Wake Me

Wed, 04/06/2016 - 16:15 -- BelBell

there’s this idea, tucked in the corner,

only to be touched in times of need or anger or despair

kept under a blanket of hope

the intangible becomes tangible 

and what cannot be seen is seen. 

through those long nights of tears 

through those long nights of heavy breathing,





it lifts me into the sky when i’m pounded to the ground

it creates dreams of wispy clouds and beautiful trees

I Can Be


the idea that 

somewhere, anywhere,

I Belong.

no matter how many times I feel as though I don’t

I Do. 

people see the outside, quiet and barely alive

but the idea lies dormant to be awaken in the right place

at the right time 

i will hold the idea, cradle it, love it. 

if it dies, i die

when it wakes, i will wake from the eternal slumber; the only thing i have known.

i will be born again, into who I know I am meant to be.

This Is Not Me, 

it’s nearly my being, waiting for something better

someplace i can be free and me

one day, it won’t be an idea, but 


This poem is about: 
Guide that inspired this poem: 



Pretty much sums up high school.

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