Poems Shorts pt 2

Warped Mask


It hurts to be trapped in someone i'm not

To be lost in the dimensions of a facade.

To lie behind my lips, and nobody can tell the difference.

It makes me sick to twist my heart,

And split open my mind,

But stitch my skull shut so it all stays inside.

I need a release that can pull me from behind this warped glass.

But I no longer wish to rely on pain, 

To set me free from the mess I've made.


Stream of Consciences


I don't know what to say except that i'm lonely, but people don't seem to understand me,

And i'm too scared to be myself anyways, and i'm trapped in this thing called “reality,”

Where I live through my eyes instead of my mind, I try to follow my heart but i’ve severed its ties, i'd say i'm writing this through my tears, but that'd be a lie, I don't even think its possible for me to cry, sometimes I feel my bodys made of stone while my soul is on fire, and i'm trapped in a world that is not mine…


Complicated Feelings


Sometimes I feel for a man's protection.

Their firm grips, and tough love.

Calloused hands,

The acts of pretence, but needy souls.

Other times im drawn by the soft curves of the female physique,

And tender hearts.

The smooth skin, and gentile touch,

Powerful thighs, curved waist.

Slender fingers, petite face.

It seems my hearts divided between comfort and strength,

What a thing to crave something so often considered a sin. 




Mamma painted the door blue, but I'm still seeing red.

Drown me in cool colors, but i’ve still visions in my head,

I can't really explain.

Want to scream or run away, punch the walls make em cave, 

If I peeled the paint from pictures, tore till i shredded my fingertips,

Would I find myself underneath? 

If I stripped off my skin, would I see my soul?

Even if you paint the walls blue, they are still red underneath.

After all, isn't that what I've done throughout my entire existence?

Covered red with blue?


Pillow Thoughts


If you picture the world like the sky

Millions of people, the stars, identical, yet so different.

Tiny specks of warmth that go unnoticed

Until you need direction, until they fall, until they erupt.

Sometimes I can't help but wonder

If the sky is really just our reflection. 


Regressive Behavior


I just want comfort. 

to feel safe and carfree.

Pillow forts and sippy cups,

Teddy bears, pacifiers, mac’n’cheese,

Weighted blankets, fitted sheets, footed onesies.

I don't want to grow up,

I want time to stop,

So I can color outside the lines,

And not be judged. 


Real Life Daydreams


You call my daydreams imaginary.

But to me, they are real.

Though they may not exist in your reality,

They do in mine.

We see the world through very different eyes,

Mine tend to look more inward then outward.




I wish to live in a world where I never have to explain.

When I want to be a boy, I can be a boy,

When I decide im a fairy, no one criticizes my wings,

When my words become a stream, nobody builds a dam to stop them

When I choose never to speak again, I'm not asked why.

I wish I could switch my identity as quickly as my mind,

Without any questions.

Everyday I am a different person,

But every day I'm expected to wear the same skin. 


Fight, Flight, or Fawn


What does it really mean to be strong?

Because I can care for all my loved ones,

Even when my heart walks outside my body.

I can tred a thousand miles, 

Despite the path being paved with knives.

I can carry the sky on my shoulders,

And ignore the fact that my back is breaking.

With my insides torn, and my soul in pieces,

I swallow my tears and continue to smile.

But if this behavior is driven by fear,

Is it still considered “strength?”




Its hard when everyone seems to live in a box

And try as you might, you don't seem to fit with them.

You don't connect and relate to others as you should,

So you're left floating in your own little bubble.

I want to be with everyone else

But you can't fit where you don't belong.

At least the trees speak my language,

As do the flours, rivers, deserts and sky.

Still sometimes you wish for someone of your own kind.


The Void


I don't like living in a body

But not feeling like I'm a part of it.

Like the skin I wear

Was not meant for me, but stolen.

Sometimes I wonder if I were to cut open my flesh,

Would there be anything inside?

Sometimes I ponder

If it's even possible for me to die.

This poem is about: 



Very heavy feelings, the fight within yourself is strong. The poem is a little long winded and basically reiterate your same feelings in a different way. But i can feel your frustration with life and the struggle within yourself. You put yourslf out there for all to see. Will they leave you alone or will you let others in to help you to understand yourself?

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