.
Too loud!
Stop!
Please!
But the call doesn't listen.
It just keeps shouting.
In my head.
In my head.
In my head.

There's a place
I like to go
Where nobody says yes
And nobody says no

Nobody argues
For nobody's there
Nobody is mean
And nobody cares

It's always quiet
The silence never ends
But I'm not alone
Nobody's my best friend

She disliked me from the moment she saw me.
'Whispered' to you,
(But we all could hear her)
That I was no good for you.
I tried to prove myself.
I worked as hard as I could.
And just when I finally became something...
Just when I finally thought she could accept me...
You left me.
I guess she was right.
I was no good for you.
I'm no good for anyone.
I'll be leaving now, taking my shattered hopes with me.

The frost settles on my windowpane.
So beautiful and so impermanent.
Like our love.
Like our life.
You call me downstairs.
You say 'we need to talk'.
I know what's coming.
The rejection flies away.
Another snowflake in the wind.
Another snowflake in the blizzard of my emotions.

My mom said I wasn't real,
When I told her the crash wasn't her fault.

I'm having a lovely lovely dream,
When you wake me up. But I'm not mad!
You lift me out of bed with your shiny gleam,
As if just seeing me awake makes you glad.

Time to get dressed for another day.
Pink? Red? Green? Blue?
If I look cuter, maybe they'll let me play.
But my appearance doesn't matter to you.

I step outside and feel the spring air.
A falling leaf lands on my nose with a 'boop!'
The wind swirls, messing up my hair.
You push me forwards as I walk to school.

Well, I'm here. I need to go inside...
You wrap around me like a towel. I'll miss you too!
Oh no, silly, please don't cry!
My bestest friend, I'll always come back for you!

I'm not giving up.
I'm just accepting my fate.
I'm not quitting anything.
I'm just speeding up the inevitable.
I'm not surrendering.
I'm just done with fighting.
But remember:
The battle was lost,
But not the war.

I spent all night drawing.
My friends said they love it.
But I'm no good, so why bother trying?

I practiced the song for weeks.
I got first place in the talent show.
But I'm no good, so why bother trying?

I spent hours perfecting the recipe.
They ate all of it, and asked for more.
But I'm no good, so why bother trying?

We hid behind the bleachers.
You had your lips parted, ready for a kiss.
But I'm no good, so why bother trying?

Why try when I've already failed?

what they said wasn't in the video
it's probably just my fault
other people have bigger problems
i should be better
why can't i be what you want
i'm sorry i'm not good enough for you
i'm sorry i'm not good enough for anyone
oh
give me a second
let me just wipe the tears away
and hide the scars
Alright. You can come into my room now!

"I'm glad I'm not you."
The thought of the evil person.

"I'm glad I'm not you."
The thought of the kind person.

When the screaming is too loud
And the blood is too thick
When the pain is too much
And the words don't stop

When the words don't stop
When the words don't stop
When the words don't stop

When I can no longer handle all my imperfections,
Then the knife comes out.

Step right up and hit the girl!
She belongs to you anyways.
Girl for sale! Girl for sale!
Too bad she's worth dirt.
Extra, extra, read all about it!
Auction today, all the girls you could ever want!
It doesn't matter how they feel.
You're in control.
A new toy comes along, replacing me.
Don't worry. I'll wait in the trash for you to get bored.

Where
Am
I?
Opened
Up
My
Eyes
But
I
Can't
See.
I
Am
Surrounded
By­
An
Endless
Abyss.
Looking
Through
The
Screen,
I
See
The
Next
Dim­ension.

She's sitting alone in her room.
You look at her and you think:
God, she's beautiful.
But she can't see it.
Nobody can but you.
Your words, your kisses, your empty promises
They flow out of her.
She's tried as long as she can to hold on,
But she's broken.
And you're not.
She's done holding you back.
You're done holding her here.
In the end, nobody's happy.

Is this a poem?
No.
It's just words on a screen.
Poetry is art.
It's beautiful.
What you see here is just letters
Forming sounds
Forming words
Forming lines
Forming death

Your words
Fly through my head
Like fireflies
Caught in a jar
Trapped by a child
Kissed by the sun
And a strawberry ice cream pop in his hand.

Your words
Dig into my skin
Tunneling
Like an ant
Endlessly perseverant
Endlessly irrelevant
Never more than a soldier
Fighting for a king that doesn't care.

Your words
Surround me
Engulf me
Trap me
An endless web of lies
Stretching out through my heart
Winding around my love
And squeezing
Tight tight
Until I am completely yours
Forevermore.

Why is he mad at me?
What did I do?
I asked him to stop.
He said it was fine.
He just wouldn't speak again.
You were being mean!
...Right?
Am I the mean one?
I was standing up for her!
Like you told me to!
It's not my fault...

I open up the website. A million worries nag in my head.
Does nobody get it?
Does everyone hate it?
Is one-word titles stupid?
Are my words stupid?
Words swirl around in my head.
I pop open my skull and pull out a fresh poem.
I grab my bottle of inspiration and mix it up.
There. It's done.
Time to set my words free.

Words.
All poems start with a word.
All poems end with a word.
But the middle?
That's up to the poet.
The middle is my hopes and dreams.
The middle is my secrets and desires.
The middle is my love and sadness.
The middle, my love, is where the poem begins.
But my middle never ends.
It just keeps going.
On and on and on.
Hopes and dreams and secrets and desires and love and sadness.
Words, words, words.

Sometimes I'm not sure what I am.
A poet?
An author?
Or am I just some idiot who thinks her stories are worth sharing?
That's right. Her. I'm a girl.
A girl who can't figure out what she wants in life.
To write poetry?
To write love stories?
To write exciting stories?
Or maybe, I just want to write.
Write.
Let the words flow out of me, like a spout from my brain.
Write.
Let the words come from you.
It doesn't matter how good they are.
Just leave a trail of words behind you.
Write.
Like me.
And maybe one day, you'll find yourself.

The ink is my sadness.
The paper is my devotion.
The poem, my love.

The idea is my inner thoughts.
The words are my feelings.
The meaning, my infinite anxiety.

The beginning is a story.
The middle is a resolution.
The ending, a travesty.

The pencil is temporary.
The pen can be disposed.
The writing is forever.

I'll never be like you.
I'll never write like you.
I'll never be happy like you.

Like you, like you, like you.

Because of you, I gave up everything.
Because of you, I cried myself to sleep.
Because of you, I found my new dreams.

Because you, because you, because you.

You were never there for me.
You were the reason I had to run.
You are the reason I'm trapped here.

You, you, you.