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the mirror a place filled transparency he said but i saw it a place of refflection looking through self seeing the personality we created
She wanted you, but she needed something else not for herself though so she did what she knew best she let her wishes go she choose the need and she did get it she should be happier-a bit
  at the edge of the world I stand and take in the spray of waves on my face the expanding sky   at the edge of the ocean I wait for a sign
It is not because you miss, crave, or yearn for something  that it comes to you  It is because that something misses, craves, yearns for you  that it comes to you.
The thick grey clouds rise revealing baby blue sky underneath A new warmer breeze blows spring scent fresh, welcome, healing I am filled with new promise  hope, courage, compassion for myself
An earthquake inside me Rumbling my core Shaking never ending Pieces of me fall  down  and down The Core is buried
You must change You're doing yourself a favor Your life is a story Your voice is the narrator Life is what you make it Create your reality Don't speak negative
Beauty is perpetually imperative to your existence.   You pride thyself on the fact that you can view even the ugliest things as beautiful and groundbreaking,  Every wilted flower has thrown new seeds, 
There is a weakness in me. A small glint  of a child not yet grown.   It lives in me, And everything I am; everything I do.
Frost encumbered yet sitting in the sun the green grass glows.   Beautiful to the world but look inside, its heart froze.
It is a transcendenceof space and time.A place to dieand be bornand liveand learnand lose and gain.  
The hate. It rages; burns my shackles to reality until I am no longer bound.   So I whither and shrink and hide, like an arachnid,
Sculpted hammer of divinity comes down, and My skull is cracked and leaking Adorned by a veil of mourning glories in full bloom Laced, tethered stems joining at the base Soft gentle petals hugging
Heat and terror in a crowd As prone to spreading as a local disease of the mind Or a regionally misconstrued concept in society
You cannot define me. I am but a petalless flower, a bud, sewn shut with transparent thread. I exist in a reality unlike the one you know, a reality I created within my soul,
Driven by the moon Though I'm sustained by the sun I find some refuge in believing God will hold me when I'm done
Does anyone else feel like I feel? Like one minute my world is full of light and I have this fire under me that guarentees love, happiness, success
honeysuckle lips   almost touching mine, but not quite   they drip below   the crook of my nose,   slide down,                     down,  
I roll a blunt and sink deep in my thoughts. I smoke a blunt until I get rid of all of my thoughts. Clouds of smoke then I feel nothing at all.
The road not taken, The path that I thought lead me, astray yet, here I am. here, I’ll stand— my heart in my hand, my soul attached by strings, my mind tacked by tape and glue—
Make it stop. The rasping of my heart. The uneven breathing that manages to escape. I don’t like the dark. As the rain slips from the roof, a soft pitter-patter. I reach out my hand—emptiness, is that you?
If I were a leaf on a tree..oh how would I leave leaving me..would make me laugh..leaving for you.. you think.. you says I to know.. leaving for free..says me..right now..I would leave me..
On these days at home, I am left with only myself. How blank everything feels when you can’t live in the world around you. The calmness unsettles me. There are no expectations to be vibrant and eventful.
We are taught In this life To keep breathing To continue with moving motion Of our hands correlating with our feet parading helplessly through the streets of wherever it is we call home.
Trees, thousands of years old Monoliths of perseverance and life Great behemoths standing tall Never giving in to all that assails them Nor overtaking all that surrounds them Me, only decades old
Like snakes shed their skin, I shed my self doubts through creating; detail by detail, inch by inch,  I turn thoughts phyiscal, I am translating when I immerse myself in each piece;
on my chest below my neck ornaments on my body i don’t remember asking for they decorate me but i seldom feel like art
I come from women Who prefer not to smile. From witches and warlocks And spirits, I come from the vampires that roam the streets
She was born of woman as a word, swaddled in question marks but cooed with answers - statements of soothing reassurance
Tell me why my grip on my purpose always slips. Sometimes it gets too much and I don't know how to handle it.
Love yourself and everything falls into line. Love others and let your light shine. Have a nice day and make the world bright. Make sure every day feels like a glorious flight.
I’ve considered putting my hair Into a ponytail when I’m sleeping Because my hair not soft against my Cheek and gets in my eyes and is Hot. I’ve also considered getting Another better-paying job. Both
Not all of us   get to be lucky.    Not all,  get to see the sun  every morning. 
I wish the color of my skin was a blessing in society's eyes. Just because I'm not freak'n pale. Maybe, if I was darker I would get more hate. I don't know much about football.
The sky was shining blue above, all the people one in love, it was almost as if they never heard of SELF
Is it normal  to want to die?  Is it normal  to want to cry?  Is it normal  to internally scream?  Is it normal to come apart at the seams?  Is it normal to hate 
From the distance, When the trees that obstruct, Are deconstructed, And the towers of steel, Are forced to kneel,
The Warrior in Truth is an artist.His sword, like a chord it plays death.His tune of destruction; at times it sounds staccato.On occasion, it’s a swirling crash of whistling fate.
And I’m back, once again at the drawing board. I know life’s a rollercoaster And I’ll have bad days, But I always find myself back here; Come with a headache, Write with a heartache
Growing up always seems lightyears away No kid ever realizes that in reality, it is right around the corner and here to stay Acquiring independence tastes bittersweet As the changes a child faces are quite a feat
A flashing of emerald trees fly by, Rusty brick buildings move just as fast, racing the trees. Sweat drips from a temple, down a neck,  Tangling with short streaky hair.
The Journey   Sometimes life feels so hard and heavy Maybe even sad. It happens... Maybe you take a drive to the top of a mountain - and get out and breathe in the air that
It’s when you sit down and your ass already hurts. The lamp shade remains crooked, but you put it off Until tomorrow and you start falling into that place; The place without walls, but filled with floaty feelings,
  there’s this girl i used to know. her name flows blue inside of me- she was so afraid to show, who she once was in front of me-  
My heart is heavy asking will I ever  be good enough for myself. When I look at myself why do I peer through my reflection like it’s nothing?  Like I am nothing. Even when I say I am good enough and 
Feel Free to Fail Me Because my life should be worth more than a letter on a page Feel Free To Fail Me Because my name shouldn't be worth more than who I am My name on a list My name on a degree
We are created without consent Given to those with supreme claim to us Molding us in the image they see fit Until conscientious, awoken from youth   We are expected to live with respect
Eleven ounces lighter, I stepped on the gas pedal, Eleven ounces lighter I had to push a little harder. Breathe.Leaving home was too easy. The goodbyes were only temporary. But, what made it difficult was leaving her.
I could never come to terms with how  you viewed me.    You’re so pretty.  You’re so capable. You have so much potential.   You said that to me the other day.  
Every day flying by numbly, Until the day I decided the numbness coincided with failing to forgive myself I went under it, over it, around it, but never through it because that is where
The expectations set out before me 
I am an empty vase Fill me with flowers And I cannot but be beautiful.
I fear that the cycle continues That poverty runs behind me for most of the race But always ends up the winner I fear that the cycle continues
I whistle a tune  unbeknownst to all subjugating aerodynamics take flight in the V, they quack no? I chose the letter G   I hum a melody that pricks the ears of Grays shall they
A is for Affirmative, seeking the positive in othersR is for Ravishing, an entrancing beautyT is for Terrific, so awesomeI is for Important, a valuable contributorS is for Sharp, always observant
I.   Every emotions we have has its colors Others were basically there to brighten Like happiness, always there to enlighten
I just want to die Just slit my wrist and then cry Time to say goodbye
Just like Father, With strength in my shoulders, Compassion in my veins, Others in my thoughts, I am one-track-minded.   Just like Mother,  With determination painted on my face,
"Compare yourself to you". "Look for your heart on your sleeve". Through the lips of my compass.
My savior, my soul, the seeping safety in which I have solemnly become so secure in the arms of my loved one who portrays themself to me in song.
  This New Earth The summer harvest Has been reaped To feed our souls. The last bounty gone To the dust of leaves, Clinging to the mother branch
This, a River This, a river, I am not lines but curves Winding around sand bars Creating islands  Revealed in low tide My current pulses life Tadpoles, carp, algae I smile in light
Without my glasses on, the world softens at about 10 feet.  Usually it feels Constricting, Confining, Claustophobic, But today, it is my happy tent of reality.
I write to you to praise you. For the way that you have hurt me in ways that cannot be described. They cannot be described because they were not out of malice,
Hey,   Remember that time you had your heart broken by that girl you first loved?                                                             Not an elementary love, but the real stuff
Darkness and isloation the only two things I ever used to know mind your business hold your head down don't let anyone know you are here you exist you take up space but that doesn't matter
Lead boots stomp,   Dust landing on nothing,  And everything all at once, Intertwined pieces of self,  No longer connected at the seams,  Unravelling persona,  Cracking through shaky wooden beams, 
quiet the voices quiet thequiet the voices.  
water wraps around my legs sticky with salt and bone numbing wisdom   my fingertips stroke murky clouds billowing across the sea’s glass
Remember that monster under my bed, Claws like a lion and six eyes on its head. That old monster creeping beneath me Always making me shout for my dad to go see. That monster who never did one bad thing to me,
They call me Medusa, a monster forgotten; and here? No katharevusa. The fickle-eyed ancient damned my life in a proxy fight; jealous? Of what, the rape of an innocent acolyte? The lust of a capricious potency,
I look in the mirror And do not recognize The reflection Which stares back at me directly. Who have I become? She is not who she once was
It taught me to write It taught me to read It taught me to want It taught me to need It taught me to rhyme It taught me to see It taught me to help It taught me to be  
There are two of me The first me – the real me – is a good kid Does what their parents ask, be nice to everyone, never push the limits The second me is a lost soul A body with missing pieces
You broke my trust   Now you've lost me I won't come back I won't call I tried And you lost me We won't talk We won't be friends You won't be anything to me You lost me
"Don't set yourself on fire to make others warm." Yet I carry matches in my right pocket at all times.
Break the bonds of doubt You are a slave to you, Change you To change your world, If you don't change your approach The outcome will not change. Break the bonds of fear You are chained to you
I don't know what I'm doing.  I don't know where I'm at. I don't know where I'm heading, And I don't know who I am. The earth beneath me is spinning;  I am here and now I'm not. 
I celebrate myself as I mourn myself. For days I cried, for days I wandered, lost. For days I was afraid, so afraid. So lost. So lost.  For days I rejoiced, life was so good.
When I was little I luxuriated in you Let your legs carry me up trees and into castles Past fire breathing dragons And over sidewalk chalk You danced me in ballet class With my head held high
Dear Future Sadie, I’m a big procrastinator The world is filled with amazing sights to see and sounds to hear and people to meet,
I, a deer in blinding headlights. Whirring wheels screech against the asphalt. Demanding movement but provoking frozen fear.  
Dear reflection, I am the lone sparrow that glides through the dead forest,  I am mute but yet I still speak.  A mockingbird that's tune falls on deaf ears.
Dear Reflection, I am the lone sparrow that glides through the dead forest,  I am mute but yet I still speak.  A mockingbird that's tune falls on deaf ears.
Dear hands, Stop shaking stop picking. I wish you'd be still and Stop scratching stop flicking.   Listen,
Dear pen,   We’ve been together for years Changing with the seasons And yet our character is still the same. Across thousands of pages,
Next year I will be able to look at you and see a distant memory All these broken pieces of you will be put back together Still cracked and fragmented But still one piece
Dear Future Self...I really hope that you are not theMe that I am now.The one who is too patientFor her own good.  
A twinkle in a kind souls eye,Lights smile with a single try.Sheepish grin, unsure of speach,A brush of hand, while just in reach.
  Pain and Sadness Joy and Glee, By these words you may know me, But is it I you truly know? Or just the me that I borrow.  
  We hold our Hope so close inside, Laugh with those who us deride, Our true person untouchable, While evils only scratch outside.   A blended mix of Pride and Fear
Upon reflection There’s a madness that resides Where an emptiness used to Thinking back on the kites that lead me by the wrists through the past
to my Self, you have always been, are, and will continue to be, perfect in your imperfections. You are human, and you are as beautiful as the cosmos.   to my Skin,
Dear Kemauri, Is it okay if I call you that?  I know you prefer Keke. Why is that? Have you let someone ruin your name for you? Has your past made you afraid of it? 
Oh, Dear Paper, Clean as God Crisp sheet of blinding white Why must you hurt me, so?   You wink back at me, mockingly
I'm the type of person who finishes all their homework on a Friday night so they can enjoy their Saturday. I no longer procrastinate. Some call me an overachiever and others call me a nerd. I'm a bit of both.
I am still while the world turns beneath me. The weight of my sorrow does not slow its spin, for soft words cannot calm a tumultuous sea.   I do not listen to the wind twisting the trees
Dear Past Self, I know what you’re expecting me to say. That it’s going to get easier and don’t give up. Or maybe That this is only the bottom of the mountain And you have much further to climb.
Pass that class Apply for college Gain more weight Still get acne Question yourself Question your morals Have regrets Forgive yourself Improve yourself Love yourself
Dear Future Self I hope you learn to love yourself the way you love others and I hope you never lose that power. 
Dear You,   This is my least favorite part of my day. I can never escape her eyes. And my body can never escape her judgments.   "Bent, broken, barbed" That's all she seems to say as her nails
I wish , I could be , With no one but me, Enjoying my company, Besides the rough sea. I rest by the shore, Below the palm shade, Mesmerized by the blue marvel, A beauty that ever would fade.
I'm like the sun  Beautiful with a bright personality You can't look at me long  You'll see my past that contains pain And you won't look at me the same  That's why I burn So your eyes shy away quick
I am not who I seemI am not a good thingI am million broken piecesI am an empty evil thingI am a wall built around myselfI am protecting the things hiddenI have a million different masks
I learned from my mistakes That my heart always aches Because I loved men Before I loved myself So now everyday  I dont turn away When I see myself in the mirror I stand tall and without a tear
Pick and Choose. This or That. What to do.   Choices, decisions, options.   What can we do? Where can we go? Who shall we be?
“Because I love you, you should stay.   You should ignore whatever they’ve told you. I love you, don’t listen to them. I know I hurt you.
I. Today I ran a 5K This body my body ran 3 miles despite years of me feeling inadequate because of it.
I had the privilege of attending a wedding the other day After sharing a conversation with the couple And being told that in the midst of all of the arguments
What perfect means to me Is no perfection at all. It means that you are clumsy, You are loud, You are quiet, You are graceful. It means that you are awkward, You are simple,
sometimes the world is so much I don’t even know what to write about it. but I still come one here every so often to tell the void about my paltry thoughts. Almost just to get the illusion of talking to someone
You gave me a gift More precious than material As far as I am concerned You gave me my heart ------- Months turn into years Sweet nothings turn to slander My mind starts to wonder
A quiet morning resonates a soul like stones dropped in clear water.
Snow White cannot fight Her soul’s become cold Like White Snow. She must go. Sharp memories like icicles Dangerously dangling
Something I like to remember when I need to cheer up Is that I was not a part of the plan I wasn't thought to be possible
Mom I am scared. I’m scared because I feel alone. I’m scared because she made me.
"As I arose from such an immersed slumber.   (I was knocked the fuck out)   My eyes were grappled with an abundance of ravishing sunlight    (the sun was shining bright as hell in my window)  
Who I am can only be described in words that have no syllables  and stories that never end. I was there in the garden,  under the trees, made from Adam. Born into life,  soul in my lungs, 
she dips her makeup brush in gunpowder instead of eyeshadow   because her mother was a soldier and her father was a poet,  
Today. Today I question myself Who is in my life? Who cares? and Who holds me back? The answer awaits     You see, for me to ask that I would need to understand myself What do I want?
    From the rolling commons of the countryside     To the vast expanse of the ocean,     To the comfortable domain of home
America the free But are we really free? Striving to contain a positive image Looking into the mirror Not many like what they see Remain a healthy mindset is what I strive to do
God I am frustratedNothing is as it shouldWonderful thoughts of flightBroken calls of worry
  My hands are weaving through your hair. My hands say soft. My hands are pleasure. My hands are pain.
Hello, My name is broken A heap of letters left on a tattered floor Shards of my identity, opaque from the settling dust   Hello,
I write because  if I didn’t you’d find me dead with a pen by my side.  I try to break free from the bones that control me,
"I cry salty tears for inside  I am an Ocean. So dark and deep not even monster make a commotion. But if you dare  to take a look you'll surely drown in  all the emotion."  
I’m fed up with feeling like I’m failing I’m fed up with shooting for the moon and landing in the mud   I'm fed up with the pictures, the size I’m supposed to be
I hope I hope I hope That someday I will not be afraid No I hope That I will be afraid but able
I’m from sunlight shining, Birds singing in early afternoon. The fortress beneath sheltering pine trees, Narrow paths I’ve walked a thousand times.  
A year is the blink of an eye That sheds a tear, That makes things clear. A lot can change, And stay the same.   As the eye opens And sees the light What once was a blur
"You're gifted; if only you'd apply yourself," he's told for eleven years. "They don't know me like I know myself." The boy loves but envies his peers. "No awards to be shown on my shelf,"
Lacking one's good sense strictly defines that I should hold on tight mine Seeing people pity on themselves  Knowing that they might need the Lord's help Oblivious to what is known Consequences postponed
You hurt me again It’s written on your skin Circling around your wrist As well as your arms and hips   The scars on your skin Would you stop if I paint my name over them? I prefer permanent pen
the damage isn’t done, we convince ourselves as we sit in a row on the curb sunken arms draped over our knees.   a hodgepodge congregation of prayers in vain, because who is there to ask
memes of bee movie and arthur's fist conservative politicians and twitter flips the land i am in deems a laughingstock while immigrants stir the melting pot. i dug the holes of the holy saints
Last year:  A girl learning how to draw Holding the pencil, Covering up the flaws.    This year:  A girl telling a story,  Rewriting the script, Her mind a lab'ratory.   
do you know how exhausting it was to rebuild what he had broke? the walls that he so violently tore down? the fire within me that he slowly extinguished? the shelter that left me stripped raw and helpless?
When you start you've got questions What is the end you have in sight? Do you cling stubbornly to dreams or Watch them when they leave like birds, Free as the wind and vibrant and alive
I want to tell myself that it makes more sense than it does:   A change in motion falling from lips like shifting oxygen inside of lungs that have finally stopped growing my voice
The sun rose and shone on my face through the window I threw myself out of bed and fixed my hair I walked up to my mirror and realized that I wasn't looking at my own reflection Her hair was a mess
I never really understood who I was Now more than even I still wonder who I am Yet I think before I had an idea or I thought I did Just in one short year I lost that part of me
The "Looking Glass Self" says that how others view us is how we view ourselves. It's amazing to think that we see ourselves through the eyes of someone else.
A toast to the New Year, the three of us here, The three muskateers, and together we are strong, Our bond is forever, our cause greater when we belong Brace, for winter is upon us, anticipate the loss,
2016 January, the new year started.                I still kept to myself. February, the days became colder.                 As I became to be. March, I met my best friend. 
It feels weird. Standing along the walls. Watching everyone have to go through it all. All the suffering and self exploration. I'm glad, a few years ago, i gave myself that explotation.
Stuff went down this year. I got an associates, and became a mom!
same old, same new. you look back  and boom. everything has changed. but where? you woke up the same as yesterday.   but   your hair is longer, your body is older,
My heart beats the same as ever My eyes see just as poorly My nose works just as well Yet I am different   When I roll out of bed late
I possess a queen-size bed but not a queen. Could it be an extensive wait for someone meant to be or the universe telling me that I am not fit to be a king? It's possible that I am merrily just a jester,
I believe that many say, time changes It molds, grows, shapes, scrapes, You  I, with tired limbs, heavy eyes, a crazy sleep schedule
A valuable year soars by, Opportunities and experience it provides. Yet a greedy year glides by, Toxic relationships and people it hides.  
Words flow like water, deep into the soil Conveying meaning from nothing yet planting our voices deep into the walls hearing the screams, spouting we shall fall inner demons do tell all..
Even the trees are more interesting than I, For their leaves change color. From glowing orange to bright red, They please any audience that drives by. An applause in the form of  a smile is what is recieved
Write what you know, they say. Write what you know. What do I know? I don't know how to trust (you can thank my dad for that) I don't know how to seperate dreams from reality
Years go by as they always do Some go fast, others slow, But never a year taken so long As this year's past. Changes occur as they always do. Some welcome, some not. Haircuts and new friends,
Today, I woke up.Yesterday, I ate toast.The Day Before That, I rode my bike.I don't know. The change between Today and Yesterday and the Day Before That are difficult to see.But if you asked me the difference between this year and the last?
Sometimes it’s like rain. It collects in the sky, with dark clouds gathering, Looming above you. You notice it, acknowledge it And feel it when it comes,
  20 years on earth I've made ton of sorry things like I've been soaked in the world of mistakes.   Not being an eye candy amazingly beautiful was a mistake
Packin bowls and all I smell is loud  My senses gotta be fucked Since when can I see sound? Dumbfound you have me  Bruh I'm Not so grounded can we 
This is what Autism looks like: A pretty girl with gap teeth and long brown hair Yelling to herself in different voices (Reciting memories, we think) -- A lively man who paces and moves his whole frame
She As In Me? - A Poem from "Her Deepest Witihins" novel coming soon.     
It starts with a feeling, the pinprick before the stab. Imagine a box. Stored in it are the most pessimistically intense feelings.
I was a little brat. I threw tantrums. I hit, bit, and scratched. I didn't care about others. I only thought about myself. I loved myself.   I am alone. I isolate myself.
  Like pink skies and red oceans, each day is so beautifully enigmatic Mystery and curiosity caress my day in a world so sorrowfully systematic A chance to touch and breathe ease me into sunrise and poetry flow
I don't want to stop you Please enjoy your time here Just know you are affecting me We are taking from eachother, in the time we have spent together.
What do I do when life gets rough,  when stress makes me feel like I've had enough? What I like to do is sit down and breathe, especially when I've found a good book to read. 
an open book of poetry lies half-read, half-abandoned because as a moth is drawn to a light, the amateur poet is drawn to thoughts of imminent failure   the knowledge of talent unfound, unpolished
I am a ghost of my own universe Observing silently as the world flies past Unable to speak Unable to act    Even when my entire existence Seethes and overflows with passion
It's not about loveIt's not about natureWhat invades our mindsWhat invades our lives. It's not about being the bestIt's not about being an artistWhat impacts us as humanWhat impacs us as beings.
Hello, my name is Pink. No, that does not mean that I adhere to your traditional views of what you think I am. It does not make me gentle. It does not make me sweet. Hello, my name is Pink.
At parties, I will do some freaky dances with calories cus I’m like nutella dark, chocolate, and nutty.  Yeah,  I’m not one to hide my love of food,  in front of you, I’ll demolish a 
I am not a poet   I am no poet I don’t craft images with my words Images of hope and healing   I am not a poet.
The beauty of the world has been masked with a false sense of acceptanceYou are designed In his favor and you aren't even smart enough to accept itWe simply continue to reflect on the irrelevant and neglect what's most import
You picture me behind the curtain, scheming with Oz. I wonder if when you see me, you greet the person you imagine me to be. How awkward that I have little resemblance to the ghostly image Which haunts me now.
I am a man, An American man of African and Hispanic descent, Our forefathers and foremothers frequencies suggest they are turning circles in their graves and pits. They dreamt of freedom and we enslave ourselves,
someone once told me that I matteruntil I multiply myself times the speed of lightthen I am energywhen I merge with he who mattersit becomes synergyit becomes clear to methat words mean nothing
Dear Midlife Me,   It will have been long a long, long time since you have written this. But if you exist if you are there please take but a moment to listen to me.
Life Taken By the Gun By: Miracle Strong   The rain began to pour As I walked across the shore His arms bleeding leading to his destination  
Here lies I, an open soul. Who just the other day were doing the same routine as we all did. Wake up, hygiene, eat, learn, sleep. Repeat I've never met someone who shared the same thoughts and goals before i met me.
I want to be crazy but I find that I am not There is order in my bones and fire in my eyes and enough sense in my spirit to burn a million bridges I lift up mine eyes to the hills and search them for signs of life
Brainwaves whir from corner to corner of my cranium,Causing me to think in a different key.
Oddly enough, I'm weird. At least that's what they jeered to my beard as they peered, while my honesty reared with confidence clear, and hints of fear.    At least that's what they said from their box
furious as I am, I searched for hope within my ravaging soul   believing that inside me, a speck still believes in life   thinking that beneath all these pain, my logic survives,  
A little giggle Soft and light   In the darkening night it comes out No one’s around I don’t have to be me I can be me
Like a ballet dance on blades,Your mind is a fickle thing. Relevé, going fully en pointeOn razorblades,Slice your sole to sorry shreds--So very fucking sorry. 
People talk about how opinions don’t matter but I think they do. I am united with my fellow poets as we embark on a journey leading us into deeper thoughts. You wonder what being a poet means to me, and I say everything.
Blink, and the delicate parachutes whistling             with white-spun dandelion seeds drift to form the rich parchment of             my thoughts,                         channeled  
Is it petty of me to not immediately name my family? Am I a bad person for not pointing out a friend? Is it a sign of not being humble enough that I do not whisper the name of God? Maybe I'm hateful? Maybe I'm frightful?
What I Can't Live Without
All I need is my sanity With my sanity, I have my peace And with my peace, I have my mind And with my mind, I can survive Because I, I waver sometimes.  
In the bleak and quiet horror of a concentration camp morning, Viktor Frankl asked them why. Why not throw themselves against The comforting hum of electric fences or onto swords like Brutus.
The very thing that'll drive me mad I will undoubtedly wish I had With the cerulean waves crashing on the cave This will keep me from my grave   What keeps me from my sleep
My decisions My thoughts Built into bricks of a wall so high No god could topple me down My integrity My principles
I struggle through that crowd That marches through the day; It’s rambunctious and loud— A chaotic parade.  
Your personality is a smile. You glow with it, beautiful with such imperfections.   
Lately I ve been distracted Writer's block so powerful Hands crippled aching with regret Turning to my temptations My soul, my creativity dies a little each time But now Im bac..I hope
Do I love myself? Do I hold my own dear? Do I wake up and live a life of no fear? Do I look in the mirror and see a queen? Do I look at my hands and feel machine?
Something lives deep inside me Something that hungers Something that burns Something dark and hot It smolders A rumbling deep inside When I grow cold and empty That’s when I feed it
It's morning It's just like any other day but yet somethings gone What it is it? Where is it? Why can't it be found?! It can't be gone It's frustrating Why can't it be found 
Emerald amber mixes in between the eyes that I stare into, and pray I am unseen. Glass fogs and the words appear to be smudged into my quaking fears. Nose curved like a bell
All I need is faith, trust, truth.   And all I need is self esteem, stability,
Yeah, I’m skinny what’s it to you? No, I’m not anorexic. No, I’m not bulimic either. No, I am not just skin and bones. I have a high metabolism, and I have a hollow leg that runs in the family.
This is me This is who I am In and Out This is where I stand A dark shadow that disappears Looking for Peter Pan Dreaming long and hard "I think I can" Become the President? Perhaps not
I am from the baracles from the bottom of  speedboat. I am from the waves from the breaking water th buoy floating from the safe zone.   I am from the broken sidewalks
I feel like a god is toying with me All my blood in my tears amount to Nothing and any effort goes to waste On anything and everything I want to Be successful at! The hand knocks down
Who am I? Questions ring inside my mind But I find no solution  Who am I?  Questions ring inside my mind  But I am still seeking a solution Who am I?
Who am I? Questions ring inside my mind But I find no solution  Who am I?  Questions ring inside my mind  But I am still seeking a solution Who am I?
There is something to be said about dragging dead weight through a claustrophobic hall way -every day- with nothing but the bags on your back
To define one self means to belong, To put what others think of you  Into your own words. I am what others cannot see. They say I am beautiful. They do not see my rough edges. Teachers say I am smart.
To seem is to know you are broken somewhere with a seam stitched tight with self-awareness, an attempt at positivity but knowing still where the rip once was and seeming fine is fine enough
I wield a fist that has shattered glass, leaving in its wake Shards strewn across the crimson splatter lining the sink where I weep sinking, sinking, sinking down into
Am I. Who I am Or is who I am, What I'm supposed to be? Do I conform to others,or do others conform to me? Do I try to fit in like a lock and a key?
of few things I am certain.  
I am perseverant.  They tell me I can't, I say I can and will. No challenge or obstacle is too great.  Even through the toughest trials, I will prevail and push through until I am succesful.
Am I the sum of my parts? Am I the sum of my interests? Am I the sum of what I have created?   As time moves on I find myself turning to this idea
I am, I am a thing, I am a thing that you can see But can you understand? Can you really know? What makes me beat inside? What makes me feel alive?   There's only one thing I can tell you:
I am modern art. People love to tell me what I am, What I stand for, And what I can never be. Like they have a clue Like they have the right to rape me with their Wikipedia-based art degrees.
my safe haven has always been the library, nestled among shelves upon shelves of beautiful, beautiful books old with new and new with old a mixture of the best and the worst of society,
If I don't know where I'm from, you ask, how will I know where I'm going? Fair enough. Here's my best answer: I am from a little boy crying because I turned his amoeba of green paint into a t-rex.
Who am I? possibly the hardest question because there are infinitely many answers answers that may contradict because I am not simple then I realize I am not an answer there shouldn't be a question, "Who am I?"
I am not I think I am...   I think I am small. I think I am inadequate. I think I am less than.   I am more than what U think I am...   U think I am a burden
So you want to know "who I am?" Well who I am, is more. It cannot be summed up in adjectives and traits. Who I am deeper than that.  I am MORE.
Right here, right now I wish my hands were magic, instead my touch turns to dust, and they can’t keep hold any more.  
My flower is wilting
Beauty is never a careful color Its an angry amber, a vibrating violet Courage is never a planned step Its a shaky bridge, a broken ankle Truth is never a smile and a wink Its a broken dream, a sober triumph
I am invincible.  
I am not a poem. Typed letters can take you to other worlds But not inside my head. I am as infinite as the universe As impossible to map as existence My body could fit in a refrigerator box
I Didn't Love Me   I didn't love me
Its not the clothes I wear the skin I’m in
I am the beat of my heart fighting the wind of the fan at two in the morning   the heartbeat is a reminder.   whenever I'm dead because of the thoughts that often pop up
Before I was, I had to come To the forefront of death, of life. And without any doubt of the from; I now exist amidst the strife. Without knowledge known to me yet, No pressures found or even cared
i'm nothing. i'm nothing but petrified wood nothing more than a hardened rock sitting in a grove of others just like me pointless and worthless. so i carve out arms hips
A rapid fire brain. Unceasing thoughts, Seemingly distant, Yet present. So very present. Immersed in the moment, But all caught up in a jungle gym of reverie. Too focused to be distracted.
He speaks so calmly  Quiet as a mouse he is He reminds me of my childhood fears So quiet, so distant, so beautiful  A creature of so much delight from afar I sit there and wonder why
At first, I thought I was a mix of my sisters.   They were complete opposites: One was cautious, one was reckless. One did well in school, the other struggled. One was popular, the other had few friends.
Please, your words are to much to swallow. Your stare pierces my soul. Don't bother to follow me. I cant bear your bad vibes. I feel the knots in my chest. You've never seen me at my best.
Everyone has a monster... that they hide behind their skin,Sitting and watching... just waiting in its den.Eventually the moment comes... for it to present itself,
  I’d like to think that I change often Or, evolve often. I become a brighter Smarter Stronger Version of myself  every day that I am alive  
You tell yourself again, firmly: This is not a symbol.
I don't know, for how could I? I am complicated, yet want to be simple No one can tell me who I am For even I can't decide I wish things wouldn't change For good ideas are left to hang.
Johnny came to visit when I was nine He only had the chance to just that one time He still smiled as often as he always did But his smile seemed almost crooked I asked him why that was and he said:
Johnny came to visit when I was nine He only had the chance to just that one time   He still smiled as often as he always did But his smile seemed almost crooked I asked him why that was and he said:
I am me  Sometimes I'm out going 
Here but never seen Hide behind the camera I am a coward   Stuck in a small world Yearning for new adventures
i don't want to be a piece of art 
  Life forgot my passion there And handed me the key; For what possesses better snare Of curiosity?   The key, ornate with golden leaves And “Carpe Diem” divine,
  Life forgot my passion there And handed me the key; For what possesses better snare Of curiosity?   The key, ornate with golden leaves And “Carpe Diem” divine,
        Why is life so complicated        with people playing hearts        for diamonds and digging        gold with spades willing to        club others for their gain?
You can be stoic or Mesozoic,Euphoric or prehistoric,A philosophic sage orA hot tropic age yetThe fossils of your past,In the striations of your heart,Unveil the truth at last—
Wily charms of erected façades placatethe dissimulated crowds of unreasonabilitywaiting to laud falsity to heights unwarrantedwithin this impossible dream-of-a-life covered by
Love blooms like pretty eyelashesunsuspecting fly landsvicious Venus snaps her preyrips him to shredssucks him dryheartlessa carnivorous plant! .
Like some monument to comfortyou shirk dutyyoustroll the reckless streetson some shapely saunter throughthe pages of a mystery novelyouwindow shop for marvels
  Such gallant knight  went down in flightsuccumbing to the shadow  lured to his death  by whisper's breathwhile seeking El Dorado.  Came the shade  within the glade
In cold varietal fashionWith stone-faced disregardShe sashays the runway of hungry eyesWith a made up heartAnd painted faceExposed to all in frilly laceThe cover under where she'll hide
I saunter throughthe vibrant copseto absorbI becomeverdantI ama treeplantedby the rivers ofliving waters. .
    Gathered together from greatest to poorest    thickets and meadows, a lush mighty forest.    Peace and great solace amidst the strong trees    broad leaf and fine needle they sway in the breeze.
    The rustic life, pastoral scenes,    the basis of idyllic dreams    the simple ways of nature come,    its harmony in total sum.    These country settings, warm and real,
I felt the burly city too,Of brick and horns and sirens,Of rusty metal and broken glass,Of monolithic stone reachingFor the underside of space,And despite the raw strength of it all
He thought he shared the universe with all;Heard many voices in response remandAn inundation—words unlike his call,From the desert-bare cliff across the sand.Some morning from the parched and thirsty ground
So many thingsI'd never doare done and that is allthese many thingsI hate I've doneare done—I can't recall;But if I couldgo back in timeundo what I have wrought,would it still
Fossil fashions,The relics of yesterday,I dig through my drawers.TV, radio, papers, people,A thousand words a second,A downpour floods my garden.The sun shines on all,
I shake, and I shiver. They're starting to see past the glitz and the glimmer. It's getting harder to smile and laugh When I want to scream and die. How can I deal with that?  
Are you okay?
Through the glass I look Searching for some answer Faces slanted into an opaque distortion Everywhere I gaze
Am I a Man Am I honest Am I emotional Am I young Am I human Am I alone Am I free Am I home Am I wise Am I ready Am I loving Am I suporting Am I helpful
*/ /*-->*/ Where I once was never to be the trees do fall the night never to call  
Behind the curtains of my eyes Hides a glare A stare A lie The carefully crafted façade The fragile, cheap disguise   Behind a mask lies another Feeble layer of an onion
"So what are you?" A question too familiar Years ago my mind would halt, frozen My heart would pound. "I do not know" I did not want to know.   "Are you Asian?" Your ignorance now shows
Whirl your pointed pines 
Fire is my force I am in beautiful Anguish Darling, my whole heart loves you   Garden flowers die But not those who lie sacred
Anger never suited me It never did and i vow it never will
My bones were feeble My breath had weathered My voice can be heard as a bare, cracked whisper And I listen at how fragile we are... For which my lungs, they were thirsty for air
It starts in 1999, when at five years old, still chubby-cheeked and new, I learned that make-up was for girls as night over night I watched my mother paint 
Kind, Sassy, Funny. Compares self to other girls. I am self conscious.
reaching into the depths of love stained pages and pulling out the most familiar character is my way of reinforcing my sense of self   
Without accessories I may look plain but do you know anymore than my name? I may be simple, but it is not that easy. I am very deep, and very needy. I am a mother, but a wild child undercover.
Marigold sunset An incredible red, rosy as your venomous lips. Parting to greet whatever sickness you allow, Inhale toxicity, exhale plasticity.
Behind the masks, the lights, the flash I’m here, I feel, I fear The truth told by the melody only in my head is a felony Behind the flash and the pretentions of trends
Loving, caring, an open book Trustng of others without a second look It's crazy how I can see the best in others But it took me so long to see the best in me Who I was used to depend on how others felt
Behind the soft focus and midnight lamps, I stand an individual ripe of expression and newborn neon. A flourescent buzzkill in my own devices. Passion is never an option, only a cursed persistence of never gone yet sometimes frozen feeling.
I suffocat
The Experience of Self              By Andrea Spencer   Silver fingers brushing soft pine’s needles -whose frost scrapes and burns this season- into her human hands.  
Trial and error,
In my life I have experienced change with time. Life, death, moving, changing. It's all apart of it. I look into the mirror and look at how I, myself, have changed.
you began to undress me and as each button of my blouse becomes undone a sliver of some imperfection slips past my possessions that once possessed me settle in a pool around my ankles
Behind the beige powder, behind the jet black liner, Behind the brave brown eyes, behind the fake smile, There is a girl.   Aside from the straight auburn hair, aside from the sculpted brows,
I'm in a constant state of madness with my disarrayed hair I stopped tampering with and my bubbly, bright voice that can't seem to stay quiet.   I enjoy the simple things-
I am an amazing person Sometimes others may not think so They talk shit and hate I know that others can relate. Sometimes I don't feel so amazing There are times when I just wish that
Is it possible to be, simply, black and white in this kaleidoscope world of colors? Is it possible to be, simply, one low note while others are scales, trills, and melodies?
Is That Really Me? By Rachel Z   Is that really me?
  I am Unfinished. My edges aren't sanded smooth There are creases and circles worn into my eyes, There are scars and callouses on my hands There are stripes of uneven bronze across my skin
When I look in the mirrorI am disgusted Turn   Tilt      Smile         Move on Not a piece feels rightArms too longMouth too smallHair too straight
I am me in my purest form I am me and all I adorn I am the rolls hidden under my shirt and under my nails, I am the dirt I snore while I sleep I lisp with my retainer In the shower I weep
15 likes.  20 Likes.  Not enough. Not enough.  Is it my nose?  My Hair?  Why?  Why don't they like me?  Why am I so wrapped  trapped  tangled  my confidence 
What is it like to be me? She asks  Envy lining her words. She's talking about the test That I aced The quiz I defeated The teacher Who loves me. I laugh and smile and joke at her
Every time I walk around  The bullets puncture me The bullets of your eyes Your stare, the way you watch me  It stings into my soul but you know what I can get shot and survive
I'm just a girl,
Staring at my reflection
Because I have imperfect Spanish, I am never Mexican enough to those who speak better than me Because I have imperfect English, I am always too Mexican for those who speak better than me
Everyone you meet - the ones that you avoid- these people are your reflection. See yourself as they see you, Would you be welcomed or Rejected.
I can't cry. I sit amongst pillars of stone My mind is empty The pillars whisper things unknown I'm left in my thoughts They scare me Because they're empty
The words hit deep,  as they penetrate into the complex ignorance lingering within  I cannot clear my mind  See transluecence equivalences admittance,
To Say im different than you would be a misconception Im the same as you niggas.... Plus a few exceptions I dont give a fuck about your life or ideologies Dont write for you! nor anybody
What am I When I am not a thumbnail An emoji A jumble of pixelated parts? What are my words When they escape from my mouth Unedited Unscripted Unable To be deleted?
No knows why the sequoia stands so tall, From below it’s just another tree, Nothing special, nothing outstanding.   It is adorn not with fragrant flowers, Nor does it bear luscious fruit,
Titled smile, crooked eyes. See me in my best disguise. If this is not truely me, May I ask, who could I be? Kept my love inside these jars, My heart composed of many scars.
My hair is thinning My skin is almost pale My life is nothing like a fairytale I am of the average height Contacts help me see what's in sight I look for depth in everyone
  Mirrored That is without glass A place inwhich glamour lies Our pictures hidden By the pictures of ourselves Hidding the natures of ourselves
You look around a see a girl. You don't know who she is or where she came from. Seems odd. But it's just me. You've seen me I'm sure. I live like this. Really?
I'm falling further from myself,  Down into the depths that threatens, To swallow me whole. The water rushes about my face, It fills in the space left by my body. This is where I die.
care about yourself
Today, I look up to the Sky; I see all the birds Sky high Flying, making the Skky alive.   Today, I look down to the Ground; I realized that I'm Ground Bound Rooted, held down.
I am surrounded
I was wondering... 1.      Do I really only have two followers who are interested in talking to me? 2.      Do I not post enough? 3.      Do I seem like a nuisance? 4.      Am I one?
I see stars. See in them what I am capable of I see a heart. Broken in between happiness like hope I see void. In this I have come to rest I don’t see myself. I see a mirror. In this fractal misrepresentation,
If there is nothing real, Nothing is what I give. If there is the ghost of real, I take the seeds, that with my hands Bloom into the ghost of something   And when my little ghost decides 
I am a body of water Stretching far and wide Beyond and away From my shores, to some unknown Place And my body is the water It rolls and ripples And my mind is the water Calm and glassy
She tilts her head back, rolling curls of dusky brown hair fall over her shoulders. Copper eyes with piercing abilities stare into my soul... strangely familiar.
Thump.      Thump.       Thump.        Thump.      Thump.       Thump. In.               Out.              In.          Out. Proof I am human runs through my veins. Proof that I am alive and functioning shows everyday.
I am from the evenings of dreading the next day of school,
Where am I going? What am I doing? That's how I lived my life. Question after question, Never clear what I wanted. Until reality hit me. Waisting potential. Missing my chance to live my dream.
When I was first born, I was     Grown. With all my anorexia and my blantant speech   And God was mad at    The girl of vibrations of the highest note of the song Resonating a vacuous buzz
On this train, I descend. A cruel descent from heaven to hell. The misty, rhythmic waterfalls
They asked me to take away the filters To show what remains underneath. Why is a filter so undesirable? Why do we idolize the untouched? The "pure"? For in my experience,             as a fish owner,
Who am I? That's a loaded question. We are all dense individuals, filled like an overflowing dam with ideas, experiences and contexts.
What is it that you see when you see me?
Fisad now broken, Not a lie to others, but to self. WhoWhatWhy Am I?
A loving sister, and loyal friend, Tender hearted, caring deeply ‘til the end. Stubborn, opinionated, and steadfast, A strong willed girl, never dwelling in the past. Born to nurture, love, and be loved,
Fabulous Ha! I love that word Eight letters, three snaps Fa-bu-lous
Winter has always been tinged with blues and greys.
Do you really want to hear about me? Then, boy, do I have a story for you.   I am exactly what one would expect No irony really intended I put my shoes on one at a time
The self is but the chalice for wisdom. As I am but the chalice for the sea. My truest self? What form is true. Eyes may see what shadows give away but looking into the light, all are blind. Cloaks to bind and keep hearts to ground.
I only have one shot at this, So I want to do it right. How does one take a selfie, Depicting an authentic sight?  
Never Ever am I wrong  All my work is done on time Very obediant, never causing trouble Always on time   Ok, maybe sometimes I am perfect Sometimes get corrected by my sister
Quiet, observing every movement  or listening to people talk Nervous, when presenting or when I am not prepared
I am Love,
My sound? Is a silent night, I have no music no beats, or rhythem. My sound? Crickets on a summer day. When I was born they sang. My sound? Is a soft noise
Do you ever just have one of those days where   you wake up and nothing seems right? One of those days where you look down the hall and someone has turned off the lights?  
to put the parallel lines decorating my wrists like outdated wallpaper to use, i would peel the scar tissue like the rind of a blood orange, link the massacred pieces of myself into a chain,
Filters and fakenes is a popular theme, Within the news, and the media, and favorite magazines. A girl with boring brown hair, With simple green eyes, And pale skin and blemishes,
Who am I? I am myself. While filters do not lie, They definitely enhance The minor imperfections that only I can see. Without filters, My zit is apparent,
One white kid in the whole neighborhood All my friends spoke Spanish but still I knew the truth That every one of us wants the same exact thing To find a safe haven and to have a family  
Mia whispers that I could be better. Ana shouts at me to pull it together. Mia says she wants what is best.
Mirror Talk   For a while I’ve been saying what I don’t truly know I thought I made myself A long time ago Looking in a reflection Hoping my thoughts won’t worsen
Who are you? They asked me as if they didn't already know
Looking into the mirror, Wiping away the tears. A new day is ahead And a new face appears. No one can see past The cover that is shown, But nobody really understands What is called the unknown.
Truth   Truth: You make me laugh Truth: You make me cry Truth: You are smart Truth: You are loveable Truth: You are honest Truth: You are doing better Truth: You are ugly
I am so very quiet You might not know I am there But I am your listening ear I'm there to hear your problems I hear to show I care Just call my name Tell me your shame And once you're done
My thighs stretch out across the seat when I sit.
I hope you
our teeth chatter more than our tongues but silence isn’t the enemy   it cradles me like a newborn who’s not afraid to scream for what she wants for what she needs
I've found it hard to wake up many morningsBecause I wondered what good it'd be;To struggle with the thought of never beingAs perfect as the people that I see.
All of these anxieties living inside of me, Overwhelming me with who society tells me I've got to be, But there's a big difference between who I've got to be and who I want to be. Who do I want to be?
I am only me, that is all that I can be No more, no less, don’t second guess   I love, I laugh, I live and cry, I’ve wished at times, that I could die   Some days I’m funny, others I’m not,
I’m driving to the store. I look left at a stoplight; A girl is applying on mascara on her already thick lashes  In the limited time frame that we have and I think of
The angel of death is so very wise, because the angel of death has taken so many lives. So many husbands,  so many wives. To death do us part but the love stays alive. 
Behind her grey eyes madness laid
Indulgence is not self-expression, Nor can we all avoid repression, That is said and done, The world is overrun. Finished without.   Mirrors as walls hold back, All tears that make us crack,
my room is crowded with feelings, and all i feel is alone. my family and friends, they just pretend that this house was ever a home my mother, she really does love me. she's the one who tends to my wounds.
The moment of silence lasted till noon We all agreed that he was taken too soon Some call it a tragedy But our lives are not Shakespeare And Death is no Bard So what sense can you give me?
The mirror cracks with broken glass unable to hold the lies that are told everything plastic thought as attractive the soulless has worth we're told to convert what is to live
Theres an artist behind this Idiot Theres an Ocean beneath this pool and it's full of sharks I present a calm surface because no one can fathom the depth and once they stick a toe in and realize there is no bottom
Smile, cry, hide Me, myself and I 2/4 cup of plastered smiles, oh I pull them off how 1/2 cup of tears without the pain, I don't want to shed a tear again
In the words of the actor that lives my life "The true me, that isn't me, is walking strife"   My voice is miniscule In a world of puffed chests and rabid children. His voice is cool
My tongue is rolling, twiriling and clicking.  My lips are pressing against tongue and cheek.  My throat erupts in a sound uncertain. Trying to conjure words of language whose dialect has been long lost. 
Behind these eyes shows who I really am What you have seen , is just a mask I look so brave with fire in my eyes But in my heart there is a surprise I seem strong and always happy
I'd pour my All into growing A Tree,  So you all would have to look up to me. 
I ...
Within a minute you are quick to claim your fame, in another moment you completely disowned it. A rebel driven by a devil. Words of wisdom questioned, a world full of deception.
I don't stare at myself in awe of my own beauty, I stare in awe that I am called beautiful. I look so deeply at myself, with every intention to find this beauty. To answer the question I ever so constantly ask myself,
I am scared and alone I wonder what death feels like I hear snickers and whispering at all times I see hatrd in the mirror I want to be numb I am scared and alone   I pretend that I am happy
Well here is something about me I don't like to talk about my past
You will eventually grow Even if it is really slow With this experience you will have learned All the fears will be overturned  
Mind over matter, to the mind of matter  to those minds that are complexed, perplexed. layer upon layers. Inception. My deception  My perception, my out look on life.
The side of one that is seen,Stays to hide the two.Three watches over me in hopesthat i wont serve four to life.All i've seen in this prison sentence is struggle and loss
Worn in my face, blood, Though her soil as yet unseen, Is Italy mine?
Peace. Love. Happiness.  Remsembles all my wants. My 'already haves' sofficated, buried six feet under my soul.
I am not three letters my whole existance  is not bound by the skin that is covering my soul by the body that is less than simply because I am larger than you they try to place scars 
Way Back when I was never thin But the desire to be in- The in crowd Grew out of control I was never myself I was never Pres in the public eye I was always who they pictured me to be
My ears captured the bells from afar. Though my eyes rest,I know exactly where we are. I can feel the throbbing pain, before I even stand. Why must I wear these? Who exactly am I trying to be,
you think there's an ocean of things  you've yet to learn about me but there's really not that much   it's more like a pool in that  it isn't so infinite or mysterious but still waters run deep
If everyone saw who I really am, I can't, I won't, must hide.
They cannot see what they do;The seperation, the argument and closed-minded confrontation, damaged by selfishness of view and heart.I break chisel against the walls in their minds.
A hushed, resigned, tailor Observed, a noiseless, patient spider spin, Past Apollo's race, With needlework of kin, Our pace pulls in the dawn.  
I met her in a dream Crazy as it seems She laughed like I did And I found that funny
The clouds have veins, at the end of the day, when the sun kisses the edges, and the purple spreads along the blue, dancing on the white
I watched all my friends fall, in and out of old love Shame took the hardest, and hope hung from a limb Sadness drowned in her own tears, and anger forgot how to swim 
Reflection I See
A quiet stone stillness Flushed by petal skin Glowing but whispering Eyes painted with grim Black lines suggest somber Whimsy chilled by   Apathetic limbs worn By an apricot smile
Does anyone remember when they were little, And they loved to play pretend? neither. But it seems that, As we grow older, Learn the twists and cavities Boroughed into our bodies
Proverbs 24:10 - "If you fail under pressure, your stregnth is too small"
I want to do ballet. NO. You’re not flexible enough. I want to do beauty pageants.  NO. You’re not near attractive. Ok.   I’ve made six A’s and one B this quarter.
Each day I awake and am shortly greeted with my own reflection;
Honesty's the rarest rebel root A precious pearl in dark long harboring Whose maker groans and lifts to bring to fruit From murky waters cull hours laboring. 
A face, they see, a smile so wide A heart, they hear, beats strong inside. But they do not know, they cannot see, The troubles and darkness inside of me.   A girl, my age, lives so far away,
You were never the one who got tests hung up on the fridge and you never handled a ball well enough  to earn a trophy or attention. You were never your sister, who had
In life we are given a window A perfectly clear window.   Others see into our widow And us into theirs.   As we grow we see that some windows are scratched,  marked, and broken.  
I dream of a beautiful woman I gave birth to years ago.
You don’t know anybody like me, I promise you that. I’m a homeschooler, an expat, A feminist, a runner, a creator. I’m bilingual, but I can curse you out in more languages than two.
A soul of paper:
Look at me and tell me what you see. A young black educated male is what I hope you perceive me to be.  I have God beside me, my parents behind me and my family around me and I’m going to strive to be all that I can be.
He sees balls of flame and dust. She sees old souls that guide her path. I see worlds beyond all of us. They see stars, numbers, and math.   He endures the dull, While she beholds the beauty.
A small hummingbird  Has been cruelly captured, Caught in my ribcage.    It flutters vainly,  Ensnared by my hollow bones Unable to fly.
Who knows what lies across the border? That border which stands so tall, It keeps us locked inside ourselves. All of us. Both big and small. We cannot truly find ourselves until we cross the border.
In a city where I wander,
    I once knew a girl,
Sitting alone Knowing what I have done
I want someone to listen to me. Listen to my story and tell me when I’m done “That’s some deep shit you waded through.” And then say nothing.
I wish the education system was designed to teach me realistic life lessons
We shackle our Feet, With Vanity and Mirrors. That bring us to our knee's, While we fear and shake with tremors. We build our castle on the media and magazines we read everyday
Beautiful is she who speaks. Not with words scribbled out, Or with the dance in her feet. It's the beauty she finds in defeat.
We live to die, We die to live, Living for life yet waiting to die, Killing to live, Living for the kill. Claiming above is salvation, Below our damnation.
  Look at those girls in the magazine!
Look at me. No, really. Look at ME. I'm an more than mere paper, test scores, or hobbies. I am more than dollar signs, numbers, and GPAs. Brown eyes, like the boxes for my books.
I am not sorry that I'm not a 36-24-36 But I do have a body size that leaves me with confidence I love my rich dark brown skin  And my dark brown eyes that shines from within
Conditioned to be the best that I can be Following the dream that is for me Did I plan it with my own intentions? Or did I pull ideas through my connections?   Where can I be the best that I can be?
Follow me I will show where I hide All my favorite places Even those inside myself That nobody knows But you're something else I will let you see my soul Just follow me where I hide
Third eye intellect. Take time to self-reflect. Enticed by elevated wisdom. Non conformist conformed to intricate cognition. Mindfully, my mind is fully conscious . Keen insight in sight. 
I am not this ugly skin,I am the soul that lives within.It is my job to see it through,it is the least that I can do.A wonderful God made me;He loves me deeply.No one could ever love me more,
I'm weird, I'm brave, I'm scared, I'm tall, I
Depression is a widow's veil. A black, looming object..light and wispy, blowing with every change of the wind.  It's flowery design serves to hide the pain and agony that lies beneath. 
Sylvan scenes of virgin timber an enchanted forest she longs to discover where mighty oaks give inspiration and leaves aid in rejuvination she need a place to breath in the summer.  
She's warm, bringing brightness at the end of each storm. Embracing morning with a kiss. Reborn.   She weeps. Tears like the dew roll and wash down her cheeks.
Spinning in circles, singing and crying, it dips into cool, dark depths, then skims the surface lightly, dancing but afraid, for weeks.   Tired and tattered, then bold and hardy,
The black girl. Built strong, legs long unlike her hair. Hair thick like her hips. Full lips. Left on this earth for a purpose but constantly forced by society to find it alone.
Answer me my question please;who is that person that I see,looking out as darkness flees
When I look at myself in the mirror and think that I could destroy the world and graffiti the sky              all in a single day I leave my makeup drawer untouched and wear bright red converse
Help me father
My body is trapped My mind is free The spirits that swirl from my body must flee and feel around me the air that they plague a mystical sense so close and so vague 
the highs and lows of your  words all lead to my dismay,
Day in, and day out there is a voice inside my head
My contradictions,
One scar
My mind is a portal to worlds of possibilities of success. There I sit in my imaginary kingdom of ease and finesse While I caress my thoughts of future glory and a new kind of persona- A man that will generate much fame and renown.
What is society To you and me? No, What is society? You and me.   Socius, societas, society. Comrade, friend, ally. How far we have come.  
Eyes. There were six of them, green, blue, brown, and lavender. Now, why were they hovering? The lights were too bright to cast shadows, so why was there a lack of bodies to these eyes?
Sometimes you might feel empty inside, unable to say how you feel because too much pride.  You might feel like you are on your own, like you are all alone. But have no fear,
hair tied up like her toung in her throat flowers skattered like her toughts high shorts zipped up like her mouth every day socks pulled high likepuffs of smoke leaving her mouth
And tonight will be the night remembered as the time I let me get the best of me, I let my memory replay every little word you should have said. I let my passed creep back into me, the shadow of depression consumed me.
Self Acceptance A Julius C. Lightfoot III Poem
I sit and stare, My mind a blur, With little sparks around.    They dance and sing, and start whistling, Hence creation starts to flow.    My head attuned,  My heart balloons,
I AM ME   I am intellect combined with stupidity, Kindness and compassion fractured by pain and misery, Wrapped in anger and jealousy…
To me everything means something from the words you say to the way you act.
One Cut, Two Cut, Three Cut,  Four.  How bad is a couple more?
If I could change something I'd change the way you look at the world. I'd turn the scars on your arms into butterlies and kiss marks. i'd make you smile every night before you wen to bed. 
Change in one's self only happens within that one breathe, to change replenishes the unclean from being the broken to the mistaken.
my scars tell me  you're too much  you'll never be enough  you're not pretty enough  you're never going to be good enough  and for awhile I let my scars define me 
I look in the mirror And see the reflection of my papa’s heritage My Scandinavian father’s father’s father Towers over me smiling His eyes, swimming in brilliant colors, Show me his-story
the faggot in the reflection of my space helmet visor is my only friend. with shaggy shorn hair and big eyes and a hollow cheek bone that holds in my silent tongue. i have etched lessons in my skin, leaving silver lines
self inflicted pain I'm pouring salt in my own wounds. Stuck in the past; time doesn't heal after all.   Thoughts in your mind are constantly telling you You're not good enought to weak,
You start from who you are; Sweet, innocent, and caring. people ask and you say you're ok but no one knows how you're truly faring.
It was him
Born to be individuals Living for everybody else What is self? Love is hard to find When you look for it in different places And hide your confidence in the basement
Thin Thick Fat Small Large As I read these words normality comes to mind Our society has brainwashed our minds to think that skinny and thin are the new perfect
Imagine what it would feel like: Over, done, sinking, falling.  Imagine what it would sound like:
I can feel my heart beat To the sound of the ground beneath my feet   I see what could be mine, A prize above all others. I push myself to do my best I must go on,   Or else my dream
Have you ever wanted to sit with a razor blade,  And write a bloody symphony on your arm?  Have you ever felt your trembling heart be swayed,  And knew it was a sign of the looming swarm?   
Gripping the razor She admires its silver tone Exposing her wrist She examines her canvas She glides the razor Ever so gently Feeling the painful hole in her chest go away
She always looked for a silver lining But never thought it would be a silver razor One side dull The other thin, sharp Admiring it reflecting the single light in her room Gripping it in one hand
From a distance much to great, He silently seals his fate. With a rush of the tide, He loses the feelings he tried to hide.   His head spins,
please beware the end is near when it gets here i expect you to care if you do then head my advice if you dont youve been warned for when we reach the end the rope
I am a stair case out of a burning building My heart, the cherry bomb that Couldn’t consume the flames My body is wildfire started fromOne match I am a rickety fire escape  
Black and Blue Do you ever get a clue? Black and red do you know how much i bled? black and green You were always too keen Black and yellow  Afterwords, you were always so mellow.
I have known this space for awhile now But like some old jeans i grow tired of it The thing that i thought protected me Stops me from reaching my potential The space that i enjoyed
Words are unspoken, Things are not said, But everything she feels is stuck in her head. The sighs of a hurting, broken heart Her feelings inside tear her apart. Words that whisper, 
I Fight, I Fight For The Light. I Fight For Those Sitting Their Room, Crying At Night, Holding That Knife, And Wishing They Died.   I Fight For The Ones Who Lost Hope,
Broken bottles   lining the window seels where pictures should be where crosses should be liquor soaking in the walls yet not absorbing the blows   virbration from the seel decore
Changing the world is an impossible thing,
We want to be who we are Yet we still care about our shoes, our clothes, our car And what other people thought About what we think and what we bought   But these things are not what make us people
Overwhelming sense of dread,
All you're used to is obeying, listening,
The sun is shining so far above
Three am and I'm in that park. The trees rustle in the breeze I'm here to meet a man Not a sleeze. Little do I know he's a human shark. That's the hardest part. He meets me halfway
Have the eye of the tiger, the heart of a lion, and
 I am a woman, There is nothing to be ashamed of. I bleed once a month, sometimes twice I have breast, hips, thighs and booty. I am a woman, There is nothing to fear. I am the accused lesser sex
We are scared of being judged. We are scared of being wrong. We are scared of sounding dumb. We are scared of change. We are scared of the future. We are scared of relationships.
They think that I’m redThe kind of crimson that comes from loud mouths and smart remarksThe scarlet of sarcasm that stems from quick witFrom quips that taste like fire and sound like flame
Look at you So young So lost A compass without direction You do not yet know the cost You smooth your hair You stand real tall Already knowing that you are small
look at yourself look at your thighs do you really believe people would care if you died your eyes are to small and your stomach too round feel the adreniline pumping?
Loneliness is such a bitter-sweet word Who else to you know better than yourself? The more you're alone, the more you know About what makes you tick.   Yet, what if there's things best unknown?
Full of stress, full of fear.Working so hard, full of determination.A need to express, to make it clear.Eternally scarred, by the implication.Of failed success, so severe.
Staring at walls, out of mind Dark despair calls, like no other kind Shadows swirling, thoughts racing Emotions twirling, no point in chasing
My heart was broken       Neraly Choking                  On my own tears I tried to leave       But you held the key                  And after all these years... I fell hard in love
I had a bestfriendHer name was MiaShe gave me tips to ease the painHeld back my hair as I threw up my sinsTaught me how to gag quietlyTold me to never eat hot things
lies to cover scandals scandals leading to hurting
I am not a single word, nor a single thought.
I know a boy who thinks too much
  Forever, atleast that’s what you said.
I don't think they realize how staring at these walls through blooshot eyes, can slowly kill you. You take so much in society that it slowly eats away at your soul. You begin to feel uncomfortabl 
Decoration across my body. Just one at a time,
I’m 21 years old. Well, almost.  For these 21 years I’ve done my utmost 
When we were all childrenWe kept a blanket over ou
We started out on cloud ninewe never imagined being apartwe were forever, we were together.We had it all planned out, right down to the day we said I Do.But then the hate startedthe stress
I may not be dumb, But that does not mean I’m smart. I’m old enough now To take care of my own heart. So that’s what I had thought, Then I chose the wrong guy.
The same thoughts are on repeat every single day. Should I end it now? Should I wait for nature to take its course? It'll be easier? I'll be committing a sin. Life isn't supposed to easy.
Pain is temporary but welcome it's relief where hurt once stood its a cold blade and a restless night a breeze that blows just a shy to cold pain is me mum doing nothing as I'm used pain is me dad turning me into his whore pain is me friends leav
 Dear Love,   I gave it all to you. And you dog gone took it and ran with it. Such a fool, to have ever think we would be.  
The world is divided, yet whole,
It has no face. It doesn't need one. I know it is not friendly. I feel it tighten around me. It tugs on me, it binds me. I am suffocated by its poison. I am being consumed by its hate.  
I live in the same place I was born. A small circle of protection,     preserved on every side by a cliff or mountain. It’s a mystifying place,
How Dare You Say I am too young To see and feel and think the way I do How Dare You
The walls just keep crumbling... Into the sea in which I keep fumbling As I looked upon the water something I wasn't able to see A reflection of my world and the reflection of me
Every day at school starts out with the same thing.
You’re feeling insecure Don’t know what for You have everything That others dream for You are beautiful, strong, and pure
You can keep your patriarchy endorsed ignorance perpetuated carelessly delivered comments about my body to yourself I don't need your approval  to love my cheeks my face my legs
Fond memories, led astray No glimpse of hope, such disarray Scornful judgment brings out a beast, so tame Blinded by its fear, naught bravery remain Tearing at the wounds that reject
War.War within myself,War surrounds me.Inside I'm freedom,but self-made bonds are magnetizing me.
In the valley of the Shadow of Death, There’s no place to hide, no place to rest. The demons there, haunting your every step. Choking you ‘till you have no breath.   The light at the end of the tunnel
When your pain is tangible You can reach out and touch it. It’s everywhere, consuming you. You don’t even realize how lon_____g it’s been eating away at your insides, until they finally cave in and c
Nights of terror seem to pass And days of sorrow fade. In every moment that I laugh I slowly crawl out of the shade. Bits and pieces start to form But some parts are still gone.
I seem to hate myself the most when I am alone, I think I have come so far... yet it's my metaphoric brains I wish to blow. There is so much I want to accomplish, but so much more I need to let go.
Hey you… Yeah, you. The girl with all the scars and stories to tell. The boy who sits alone in the corner, The child with a black eye from “falling down the stairs”, I’m here for you, Now and forever.
Her eyes,Melting away,Into sadness,Into decay,People who,Describe her look,May say she's undecided,But not a crook,When she rises early in the morning,She makes no sound,
I am different, Differnt from you, and you, and the girl in the back, Not different in general like everyone else is from others, But uniqely. I have a gift, A gift that I'm not even sure about,
I will be whoever the fuck I want. Let me repeat that. I, Faith Rider, will be, whoever, whatever, the fuck I want. Everyone is putting themselves in boxes, "I'm straight!." "I'm Gay!" "I'm Bi!"
You’re afraid of what could happen So you constantly keep up a wall You are in a constant battle But aren’t we all?
Gravity is irresistible. I want to stay away, But this concept is not unmistakable. It must sustain on the bay.   I feel defenseless In my naked soul. As I am relentless
What if the truth, was really a lie? What would you say, if I told you that's what I live by? The lies are only there, there to hide the pain, the sorrow, the sad, the everything.
I tried to write in a smile, but it ended up a frown, I tried to write it upside right, But it ended up upside down. I tried to write it in like summer, but it ended up so cold.
I counted to ten, I'm done! Where are you? I can't find you... Will you come out soon? I miss seeing you, Hearing your voice. I miss being with you, Hiding wasn't your choice.
We line up like marching ants We listen to the Queen Bee.   Tell me what to do  Tell me what to be    I sweat  I smell I stress   The #2 pencil shakes in my hand
The one and only... One of kind... Unique and undefined... No explanation to her life. An uncalled gift she received that brought her grief. Learning how to process the challenges of her life.
Popularity is our aim. Potential fame is our game. Being the best, forgetting the rest. Who needs the loyal friends.    We flock like birds. Orignality blown away in the wind.
Locked inside my skin When no one understands All that hate and sorrow Fill my dying bones again ……………………………………………..
There is an underlying silence over everything that holds everything, is everything as we communicate this substance of silence embodies our conversations meanwhile I search for inner peace
The meaning of life, Who knows what it is, Is is finding a wife, Or the pursuit of riches.   Is life finding the meaning of true love, Or finding a love for adventure, The many kisses you share,
You were born into this world as nothing but you, The potential was endless, if only you knew.   Question has been there, a childhood friend,
  Selfishness, pride Her ego, her snide Bright blue eyes, Shiny hair Something more lies under there. Happy and giddy, Her grin wide with glee She’s got the sharpness in tounge
She is inquisitive She s saddened She is explosive She is wonder She is the heart above all
I'm a puppet, controlled by what I feel is Wrong. That won't work, my mind says. That is not a career.   What is a career? To assume I won't be happy under the Stage Lights
When my shoulders sag from the weights of the world, Remind me who I am. When the darkness hides Your lovely face, Remind me who I am.
You lit up my life since the start You are the fire inside of me You are the inspiration deep inside of my heart You taught me to always believe  Yet believing was so hard for me to achieve
I told him... "Pretty girls don't have scars," And I cried. With a finger under my chin, He made me look into his eyes. He told me that's what makes me beautiful And kissed every tear
You taught us A-B-C, 1-2-3, Reach high scores on SATs, But when do I learn to be me?  
There's pain in my vains still this day, cant explain how you put me to shame. Saw me as a broken love, didn't give me a chance to undercover the talent that was given 
Yep, that’s the thing When we finish elementary school, middle school, high school We have to just get ourselves into college We take one thing with us to college It’s not our friends we meet nor the mountains of debt, it’s the Education we attain
my mother taught me to grow up strongmy gradmother taught me to grow up propermy father taught me to grow up sarcasticyou taught me to grow up strongto grow up with love
Why can't I be smart like those that I see?Before I told myself--you have your own strengths you must not flee.
Run, run, run as fast as we can We can't stop the rhythm echoing in our hearts and hands our feet and soul they must fly We cannot deny the sparks that live than die Jump, jump, jump
The aesthetic beauty of the mind to behold. Not one can abate my hunger, my disease, I've come upon these thoughts to ponder, The substantial blank you bring appease. To whom to which the eyes behold,
  If you take a look at her, You’d think she never struggled Or cried.   But if you asked her questions Such as, “If you could go back in time, Would you change anything?”  
I sit here with my patch of sky It's clear and blue and wild and free It asks me if my heart is true And what with my eyes do I see   I sit here with my patch of sky
“I am A Ginja Traceur” PoemNicholas A. Peet
Myself; As expansive as the ocean, Yet also a wanderer within its great depths. With no thought at all I flow with its motion, But resistance is found when I consider my breadth. Deeper than the submarines,
Beauty is unreachable Love is just a game Lies become believable Others thrive off of our pain
If my body is a temple, you are my act of worship. I yearn for your touch, yet they quote "the Truth." I indulge in your warmth, and they reference "the Word." I trace the lines of your lips,
Seeing everyone reach for the same goals gets tiring Sprinting towards your success  wanting nothing but self-statsticfaction  being proud of yourself means more  knowing who and what you will be
What is in a poem?I've oft' asked myself,Over a thousand I've written,I brood on this thought, Is it perhaps a diagram,A portal in which to delve,So many questions unspoken,The cure to mental drought,
You are important, because you are one of a kind,  There is no replica or clone, just you. Without you, people, nations, worlds, would be lost. From that day you were born to the day you die,
I'm ready 
I stole a peek inside today, and what peered back left me in dismay.   I myself, I must betray, today I shot myself, and walked away.
her insecurities are little girls wrapped in ribbons and frilly dresses and fighting for attention   and her confidence kisses each one goodnight every night and never forgets.
I can see, but I am blind. I can hear, though I am deaf. I can speak, yet I am mute. I find myself wandering, like a spirit, Walking the same path over. I cannot tell if a dream has taken me
There's no point in being someone that you aren't. The act will be obvious and off-putting. Besides, what are you gonna do if he wants the fake you?
A mind has vacated its body Escaping voids lingering deep within a battered soul With ignorance to the disconnect it harvests A storm is brewing yonder And one will become wary listening to the thunder
No Makeup do you need You’re Beautiful without That make up. That dot upon your face is what makes You. No makeup you need Your beautiful without The powder. To me you’re a desire.
Let me screeeeeeeeeeam Let me shout to the world Show them what I am capable of                                                 I’m invisible Minute A mute So hear me yell Hear me shout
(I write for) the angelwith molten noir feathers(his grace) that was taken(and) his hunter's (love) letters (I) write for the hunterwhose one greatest (sin)was wanting approvalof his brother, his kin
I cannot make flowers growin the parts of myself I don't take enough care oflike my mindand my heart. I cannot repair those who are brokenand I cannot healthose who hurt.
Lighten up butter ball and get cooking.
This wonderful gift flows through my veins like the blood that's inside me. It's not everday that a true poet is born. I write poetry because it's a way for me to escape, it's a way I can tell me about me.
"Finding" It's for the release. It's for the rhyme. It's for the rhythm. And falling away from time.   I write for the freedom. I write to bind.
So many faults I can point out to be true  But will that proclaim the true person in you? People are windows that you can see through, People are mirrors that show the untrue. Everything that I had to be used to 
One Ignored  Lilies do not verbally express their want For your admiration But dear, look at her colors, do they not
So many people loved you now you're gone, You didnt say goodbye before you left home. You filled our hearts with so much joy, You didn't deserve this you were a wonderful boy. A brother, son, grandson, & friend,
You reel me in, I cringe from you. You toss me aside, I hold you down. You throw me out, I run away. You long for me, I stay in the sidelines. You lure me back, I come back,
I love my big nose and big lips: nubian features; my blemishes and acne marks.  I love my nappy roots; the 4-5 hours it takes to tame my mane.
His love was coveted.   I wasn't.  His love was exactly the song I wanted to sing; the beat I wanted to dance to.  He was everything.  I was nothing. 
Write.Written as the philosopher devised ways to thinkbut the thought was only told through speech.Yet speech was only allowed for those that began to speak
                   For all the things I've left unspoken I know they would be better off left unsaid. I'm left in a dream again. Please allow me to show you my life. I want to show you my pain
Who blesses this child that cries alone, when the place that’s safe is farthest from home. To whom does she thank for the large dreams broken and who will wipe her face when tear stained shirt is soaking.
Uneventfully I awoke. Unsurprisingly the sun beating hot on the single paned windows – Caused dew drops of moisture to form Dragging myself out of bed, Discarding one used shirt for another,
  I am from lipstick, lipgloss, and lipstain, From Revlon and Covergirl, and from many other lip products. I am from the bubblegum pink walls of my bedroom, The heater that lined two walls of my room
I Invent the non-existent Realize the reality of the unreal Imagine the unimaginable Read an unwritten story I create   Accept the possibility of the impossible Expect the unexpected
Naturally I wear my hair jet blac with no perm,Naturally I speak my mind if I see it fit,Naturally I am artistic,Naturally in nature I am me.
I cannot stand it any longer Should I fight and Should I die Would I feel at peace or cry? O' wonderful person before me I can't help but feel as if you tease me
I am not a poet.  My poetry is not considered poetry.  My poems are a door for me and, me alone, They are a way for me to cope, to understand. Nobody knows my life better than my poems,
Grin at the fact that this page is my shrine.   Where I write what I feel, It's more than surreal.   It's fact. Written down just like that. With the snap of my fingers. Does the impact linger?
  I'm sitting in this chair, arms tied behind my back. A dark room with pure shadows and nothing but whispers. Blind folded and pinned down to the sounds of
Orange light passes slowly on; as a slow brook passes an even slower traveler on his melancholy way through life.
Dear young woman on the other end of the computer screen, 
 While you were busy resurrecting instances of critical synthesis  the    head nurse beat you to the sliver of hope, rinsed it out and out came a question"where am I?" I don't know kid, that's what we're all trying to find out "hey, where's Tweedl
I fear that as I grow older,I am not so much getting wiser,But rather, imaginativeIn hiding my lack of knowledge.
Every day is Halloween.Put on my costume,Put on my face.Double check, Triple check to make sure I look happy.
I saw her today for the first time She seemed like she had existed for quite a while Her face always a smile, a laugh on her tongue
Sorrow, Emotions that travel through each human being as we face triumph and hardships in our lives, a world full of confusion as every young professional tries to thrive.
Ask me who I am, and I will not hear you, for I am deep within this crowd calling out my own name. I will not know the sound of my own voice until it whispers back. Until then, I will spend my hours
Heads tilt sideways Eyes peering in Hearts beat to the same Rhythm.   Come with us Come with us They plead Lips glued upwards In a grin.   Hair is swaying
When I was younger, I went by a rule. I wouldn't speak to you, unless you spoke to me first. What hurt, was when they said, "Wow, you're actually cool." Was their original opinion of me something much worst?
Paintings are the sky in many colors, She looks and observes as well as many others, Green as the grass as she is the color of life, Shining through the dark scaring the demons of the night,
The art of progression Is something of enlightenment The fact that you can evolve And then involve your mind In a split second A fragment of your life Becomes your whole Time Waisted
Her left hand rests palm-down against the mirror,this hand is relaxed in comparison to her fluttering mind.Who am I? She wonders.
In the dead of night, crickets play their song. I lay on the cold dirt ground, while in your arms. Look up, you say. A diamond filled like sky. I see a smile.
Her eyelashes, laced with playfulness Eyelids, lined with pride and colored with curiosity Cheeks, powdered with determination Lips, stained with innocence
Why must you pull me back? you evil thing tugging with a lion's brutality on the cords of my ankles. then I cannot walk or run free. and leap through those transparent but fierce and threatening walls of this cage.
Never get lost in the maze of making others happy, you may lose your own happiness in the process. No need to look, search, or wander, simply glance in the mirror, and look within yourself.
She’s broken. Broken into so many pieces from everything she has ever been through. Her heart cries out for a helping hand, but the tears just continue to flow like a waterfall. She’s terrified.
I see the Eleanor Rigbys and Gilbert Grapes everywhere I go, The people who forgot long ago to See beauty in people laughing, sunflowers shooting up Out of the ground. There are people who have never heard a canary
Rusty bricks painted by graffiti. Lit neon flickered—    Quick Draw! ATM Inside! Steam rose out of street grates as if it were ghostly fingers come to carry sinners below. The sign posted—  
My soul is river stone And fire fed Dragon eyed and embered Lurking in mountain’s jeweled gold Soaring on iron wings
Late at night, my thoughts come to play Dancing in my head, each leap of thought a new a brilliant point Sometimes bright and full, sometimes melancholy All creating a glorious web in my mind’s theater
My life is weak sauce. Not bad for what it is, but still. You exemplify gloriously what I’m not even close to having: You know more words and more ways to talk. You stand eight inches taller and look ten tons stronger.
I dedicate myself to public speaking Peaking subtly along with the days and nights and weeks and whatever comes next Sometimes I talk too much It’s not enough to always think after I Open my mind up,
To be what I want to be is hard. To be what they want me to be is harder. To follow behind others and never be myself, thats somthing I have done for years. But I refuse to do that anymore.
There was a man. Who lived in a home on top a hill He lived alone He watched the birds come by his house He watched kids playing outside his home He wondered what it was like, to chase after that ball
You would not like to know what lies in the depths of my soul And yet you want the truth. You do not understand what secrets that I hide. You ask why don’t I sleep, Why don’t I eat,
When I was a child you held me tight, but now it's time for me to say good bye. I'll miss the way you kissed me good night, and how you woke me up by just turning on one light.
It is cold. Not outside in this physical state but mentally and inside this heart and mind. It is cold. Its something I can't control but it has happened. I am a zombie walking the path of life's hardships.
Three siblings Two parents Six grandparents Sixteen years old She's such a sweet girl, a joy to have in class She gets on well with the other children
I don't understand This violence It sickens me To be cruel is so easy Yet to be kind is so difficult. I find this hard to believe. Although to look on the outside To believe, is so difficult.
I am from the smell of the Ohio River and the soft kisses of sunlight on my skin. From the jungle gyms and slides that create the paths of my life.
I live in a dream My own reality I live in a meadow Where I find myself I live on a balcony My own aerial view I live in tomorrow My own today
Look in the mirror Look at what you see Do you see the same girl, The one that I see? When I look at you, I see a beautiful person I see the girl you are, The one you try to hide
If I am to be one thing, let me be transparent. No, not to fade off this earth. Let me reveal the dreams I nurture within me. Let my past be exposed. Let my inspirations and drives radiate through me—
We each have a well inside of us, filled with exhilaration and craze. It is our driving force. It is the host of every moral and desire we once entertained. It is the common truth that connects us all,
I want to be barefoot. I want to leave my shoes behind. I want to feel the gravel, touch the squish in the tar, feel the temperature amplified on concrete
Who Am I? I’ve asked myself Who are you? People have asked me I am a spoiled girl with a loving family I am the daughter of a Marine I am the daughter of a strong woman I am the sister of a soldier
How can I feel everything and nothing at the same time? How can I be loved, but still feel all alone? How can I be smart, but act so stupid? How can I be stressed and frustrated, yet appear to be calm?
Between the ink & paper Is where the true story lies Between the written word I hide myself
"Who's the fairest?" They all ask. Deciding can be quite the task. Primping, smudging, popping pimples. Her hair is frizzy, oh but such cute dimples! Not him, not her, Oh and God not him. Did you see his crepey mole-rat skin?
That girl who cut deep into her skin, for short outburst of relief. Brown sugar gliding against the sharpness of red. That happiness that the blood reveled seemed like it was being healed.
the rain is pouring an old man sits on a bench in an open field and looks up at the sky he reaches for the shovel he begins to dig
As long as its in the future time will move me toward it,so im going to keep on fighting, while im struggling but its worth it., tired of all the hatred,im tired of all the fighting, so tired of my own lies,sick of my self portrait, disliking who
Most people think I am fine within myself. I would love to tell them how I really feel about All the turmoil in my heart and head And my priorities. I wish I had a folder so they were easier to see.
Wile E. on the hunt to capture Roadey Devising devious schemes To get you here with me Backfiring
I knew a girl that never wore shorts or short sleeved shirts, she never wore shorts or short sleeved shirts. I mean it’s something that no one really thinks twice about or even once about her.
life’s not a puzzle at least not for me i’m like the sand between your toes there’s no one place for me to go i get by in the creases of it all i’m not a piece i just hold them all together
the edge of tide, the edge of reality. Water is a mirror of Ourselves, with no place to call home. Calm or Turbulent, we are still us.
Fear, such a small word yet it’s a huge feeling. Fear is something I am experiencing. I’m afraid to let my guard down only to be shot down again.
I see you looking down Wearing a classic frown I try acting like a clown; But still your forlorn mounds It is true silence does confound To darkness you are bound But I want you back!
I Am The Waves In The Ocean And The Roots Of The Trees. I am wind and thunder and rain. I am the image of my father, Kemet. I am soil and breath and soul. I am Africa personified. In the way I walk
She's damaged love Waiting for someone to understand Brokenhearted And broken minded She won't think of complexity Because that brings up her anxiety She pretends she perfect
hurting way down deep pain, so complete. i can't think, I can't breathe i can't do anything. it's a scary thing to hurt so bad. it's awful to not understand why.
A song of myself is one with no tune. It has no rhyme or reason, Nor rhythm or meaning. It cannot be heard by the naked ear, Sometimes it cannot even be heard by its creator. Sometimes my song gets lost.
Dreaming, wondering Believing. The Girl who was always Believing That anything could happen. That you could fall in love with anyone. She always urged me to stand out, to Believe
Success they say is in the eye of the beholder But my beholder ignores the fire, recognizes only the smolder My fire burns a different way and a different color Because my thinking is just so unlike any other
Nobody grows up anymore They get caught up in disappointments Stuck in broken promises Rejected by scenes of what used to be.
All alone in her room. All alone in the world. The crying doesn't stop. Never does hate. How can a little piece of metal help you to hate yourself so much? It cuts like butter, It hurts like a knife.
Bleed, pour, sacrifice Your body and your soul Fight back, or give in But you will never be whole.
The mirror. The home of my worst enemy. Myself. I see her again today. Her waist. Not small enough. Her face. Not pretty enough. Her hair. Not long enough. Her skin.
It burns in the back of my mind, day and night the burning goes, bursting to be untethered, lust, fear, sorrow and pride, its all here, in the back of my mind, but if I were to unleash these inner demons,
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