I Am a Mouthful of Metaphors

For many years I was "crazy"

Labeled by ignorant adolescents

Who interpret sadness as insanity.

But how thoughtful they were 

To inform me of my worth.

They were so goddamn funny,

Their tongues two sided swords, calling me honey

But they stepped up to malice,

Offered me a gun, as a challenge

To what the genius' defined as

A plea for attention. 

Oh, they were so blind

Every boligerant word made a deeper slit

The proof was right there on my wrists.


Next, I was a "bitch"

Because a woman who holds her ground

Instead should hold her tongue. 

At least the air

Was still in my lungs.


And then high school came

All young women are labeled the same.

We're no longer ladies

Only porcelain dolls, objects to collect

Items for sex.

But I am more than this;

They just want your name on their list.

You say let's just take things slow,

You say louder, NO

He is angry, he is rude...

And now, I am a "prude"

Because I won't get nude.

You people make me distraught

For all mankind.

I am whatever I can dream up

In my mind.


I am more than 

these labels that don't mean shit.

I am beautiful,

With a killer wit.

If they tell me to stand, I will sit

For I am a poet;

I am different and I know it.


I am my favorite bands,

and unmarked lands. 

I am hell fire;

An honest liar-

A moutful of metaphors

That kick down doors.


I am unearthly, 

Only art and cosmic nature

Strokes of paintbrush and danger.

I am a blink-of-an-eye-eternity;

heavenly fury.


I am the roaring fire

They so wish to extinguish

{b r i l l i a n c e}

The loud laughter in libraries,

The secret truth of diaries.

I am the pen marks of a proofread

I am the caged bird, freed.

The underrated flute overcome 

By the brass blast of trumpet thrum.

I am a beautiful weed pulled from the garden,

Just shy of their targets.


I am the thorn that draws

The rose red color

From your ocean blue veins

Proving that everything 

Is never as it seems.


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Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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