A letter to my future selfDear me,Hello my dear I hope you’re well, but I suppose that’s for time to tell.I hope you’ve aged with a beautiful grace, with no wrinkles on your face.I hope your smiling as you read this, I hope you’ve took your time and succeeded.Are you still writing? In your therapeutic way? For I know it keeps your demons at bay.How’s your family, I hope it’s grew, changed a lot from just being you?I know you’ll be more confident than you what you where before, I hope those common things don’t seem such a chore.How’s the view from your window, I bet it’s of the sea. Or somewhere very beautiful where I know you’ll feel so free.I know things are better than they ever were before, I know you’ll be strong through all the things that make you sore.I bet you seen all the sights and more than you ever dreamed, I know things will be so beautiful than they ever seemed.I suppose you’re busy, with you’re happy lif
My dear friendMy dear friend, I know it's been so long.Please forgive me, I was wrong.But I want you back, can we start again?When we're together I forget the pain.I'll let you lead and then I'll follow,I need you back, I feel so hollow.I miss the memories we used to create,Our relationship was truly fate.I hope my dear that you feel the same,Will you be the spark to my flame?I'm sorry that I went away,I miss you more, day by day.But as I write it's clear to see,My dear friend poetry you've came back to me!
One of those nightsIt's one of those nights were my eyes won't close,were tears keep dripping down my nose.It's one of those nights were everything's wrong but I can't explain why,When the light burns out all I'm left to do is cry.It's one of those nights were I panic at the slightest sound,Were under the air I feel like I'm drowned.It's one of those nights were I can't seem to breathe,Were I choke and I heave, I just want to leave.It's one of those nights were I can't stop thinking,I'm slowly falling, I'm drowning, I'm sinking.It's one of those nights were there are no lights in the sky,Were I feel grounded when I just want to fly.It's one of those nights were everything comes back,All the dark thoughts that shroud your mind in black.It's one of those nights were I'm too scared to dream,For once it's ends, I'll wake up, and scream.
The fame gameShy and quiet, is what you are,Yet is see you dreaming to be a star.Basking under that radiant spotlight,Smiling as your lips gently dust the mic.I see you glow as your passion flares,You melt all fears, you have no cares.But tell me now as your growing strong,Never missing a note in each and every song.Was it really necessary to change your name,Will it really gain you fame?They told you that your own wasn't cool or acquitBut your stage name doesn't really seem to fit.The wig and make up are a good gimmickBut for you I don't really think your with itI'll admit I'm happy for you,But as far as personalities go I think you have two.The fame monster seems to be growing insideYou can run but you can't hide.And the fact that your acting like you're hot shitYou're getting there, but you're not quite it.Watch this space.To late I've seen enough.
Can't be savedBound by pain, torn insideWorrying feelings are coming alive.A storm is forming inside my heartI can't breathe, I'm falling apart."Come help me" I scream as I fall from the skyYou reach out to catch me, then wave goodbye.I can hear your laughter ringing in my earsI can hear the demons whispering my fears.I try to call out, in a desperate pleaBut I know you can't save me.I want to go back, to change it allIt's all to late I've started to fall.I never even said farewell,As I fall to the gates of hell.I cursed myself, for that is trueThere's so much more I wish you knew.
The song of the Magpie One for sorrow, two for joy. What once was joyful, is now just sorrow.The bitter taste of today, is stale for tomorrow.A heavy drowse of a now distant past,Faded memories, of passings so fast. Three for a girl, four for a boy. There once was a girl who fell in love,Who had a heart as pure as a soaring dove.She met a boy with a heart of gold,Hard, metallic and awfully cold. Five for silver, six for gold. She was promised silver, diamonds and stones,Yet all she received was brass, ash and bones.She found the gold, in the best of others.Giving love and strength to her sisters and brothers. Seven for a secret never to be told.Lies were formed and secrets keptSerpents whispered while she slept.She let nothing bother her, had struggles a few.Though legend says for joy, you must see two.
I began to writeI began to write a verse filled with spite, filled with anger and utter betrayal.I began to write how I was truly hurt and all the wrongs that had been done to me.I began to write to protest on everything you had done, to shame you, to blame you.But as I began to write I seen that nothing worked, that I had filled the page with a vile and hateful verse.I had seen that what I had began to write was the beginning of a fight, a beginning of a war that would only hurt both sides.So instead if fighting fire with fire, I extinguished the flame, and made a white flag for my soul.I took a step back from my fiery attack.And I began to write this.
Take a walk with me.To the end we shall go, were ever it may be,Take me down the path less travelled, walk me through the sea.The broken glass of crackled hearts, were bare feet may tread,Along side the river of the dammed, the water coloured red.Hollow bones and bullet holes litter the sandy plain,Dried blood is the mark that only death may reign.Yet here we stand in fire and smoke,Drowning in it's gentle choke.One inhale,and off I'll sail.To a valley of eternal bliss.
My WingsMoving on to better things, I'm so happy I found my wingsNo need for tears, no sinking fears.A burning passion comes in roaring fashion.A smile I bear, free without a care.No broken hearts, or scaring marks.I'm moving on to better things, no more rocks upon my wings.
En el bosque I: NucesLos meses habían volado entre papeleos y regaños, los escapes y las represalias. Su cuello había dejado de doler y de las marcas no quedaba rastro. La resignación e impotencia que había visto en los rostros de los que habían estado en la junta de Aurem eran ya parte del pasado; sólo les quedaba… esperar, deseando que no ocurriera otro incidente.Sus deberes y la rutina se habían encargado de distraerle por completo de cualquier pensamiento relacionado con lo ocurrido durante la fiesta de disfraces, y eso era lo mejor, la tensión se había ido, dejando sólo un poco de cansancio.Ahora mismo Martius se encontraba regresando a casa tras completar una jornada de trabajo.Revisaba la pequeña libreta que le había acompañado desde inicios de aquél mes, ahí estaban anotadas varias cosas, algunas sin mayor relevancia que pensamientos esporádicos, pero la mayoría eran apuntes acerca de los casos
Waves of Loneliness 30 years. It has been 30 years since I was left alone on this deserted, dreary island. I cannot remember how I even got here. All I remember is being on a ship and there was a terrible storm. The ship was probably wrecked, its crew died along with the ship as it sank into the sea. I was the only survivor. That is all I can remember. Hmph, amnesia is not a man's best friend. I hummed to myself as I walked on the old stone sidewalk along the shoreline. It was so always quiet on this forsaken island. The waves hitting the shores ever so ominously, giving that same bleak nature. At first, I was quite depressed for not seeing the sun, but over time I grew accustomed, but I believe that only furthered my inescapable sorrow. I don't remember seeing many clear, sunny days. It took me a long time to figure it out. The island was lonely and sad. It had a near-eternal fog of sorrow and isolation. So powerful it makes any inhabitant dreary and sad. So powerful, it would never let go of its pervadi
The Ramblings of a Queer Kid. I'm not very good at this type of stuff, I always forget something important or talk to much about unnecessary things. I think I think too much sometimes, my mind runs a million miles a minuet until nothing makes sense. Sometimes I like that though, nothing making sense I mean. But I'm getting ahead of myself: Meet Your friendly neighborhood queer, the delightful carpet muncher from down the lane, The Lesbro. I am a lesbian. It seems odd to write it out, I've said it out loud, I'm done with the whole 'coming out' thing, but writing it on paper seems more absolute. It's both Terrifying and reassuring. I make a lot of jokes about being gay. I think it's mostly because it's better to laugh at yourself than feel ashamed. I learned how to laugh at myself from an elementary school bully, if you laugh with them, point out your own flaws, your mistakes, your shame-they get bored and leave you alone. I like to laugh, even at myself. I l
Angel WingsWe stood on the edges of cliffs, our eyes glued to the sky and never once did we look down. But in the end, long after it ever mattered, we did, and we realized that all the things we never cared about mattered now. We found ourselves more lost than ever before because there was a world out there that we always took for granted which offered an undeniable level of complexity and beauty and all the while we messed around and refused to consider it. We were lost well before we looked down, before we saw the ground and not just the sky, before we spotted all those little specks of city lights reflecting off wet streets and we wondered how we could have ever been so blind. Some of us tried to fix it, some of us tried to learn. And others, well they battled it out with bitterness and self-loathing, their animosity and rage expended outwards like a tornado and it killed everything in its path. They were the ones who ended up with eyes reflecting the star-light because they refused to really
The Ramblings of a Queer Kid. I like cassette tapes. They're hard to break.I wonder why Kai got back together with Dan after he cheated on him with a lesbian. I wonder why said lesbian cheated on her girlfriend of two years with a boy. I wonder why my friend Sara chases after a boy that will never love her back, so she settles for the title 'friends with benefits'. They don't really do anything other than make out and sometimes play butt-tag (if you don't know what butt-tag is, ask a middle schooler, I'm sure they'd know.) 7:58I get why secret santas are fun, but I don't know if I like them or not. I wish there was a rule where you couldn't just give candy. I like gifts that have meaning, like if someone gave me an annotated copy of a great book that would mean more to me than some kit-kats. Even if you don't know that much about the person, there's no shame in asking their friends what they like. Candy is boring and takes no effort.
Bounce WorldIt surprised me, seeing them like that. The kids investigated the blow up black maze that occupied the back corner of Bounce World, a dingy place that was intended for children but often found itself infested by hospital kids from the nearby clinic.The ground was a worn, sweaty carpet that they felt through their thin socks. There were five of them, ranging from ages of adolescence, all matured past their years as I ran through their veins.I manifested differently in all of them, I manifest differently everywhere, sometimes not even at all. When people don’t feel pain it means they are no longer in my domain, but the domain of death (which is often viewed as a dark hideous thing but tends to be a moment of light and warmth, pure ecstasy, far from me).Suddenly, interrupting my train of thought, one of the kids, a short red -head whose thin frail body was a result of me tormenting her for years, slaps the arm of the only boy, one who would seize and tremble as I would run throug
Judge meOn what you see, not heard