Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Forget what they told me.
Forget what they say.
I've just got to keep reminding myself that...well that it doesn't matter.
They don't matter. They don't even know me.
How dare they look at me like they know why I do the things I do?
Like I'm uncomplicated?
I am so diverse and different they can't even begin to comprehend me...so why do they put me in a box, stick a label on me and expect me to stay there, not to break free?
But I need to be free, I need to explode from the box and jump out yelling
HA! you can't confine me!
I'll grow wings and fly out into the sky, becoming one with the birds and mixing with the colors that the rainbow makes when it eats the rain.
Cannibalistic and beautiful, and everything in between, relishing in the fact that it just IS!
I'll float and I'll drift and I'll be everything you never thought I could be.
I'll be a mix of contradictions and a perfect personification of my own personal irony. Exactly what I am or who I am doesn't matter, what I've been or who I was it's all the past in the present, it's all meaningless.
What matters is me now, drifting...drifting slowly on a feather, holding my heart and my insides on the outside for the world to see,
no more walls!
Just exposure, the most pure kind. Just a complete annihilation of all the walls I built, all the walls I built because of their intruding gazes and reproving eyes.
Everything about them filled with hate and contempt, not willing to accept. Well I accept me...ill learn to accept me once I'm drifting, once I'm floating.
When I'm away.
Far far away, above the clouds, and my head is filled with smoke, because my world is filled with haze...
but never have I felt so clearly, seen so clearly and been so clearly.
And as I burst into the craziest tears I've ever smiled,
I rain upon the world below me!
...but I'm drifting lower...
and I'm not coming back up.
                                                     .
                                                        .
But next time, next time I'll be up again, next time ill burst out of the box and next time! yes, next time! I'll burn that wretched box and never return!
...And they'll miss me for they'll see me drifting in the sky and wish they could reach the stars like i have...
But they won't, because they can't, for up here, this is my world.
One i will not share,
don't want to share
for I have made it my own.

But for now, for now I'm back, with my feet on the ground...
I'm slowly drifting back,
back...down...again
Copyright Krystelle Bissonnette
My nose it too wide
My eyes are too blue
My hair is too straight
My arms are too big
My toes are too long
My hands are too small
My shoulders are too broad.

My skin isn't tan enough
My lips aren't full enough
My hips aren't small enough
My ears aren't long enough
My neck isn't round enough
My eyebrows aren't thin enough
My birthmark isn't hidden enough.

But.

My nose has a freckle on the tip that is so cute
My eyes are round and wide, innocent they seem
My hair is thick and naturally blonde
My arms are super strong
My toenails are perfectly square
My hands are smooth
My shoulders are toned
My pale skin helps when I pretend to be a vampire
My lips are a nice shade of pink
My hips are wide, just more to shake
My ears have enough piercings to make them pretty
My neck has a scar that tells a scary story
My unibrow just means I think nonstop
My birthmark is shaped like heart; why would I want to hide that?

I look in the mirror every day
I point at my reflection
I say, "You **** thang,"
I wink at myself
And I know everything will be okay.
Constructive criticism, please, very helpful.
Tell me anything,
Anything but Reality.

Tell me I’m not made of skin and bones.
Humor me.

Tell me it’s not flesh
That you see
It is a rare substance
Made to hold a mass of creativity

Tell me I do not breathe,
My vitality, air does not sustain.
It is only pulled in constantly
To give rhythm to my brain.

Tell me my heart does not beat
That the pounding only
comes
From a billion butterfly feet.

Tell me I do not bleed
That what pours out
of my veins
Is only liquid speed.

Tell me I do not fear
That it’s only a mechanical
misunderstanding,
Or a malfunctioning gear.

Tell me I do not cry
That the moon simply controls
the water
That spills out from my eye.

Tell me I’m not helpless
That my emotions do not reign
Tell me I’m not vulnerable
That an illusion is all pain.

Tell me Love
I’ll never miss
That the cobwebs of my heart
Can be whispered gone by a single kiss

Tell me I’m the One,
That such a thing is real
Tell me that the sun
Rises at my will

Tell me I am constant
Always on your mind
That another girl like me
Is impossible to find.

Tell me there’s this puzzle
And only I can fit
That I’ll always hold some part of you
At least a little bit

Tell me I’m indispensable.
That no one can take my place
That you’ll never let yourself forget
The details of my face.


And if it’s not too much to ask
Tell me one last lie
Tell me I’m immortal
Until the day I die.
Copyright Krystelle Bissonnette
 Aug 2013 Zoe Robert
James Gerard
August 4th, 1992
That night
My heart began beating
To the rhythm of
Two words
Samantha Shea
My baby girl
She was 9 pound 6 ounces
Of pure love and joy

Her mother’s eyes
My ears
But her smile
Was all her own
She seemed almost wise
Just staring blankly back
At me
Like she knew me
Better than I knew myself
I have never loved anyone
So much

I tried to give her all I could
Make her feel like a real princess
Make her feel safe
And loved
She grew up with things
Her mother and I
Only dreamed of as children
But she was never selfish
Never unkind

I never knew
How much she hated herself
Until I noticed that her arms
Made her look like war veteran
And her eyes
Like those of a ghost
A lost soul wandering around
Lost and Suffering

Could it be that hard
To be a teenage girl
Could it be that hard
To have everything
Handed to you
Everyone love you

That night I saw her as
Nothing but selfish and unkind
I mean how could she do this to us
To herself
I looked her in the eyes and asked
Why
With a single tear running down her face
Resembling a winter’s first snowflake
Or a desert’s first raindrop
She let out the words
“I wasn’t meant for this world”
No you were meant for me
You are my world

I wanted to wipe her tears
And heal her scars
Her years of fear and self-loathing
Was no match for my love
My compassion
My understanding

I spent the next two weeks
Helpless, lost, and confused
By the time we had found her
The bath water was as cold as my heart
The floor stained with drops of
Complete sadness
No note
I cried until I was
Red in my face and
Blue in my heart

A parent should never
Have to bury their child
So we had her cremated
We figured that
She spent 16 years
Stuck in her own box
She shouldn’t have to be
Buried in one

I’ve never loved anyone
So much
written for a dear friend of mine
 Aug 2013 Zoe Robert
Morgan
There's nothing more peaceful than the
way your sentences drag on until
they stop making sense just before
you fall to sleep
And there's nothing more beautiful
than the disheveled look
in your eyes when you
first come alive beneath a
Sunday morning's sky
You'll press snooze at least ten
times before you bother to sit up
And I'll sit silently hoping you won't
say you have to leave at all today
Because
Your yawns are contagious,
your tears are too
And I get completely lost
in every single thing you do
 Jul 2013 Zoe Robert
Francisco DH
Some days I just want to take my life and cut the cords that connect me to the world.
Rip my roots from the ground and shake off every memory that makes me.
Some days I just want to let my breath be the last breath and slowly drift in the wind to be carried to someplace that is better than where I am.
Some days my head whats to explode but I take that pain and shift it to my heart and let it explode there; its already been destroyed by the bombs every one kept sending.
Some days my tears are not enough to fill the hole in my already broken heart and they just slip on my through the cracks.
Some days my smiles cant cover the frowns and the paint just falls off.
Some days I want to be left alone so I can let the silence be my drugs to get me to my high.
Some days I rather have a laugh in my pocket than in the back of my throat.
Some days I don't know what I want.
 Jul 2013 Zoe Robert
Pablo Honey
If you were here
I could be happy
But i need to accept
You are so far… far away

My thoughts do not belong to me
I know…
I need to be myself
And now…

I know you but you need to know me
And then, i feel so tired
So tired and unhappy

But i will find…
Find happiness
When i find you

I know you are so far… far away
But i’ll find you

Could be slow
Could be hard
I really know
Nothing is easy
But one day… I’ll find you
Next page