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Whitney May 2013
I have to write a happy poem
Even though it’s hard
It’s so strange how happy I tend to be
It’s just my words typed are
muddy

with sorrow and defeat and
fight, fight, fight against someone
I don’t know
who-

could it be?
Am I crazy or sane?
Inside my brain is there a problem
that makes me fake or am I
real?

Do I just shpeal the wrong words at
the wrong times and they just don’t
appeal the way
I want them to.

This poem is not happy
and that makes me sad
Sad and mad but not in the way
that makes me want to fight
the way that keeps
the insomniacs up at night

but

I sleep soundly.

Now I see how confusing this poem
is coming out to be
I should
stop.

Stop now or stop writing I’m
not sure but how
can we be certain of anything
when everyone of us is
bursting with ideas
but so confined.
So confined.

I never want my mind
to feel that way.
English 8
Whitney Sep 2012
I loved you but you let me go
Tell me, how does it feel to be alone?
Purple Book
Whitney Dec 2012
I live in the shadows of the broken hearted.
Scars etched where my shoulder blades once lied.
Stuck deep with bloodied feathers,
that won't let me fly.
I carry a bow long and lean,
carved in it's opal flesh,
hearts mocking me.
With it lie my cursed arrows,
like a bad omen never to leave.

Not born in to life, but thrown
from Heaven was I,
to the grime of
a cracked planet, too far gone to survive.
To bestow love on the corrupt and broken,
the lost and hurt.
The kind of person I once was,
before I was murdered by God.
God is not as gentle and kind as you believe.
Flawed, human, and cruel.
Fragile and meaningless our life is to he,
demolished, and ended with ease.
God thought I would be missed the least.
That's why he chose me.

So now is my duty
to pierce the lonely, the loveless with my
****** arrows.
Give them the love, God never let me have.
I used to not watch the light that spread through their eyes
Electricity spark every nerve in their body
As my arrow ripped and tore
Redesigned their soul.
The pain was too much to bare.
I couldn't imagine seeing happiness so blunt,
so out of reach.
You see, I couldn't shoot myself with my own arrows.
There's no one I could fall for.
I've already hit the ground hard enough.
There's no where left for me to leave.
A sad reality I suffer, but the job must be done.
I must help the lonely ones.
Maybe next time I'll watch and see,
if the love in my arrows is really as strong
as I believe it to be.
I could see with my own eyes, the things I'll never have
and embrace the heartbreak and pain,
as luxary.
Computer
Whitney Oct 2012
I start my day off with half a grapefruit.
At most.
Maybe a piece of gum. Have a peanut here and there.
Every day. That's it.
This is what it means to be beautiful.

But my sister has stopped calling.
My mother doesn't come over anymore.
Because every time she looks at me,
she cries.

I don't know why it bothers them.
I tell myself they're just jealous.
No one is as skinny as me.

My brother sent me to a doctor,
once.
He told me I was unhealthy.
He told me I was going to die.
I didn't believe the man in white,
when he said these things too.
I was angry and so I tried to fight
against his words.
But I barely had enough energy
to lift myself out of the chair.

My father told me they're
going to take me away soon.
The doctors.
The men dressed in white.
To a place where I can
be healthy again.
It confuses me.
Because I am healthy.
They're the ones who are
wrong.
Not me.
I'm beautiful.

This is what beauty is.
Purple Book
Whitney Sep 2012
We are our own bias
Every moment of every minute of every day
Changes you and what you see
So how can we sit on our high horse
And be God?
Purple Book
Whitney Dec 2012
It's for the better.
This pushing away.
Even though it's the hard decision.
I can feel myself lift slowly,
from the muddied ground of
myself.
I'm becoming my own person again.
I make my own decisions,
and have my own opinions.
Because you're no longer there
to whisper in my ear.
No, you're not completely gone.
But the metal chains that once bound us,
are loosening as I pull
away.
Because the closer I get to you,
the further away I am from everyone else.
And I can't live like that anymore.
I can't live in my own bubble where all I think and
breath
is about you. Not anymore.
I couldn't bare another day,
to be alone.
Computer
Whitney Sep 2012
I'm scared of being a disappointment.
I'm scared of being vulnerable.
I'm scared of what people really think of me.
I'm scared of breaking your heart.
I'm scared of not being enough.
I'm scared of saying "I love you."
I'm scared of being complimented.
I'm scared of people smelling my breath when I don't brush my teeth.
I'm scared of using public toilets.
I'm scared of what parents say about me.
I'm scared of what teachers say about me.
I'm scared of the truth.
I'm scared of not having friends.
I'm scared of breaking the rules.
I'm scared of acting.
I'm scared of having regrets.
I'm scared of my past affecting my future.
I'm scared I'm not worth the trouble.
I'm scared of choking on a necklace in my sleep.
I'm scared of communicating deeply about my feelings with others.
I'm scared of doing something wrong.
I'm scared of not going to a good college.
I'm scared of talking about religion.
I'm scared of talking about money.
I'm scared of causing anyone unneeded grief.

But, I'm brave too.
Whitney Aug 2012
Am I really as beautiful
As you tell me I am?
That it is a sincere hand
Who wipes away my broken tears?
It's hard to believe in love
When so called truths
Burn so easily to unforgiving lies
After all my painfully long years
To trust again
Brings memories I cannot face
Battles I have lost
And decisions that can't be erased
So why do you try?
Firing your measly arrows
And scaling my infinite walls
Can't you see there's nothing left to love?
Purple Book
Whitney Sep 2012
So badly do I want
to be loved by another
Kissed tenderly and true
In someone to give faith
But how can we trust those
enough to give our hearts away
To say farewell and hope
the gesture will be honored
And not leave us with regret
So to take the leap
or wait out the storm
Is love worth searching for
When you're broken?
Purple Book
Whitney Dec 2012
I am suffocated by your love
Arms now constrict rather than protect
All you want is to be my everything
But I have more to live for than you
I am reminded every moment of your presence
even when you are not there
Eyeing watchfully over my shoulder
I wish I could tell you you love me as much as I
But in respect, I cannot lie
You are not a bad person, but a bad person for me
Ready to nestle down in to love
satisfied with what this is imminent to be
I'm not ready to be loved as much as you love me
Computer
Whitney Sep 2012
She didn't come home
Daddy says she never will
My mommy is dead
Purple Book
Whitney Jan 2013
A wish that started so feeble
To do all things I was able
To cross the finish line of expectations
and keep on running.

But now after succeeding success
and excelling that again
I do the things I do
to protect the others

So they won't know the feeling
of having to be everywhere
at once
and not being able to.

To be expected by every superior
to be the best at everything
To step out and be the leader
because that's who you are supposed to be.

But to not only keep the others in the
blissful, peaceful, ignorant
dark.
I do it for myself.

Because there is nothing worse
than to disappoint.
Purple Book
Whitney Jul 2013
Do not hide your eyes
behind that loppy hair of yours
when the eyes are the key to the soul
and you won't allow anyone to look inside
how can you expect us to help you?
Computer
Whitney Sep 2012
Please don't call me beautiful,
or say that you love me.

I don't wan't to be fed lies.

Because words are forever;
you can't take them back.
And one day you won't
love me anymore.
My beauty will fade
in your shiny blue eyes.
So I must send you
away.
Tell you adieu.
And pray I never hear
those unforgiving words again,
because one day,
I might believe them.
Purple Book
Whitney Aug 2013
I can not voice or write
What it feels like to be betrayed by
The man you trusted mor than any
Human being in the world

You watched yourselves grow old together
In your dreams
You named your future children together
You faced the world together and
That was the only thing that mattered
Being hand in hand

No distance was far enough our fingers
Could still grasp at each other
At the idea we would matter to one another
Forever

Forever is shorter than we think
Especially on the day we grow up
And realize what they've been telling us all these years
Love
Love is a lie
And if it is real it is sly and mischievous
Unforgiving and unkind
It blows my mind how people can
Lie and
Lie and
Lie
Lie
Lie
Lie
Every words of trust
Every moment of vulnerability will only ever be rewarded with
Disappointment
In another for letting you down
In yourself for being naïve enough to believe it could have ever ended different.
Phone
Whitney Feb 2013
I struggle
between believing in the good in people
when there is very little good left to be found.
Somewhere deep down,
in that much-too handsome chest of yours
you must understand not only your wrong-doings
but how to avoid them too
Why must you fall back in to your own trap over
and over again?
I see the beauty
not only in your face but behind your eyes
The sparkle of good so hard to find
I wish I could help you
escape this cycle
this ditch you can't dig yourself out of
let you see the good in who you are
that you're better than what you think you
must settle for
I hope
I hope so much you give me the chance
to show you
Computer
Whitney Jan 2013
You never realize how quickly things can end,
until they do.
Computer
Whitney Jan 2015
Wake with me in the early morning
when the breeze rustles over our slumbering selves
cooing at us gingerly from afar as if
we were newly born-tender and soft
awake in an unfamiliar world

Explore with me
childlike in curiosity and wonder
let us map the curves of our skin with the breathe of gentle fingers
whisper forgotten secrets down the length of our bodies
until we are nothing but shivers and sighs

Drink with me
let us taste the bitter remnants of our adolescent memories
swallowed down like pills unsweetened-
with morning coffee and stale toast
kiss them away until they are ghosts hanging in the draft
Whitney Jan 2013
War is everywhere.
Not only among our countries, but
in our communities, our schools, our homes.
From the bully down the block,
to the programs on our televisions,
it's everywhere.
But no one else seems to see it.
In a matter of two weeks
I witnessed mall shootings in Oregon,
attended a funeral to a man I knew,
along with hundreds of other people
to support a family who's lost.
In Conneticut, family after family was left
broken,
because of the missing pieces
starved,
of love from someone who wouldn't come home,
robbed,
of any sense of safety ever again.
And we,
all of us,
sit idly by
guns in the nightstand of our bedrooms,
gory video games consuming the lives of
children. Young, innocent children.
It makes me so sad to watch this all happen.
To hear all these voices, asking for change,
but no action.
Computer
Whitney Sep 2012
Darkness, please hide me in your cloak,
Enwarp me in your slimy strands
Suffocate me til' I choke
Don't let the prying eyes of sunlight see
The damage it has done to you
The ravaged scars it has branded in me
For the light is not safe anymore
It is the demons that protect us
Not the angels who soar
So, Darkness, hold me tight
Because there's nothing left,
Not even love, in the light
Purple Book
Whitney Jun 2013
The man looks sympathetically in to my eyes
I do not want this man to watch me cry
He does not mean to be a bother
Not many people know what to do
with a girl without a father
It's hard to care about his feelings
when you can identify your own
only by the black tears soaking your face
the ragged sobs the only noise filling the air
But I don't care because what much else is there to do
when your father dies besides cry
The man makes a noise
a squeak of a thing
I would think him weak but how am I in the place
to say that.
My gaze is probably less than comforting
The sight of me is much more likely troubling.
"Would you like," he says, "some company? A member of
the family?"
What family
"A friend to
talk
to?"
How does he expect me to talk
when I can't breath?
Gasping gasping gasping
I can't read his expression through my tears
I can only interpret through my ears
Talking does not appeal to someone who's life is-
who knows what it is.
I part my lips
fighting off fits of rage and tears
ready to spear his feelings
No I deserve to endeer this alone
I don't need to burden others with my fears
my tears my sorrow my guilt
I built this whole life only for someone to

tear

it

down

Why drag someone else along with me?
"I"
choke
"I want"
choke

*I don't know what I want.
Computer
Whitney Dec 2012
What am I doing?
Am I throwing him away?
Am I scared for someone to love me,
when I believe there isn't anything to love?
Loneliness can drive a person mad.
Is there someone there to love you, when no one else does?
Does that person really exist?
In a world where cruelty is accepted as
normality.
It hurts more to believe than to accept.
Computer
Whitney Sep 2013
Traveling in a sea
Of heads and bodies
Not sure where I'm going but
Hoping I'll get there

I'm just me
And there are 7 billion mes so
How special am I really?
Just another face in a crowd
Wandering around
Another me in a sea of mes

Hoping I'll get somewhere.
Phone
Whitney Jun 2013
Your desire
entices me like
fire
running through
the rusted pipes
of my shower
water
has the power
to lift civilizations
or destroy the
earth
beneath them
cracking dry
thirsty or drowning the
air
doesn't care
it can do nothing but carry
the seeds of an idea
over the
earth
across seas of
water
until that idea
burns like a
fire
traveling through
generations not
only space but time
something we
cannot touch
but feel
don't quite understand
but assume we have a
hand on until
it runs away
from us

But like my love for you
It always returns
Scratch Paper
Whitney Oct 2012
Love
it's hard to know
when it hits you
it's not like a
bullet in the chest
but more like a
flower

As a bud you
don't notice it
as much
walk by without
another glance
though slowly as
the flower blooms
each petal curving
beconing the sun
to pool in it's
creases
you notice it more
when you pass it by

The hues are brighter
the petals melt
one in to the other
painting this picture
you can hold in
your hands
now you can't help
but stop and stare
the flower that was
once a mere bud
you didn't know
was pregnant
with life

Love is like
a flower
You don't realize
it's beauty
even though it's
been there
all along
Purple Book
Whitney Sep 2012
I want to help you,
by kissing away your tears,
embracing your sorrow as my own,
and carrassing away your doubts.

I want to help you,
by giving you my scariest secrets,
my most mortifying embarrassments,
and the memories closest to my heart.

I want to help you,
by giving you a shoulder to cry on,
a person to shout insanities at,
and someone to keep you company
as you fall asleep.

In this time of sorrow,
there's not much I can offer.
But understand the kindness I wish to give,
and the love it holds.
Purple Book
Whitney Jun 2013
I want to love someone who will travel the world with me
I want to love someone who will take bubble baths with me
I want to love someone who will burrow in blankets and sweaters
who will read the night away with me
I want to love someone who drinks tea
I want to love someone who chooses to smile instead of frown
I want to love someone who will laugh instead of cry
but when they do cry, my arms will be the first to embrace them
I want to love someone who thinks the world is beautiful
I want to love someone who loves chocolate
I want to love someone who is content waking up to the same girl every morning
I want to love someone who will hug me from behind
I want to love someone I can fall asleep on
I want to love someone who will embrace me at any moment
at every moment
I want to love someone who finds the simplest acts of daily life,
the most romantic things in the world
I want to love someone who needs to be loved
I want to love someone who doesn't believe they deserve to be loved
I want to love someone who's my best friend
I want to love someone who makes me feel safe
I want to love someone who loves me
Computer
Whitney Nov 2012
I would sit in front of a computer screen for hours,
just to see your blurred face,
and here the whispers of your words.

I would stay up til' 2am,
to call and tell you Happy Birthday,
so you could wake up to the sound of my voice.

I would learn to play your favorite song,
and sing it while I play,
on an instrument I've never touched.

I would reminiss in the few, but precious,
romantic moments we once had,
so many months ago.

I would make up bedtime stories,
of princesses, knights, and Nyan Cats,
to give you sweet dreams at night.

For you, I would do anything.

No matter how far away, I think about you every day.
No matter what I say, your name will always appear.
No matter how long it takes,
for us to meet again,
I will be there.
Computer
Whitney Jan 2014
I just want to bend together like a jigsaw puzzle
Lose track of which leg is yours and which arm is mine
I'm fine if I don't remember everything when I wake up
as long as when I do you're there, someone's there to
watch over me. Take care of me and pretend like
whatever I did the night before will cease to exist
that I will continue life pretending whatever last night was
didn't happen.
Because that's the beauty in those nights
when you lose track of it all when you let your mind fall
and you pretend and hope someone might catch you
and for a moment they do
they hold out their hand and you feel their fingertips
slip through your hair just long enough for you to feel that they're there
and then you hit it. You wake up in the morning and live your life
like nothing ever happened. Like nothing ever did happen.
And sometimes it's sad to forget.
But the most beautiful things were never meant to stay.
Computer
Whitney Jun 2013
I search and search every day
for that little boy who will play
the strings of my heart like
his favorite guitar

He says his dreams will take him far
as his lips press lightly
on the nape of my neck
He would trek 1,000 miles

just to make me smile
because he says I'm the only
thing that matters much
anymore

His past is pained but
that doesn't mean it has to mame
his future
FAME is not what he wants

His maturity never ceases to amaze me
A beautiful contrast to his constant
childlike ability to add light to any room
or give a smile to any star

It's sad that he won't go as far as he'd planned
I must condem him to memory
his freckles and the feeling of
running my fingers through his hair

It isn't fair that he was never there
in the first place
Notebook/Computer
Whitney Aug 2013
Cut cut cut away
I don't feel the decay
Of my emotions or feelings
I much prefer the numb
Burning.
Amazing how its supposed to hurt
Crimson tears drip thick from my
Escape
I'm trying to escape but it's not working
It hurts I feel it
What happened to being numb?
Ow ow its pulsing its burning its ringing
My ears are ringing
Goodnight goodnight
That's all that's left
A body and some blood
That's all that's ever left
No story no memories
Not a word to our name
To a stranger we are all the same
Someone who could have lived a little bit
Longer
Phone
Whitney Sep 2012
Sound is everywhere
Except in my ears
Faces pass me by
But there's nothing to hear
Children laugh
and babies cry
All I can do,
is envy them and sigh.
"It's lonely,"
my fingers tell them
desperately dancing for attention
hoping the onlookers will understand
the words I try to tell them
All I can think
is it really isn't fair
I am labeled as
An Outcast
people could less then care
though they try to be nice
It's like playing a board game
Without any dice
Still, I continue on
living in a shiny glass case
While the others stare at me and gawk
As if there's a mute alien in my place
It's so very lonely
the life that I live
It's amazing anyone can stand it
I hope I'll be one of the the ones
Who did.
Purple Book
Whitney Aug 2012
There's not enough room
to tell you how I feel
There's not enough emotions
Left for you to steal
There's not enough stories
That could make you a better man
There's not enough that
You can understand
There's not enough heartbreak
To kneel over in tears
There's not enough forgiveness
That can ease all those years
There's not enough love
For me to try to repair
There's not enough left
For a friendship to be there
Black Book
Whitney Aug 2012
I don't see you
You don't see me
We are the same person
In different bodies
Yet we look through
The same eyes
And choose to see
The same things
Exact to a point
Likes and dislikes
The easy stuff is true
Decisions are different
But for me
Or for you?
Which one makes
The right ones?
Which one does
The wrong?
Do decisions divide us?
Are we not each other?
Spitting image
Identical
That's what it's supposed to be
But in alternate worlds
How similar can we be?
Purple Book
Whitney Aug 2013
The world is not meant to be seen as what it is, but as what it has the potential to be.
Phone
Whitney Sep 2012
I want
Every song on the radio
to be about you and me
But the problem is
I haven't found you

Yet.
Purple Book
Whitney Mar 2013
The best kind of love,
is giggly love.
The kind that makes you
never want to separate.
To cling limb on limb every
moment
you are together.

The kind of love when every
second
is an opportunity for laughter
so that your vision goes blurry
and body goes numb

The best kind of love
is when you're together
and no one is ever cold.
no one is every lonely.
and no one ever gets lost.
When you're together
and suddenly you're not an I
you're a we.

The kind of love when
every moment
is the perfect moment
to giggle.
Computer
Whitney Aug 2013
I fell in love with our story,
and I thought I fell in love with you too.
The best love stories can take you anywhere,
even places where you were never meant to go.
I'm so, so

**sorry.
Computer
Whitney Jan 2013
So surreal how your future can change
in a moment
So few words that mean so much
Enough to erase the facade I once
lived beyond
hidden to the reality that is true to be
Lonely, I am now
that is the price for the future I
seek
Computer
Whitney May 2013
No one has ever broken my heart.
Most would say that’s a gift,
but I am not sure.
Maybe it is not that my heart has been broken
but I’ve never let myself be close enough to anyone
for it to be broken.
At night before I sleep
I think of what would happen if I were to be
*****.
If my parents were to
die
suddenly. If
I were to die.
What would happen?
Would I be able to take care of myself,
or would I wither away? Who would I become?
Would my friends care? Which ones?
Maybe I feel unloved, but I don’t.
I have so much love in my life that I can’t give.
I receive but cannot replicate.
I feel it but can not find the place in my heart to give it.

Feeling alone in a crowded room.

That’s what it feels like but
in my own mind.
These thoughts that drain me while I sleep
they’re the awkward goth that sits in the corner at prom,
trying so desperately to fit in but refusing to
sell themselves
to the pink dress.
The rest of the thoughts wonder why they’re there.

I have these thoughts not because I’m depressed or
lonely.
I think I think these things because I’ve convinced myself
I want them.
Disgusting isn’t it? To want the amount of suffering I do.
I hope somewhere it’s not the suffering I want but the
emotion.
The state of being overpowered by emotion to the point where
you can’t function.
Where every choice is the product of an emotional
whiplash.

I see these people who suffer in pain. But I’m strange
because I do not see it as horrible I see it as
beautiful.
Their suffering is beautiful because it is a level of intencity
I cannot feel.
A level of emotion that I hunger for but can not reach.
I don’t know why I want this.
Maybe I feel numb, but I don’t really know.
Maybe I speak words to fill the air. Fill the time.
All those words that are safe, they’ve become
boring.
I want something more to say, more to feel than just the daily shpeal,
even if it means pain.

I do not think I am depressed.
I do not know what I am.
I’ve never met anyone like me before.
Maybe I am
alone.
Maybe everyone feels like me but they keep quiet for fear if they speak
they’ll be condemmed to live their life in a
white jacket.

The world is ******* up.
I am the girl who wears pastels then
talks back to the teachers.
Gets straight As but hangs out with the kids who
smoke *** at lunch.
Who is that that you know?
No one.
I want to help those who I don’t think need help,
because society says there is something
wrong
with them. But what if they’re the one who are sane
and we are the insane?
Maybe we’ve been manipulated to think we are in control but
we’re not.
They are.
The ones on the streets and in the straight jackets.

Insanity is the highest level of intelligence.
Computer
Whitney Dec 2012
I met a boy. A beautiful boy.
Every moment I had to spare,
was spent digging, searching for his face.
His beautiful, handsome face.

He had a personality to match
this handsome face.
Jokes fell easily from his lips
and to the cracks in my heart.

Never did he leave my mind,
and on our parting day,
I cried a tear for every cherished moment we shared.
Too many and not enough.

But now as the land divides us,
the ditch in my heart grows wider,
deeper,
******* in every last hope of us meeting again
like an malicious black hole.

I wish I could forget,
what real love feels like,
innocence is bliss.
Computer
Whitney Jan 2015
And then there was *you.
Whitney Apr 2014
I desire the sighs that escape your lips
high pitched almost feminine
let me entice them from your body
lips grazing over parched skin

Why would God label such as a sin
Whitney May 2013
The sink is dead.
It’s covered in red.
I watch it swirl
like a Christmas mint.
Never really liked mint much.

I don’t know why
the sink decided to die.
Maybe it’s because all
it does is cry and cry
like me.

The room is getting hazy,
and the razor in my hand
feels lazy.
I’m stumbling falling
down, down down.
The sink weeps tears of scarlet

I don’t know why you are crying, Sink.
You got your wish,
I got mine.
I’m fading now, so quietly.
Your tears are wetting my face.
Or maybe they’re mine.

Goodbye, Sink,
these are my final moments.


Maybe

it would have ended different somehow.

Maybe

next time someone will help you.

Maybe

next time someone will help me.
English 8
Whitney Sep 2012
The winter winds quietly blow
As we sit together in the melting snow
Exposed skin numb and flush
We roll around making angels in the slush
Eyes shiny with childhood dreams
We go inside and look outside through the screens
Layers shed, bellies stuffed with sweets
Our hearts thump softly, in sync every beat
Purple Book
Whitney Aug 2013
If I could ask for one thing in my life
One thing only
I would wish
that one day I will fall in love
with someone who loves me back

whether it is born from the darkest
coldest depths of sorrow
when winter is every where
and trees hang above you like a
bad oman

whether it is when you least expect it
in your favorite coffee shop
or the one you've never been to before
hunched over a computer screen like
the workaholic you know you are

whether it is in the most romantic place
in the world
on top of the Eiffel Tower
arguing over an engagement or
a birthday

it doesn't matter
as long as we both
love deeply and strongly
as long as we are best friends
partners in crime
as long as every moment together is
cherished

no matter how long we have.
Please, let us love unconditionally.
Computer
Whitney Jul 2013
What am I supposed to do with you?
With your kind blue eyes
that twinkle in the dwindling classroom light?
I do not understand why
you pretend not to cry
when you sit alone on the front steps.
If I can guess I'd say there's a mess
inside your mind.
There's good inside you
I know it's there.
It's just trying to find it's way out.

You make me so happy
like not many others do.
I do not have to laugh to
hold the conversation.
When I'm down I cannot frown
when I trace the outlines of
your unblemished face.
You believe in the impossible
or at least pretend you do.
I can do anything when I'm with you.

So maybe we need each other
in a way.
You need someone to
tell you it's okay
to be imperfect.
I need your
childlike dreams
the ability to always
believe.

I'm asking you please,
step out of your comfort zone and
see what I see.
See your beauty.
Find beauty in me.
Maybe it will be worth it some day.
Computer
Whitney Mar 2013
Can't you see
That person who lies
in the **** of the earth?
The one who's eyes
shamelessly share their tale of misery?
You are the same
You and he.

In our fight to survive
we've let others fall behind
left them in the dust when all it took
was to pick them up
brush them off
and ask them to come with us.

But instead greed took over
No longer did we want to survive
we wanted to succeed
Live in excess and luxary
even if that meant
leaving old friends in squaller

What happened that made us so selfish and
cruel?
That we can't give a dime for the hungry to have food?

Wishing won't make these problems dissappear
Action is the only way to help those who've chosen not to hear
the cries of those who's stomachs never silence

How can so many be oblivious?
Can't you see they're really us?
One mistake, one wrong answer
The right place at the right time
That's all it takes
The flap of a butterfly's wings
and suddenly it's you who's stomach sings

History erased. Stories respoken to tell a
different tale.
Lives traded, their kindness will prevail.

But the question remains
Would you do the same?
Tomorrow, the next
when I am not here to tell you my tale
Will your head fill again
with false ignorance?
Will the sorrow of starvation
become silent to your ears?

If so, lead with your heart and not your head
Because when you're dead and gone
Let your legacy live on
As someone who did something.
Purple Book
Whitney Jun 2013
When people look at me,
I do not know what they see.
Do they see confidence
and a clear state of mind
The kind that could not be altered
by minor falters in life
A personality owned by a sense
of audacity no one's willing to challenge
nor mention should change

or

Do they see the insecurity
I hide I
pretend isn't there
because it's not fair
to drag down others with the way I feel
Never do I want others to see me kneel
to oceans of emotions
waves crashing inside my skull
my mind is never dull
always fighting who I'm supposed to be

And who I am
Notebook/Computer
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