Gone I remember when I was young. Carefree. Jaunty. Sanguine. Small eyes fogged with lies Seen through artificial smiles, Drenched in delicate Perverse Calumny. Pleasing was always Daunting In a world expecting Perfection. More and more I have yearned for Their warmth. Craving praise in Every amercement. Only starving for A mother's love, Salvaging happiness To the last velvety Drop. Never once did I Bite the hand that Feeds, Meekly afraid of Doubtful scorns. Obediant I did stay While my childhood faded, Leaving what I regreted, To the hand
OppositeOpenDon't close itOnDon't turn it offColdDon't warm it upUpDon't pull it downInDon't take it out
AngerAngerAngerRunning throughmeI shakefuriouslyIt's unbearableI can't hold onmuch longer"Stupid"It's trying topush throughMy eyesI hold back itbackFighting tokeep myself together"Dummy"I clench myfistsExcruciatingpainI can't walk itoffI just can't"Stupid"It breaksthrough my wallIt falls on mycheeksSqueals andsmall whinesCome from mymouth, resolute"Dummy"I can't take itI'm done withthisIt breaks meI shatter topieces"Stupid"
How To Fit InHow to Fit InLet’s start off with your appearance.Because you need a disguise to hideInside of a crowd.Strip yourself of all of the clothing you use to express yourself.So you can get lost,And never be found.Fix your hair,Cake on some make upBecause in a crowd.Looks will always speak louder than words.People don’t want to hear what you have to say,They just want to see a pretty face.Fix your eyes that are too big.Too innocent.You have too many ideas.They rage around inside your head,Like birds trying to escape a cage.Free them.But never write those ideas down on a page.Because thinking,Is a sin.When you’re trying to fit in.Just let them fly away.Never to be seen again.Now that you’re vapid,Dull as a rock.Not an original thought to be seen.Yes, you’ve achieved‘Fitting in’But was it actually worth it?Trading in everything that makes you so spectacular.To fit in with the rest of the main stream crowd.Stop trying to
He Doesn'tHe Doesn't Love You.He onlyLovesThe ideaOf you. He Doesn't Treasure You.Not thePersonYou trulyAre.Only your body.He doesn't CareWhat You say.Only What You Wear.He doesn't Pay attentionTo what mattersTo you.Only to what has value to him.To him,You are Just like,Everyone else.Don't You Even ThinkOf sellingYour marvelous selfShort.
That's So Gay"That's so gay,"Is what you say,But silently,You've pushed oneOf your friends away."Oh no, honey,Boys don't playWith Barbie dolls."By enforcing gender roles,You are killingYour kids,And telling themThat you'll love them no matter what**Conditions apply.Don't push your loved onesAwayWith things you do or say,Because words hurt;But they hurt mostFrom the mouths ofThe people that told you,They'd always love you.Saying, "that's so gay",Or making them behaveIn a gendered way,Is telling themThat it's not okayTo be somethingThey can't help.(And even if they could,Why wouldIt matter?)And it will hurt themForever,And every time you're together,They'll be wondering;"Am I wrong?""Do I really belong?"Every time you say something like,"That's so gay",You burn someone's trust away.And you can't build anything backFrom ash.
A midnight confessionWhen sadnessenveloped me,I only wishedto put a stampon it,and send it away(the result alwaysthe same:return to sender)
A Letter To The Girl Who Hates Her BodyA letter to the girl who hates her body.A letter to that girlWho scrolls through tumblr.Admiring all of those models.With thigh gaps that look cute with skirts.And a waist that you can barely see.You're beautifulA letter to the girlWho looks at models,For their curves.The way their hips go outwardsAnd their size D cup breasts.You're beautiful.Please don't look in the mirror,And hate the girl you see.That girl is youAnd she should be loved unconditionally.Because you deserve love.And how much love is not determined on your waist size,Whether you're chubby or skinnyYou're still so very pretty.You're so perfect.So for every time you look in that mirror.And tell yourself you aren't worth it.That you're arms are too big,Your hips aren't big enough.Stop.Tell yourself.I am a woman.A lady.I am strong.I have a body like a castle.A kingdom made just for me.And I will not destroy that castle,By trying to starve myself.By taking brick by brick and dismantling it
radiancei am runningon blood and lightheart full,hands emptyfluttering firefly chasmsin spaces oncefilled.i spit silver silencesthat colour quickfirea vivid fragilityand dissipate,anticipation collidingwith anxiety.running airborneand unfulfilledi'm not faded;i'm flying.
The Girl Who Was Afraid To BeShe speaks to me fondlyof passions and talents,of guitars and stars,with such breathless intensitythen stops short andapologisesfor speaking at all.All because somewhere in her life,someone she loved broke her heartby ignoringher beautiful wordsand telling her toshut up,keep it down,nobody cares.People aren’t born sad.We make them that way.
You Can't Compare PainAny pain is valid.Some pain might be stronger than others,And might be there for more tragic reasons.But don't tell someone to be tougher.Because someone else has it rougher than them.The person you're saying that toWhile the stuff they're going throughMight not be as bad as stuff others are.It is still pain.And pain hurts no matter what type of rainWhether a drizzle or a downpour.You're still going to feel the ice cold water pelletsOn your skin.I've heard someone say,That you can't be depressed because you have a roof over you head.And while I am very, very sorry that some can't say the same.You should be ashamedFor saying such a thing.Pain is not something that can be ranked,It is not something you can compare.We all still feel depression and despair.Because we're all humans with emotionsEveryone gets sad.So don't go and make someone feel badFor feeling a certain way.
Dreaming Keeps the Dreamer SaneTo the dreamer.The one who sits and stares into corners of the class room.Dreaming of some place better.Whether that place is real or not.It is just anywhere other than here.We paint over the whites of the walls.Our minds are the paint and our eyes are the brushes.Turning ordinary objects into castles that stand 30 feet tall.And people into characters for our plays,That fill our imaginative brains.We tune out the lectures out of boredom or from wanting to escape.We turn the blank of our note book's pageInto a mess of jumbled words of a song.That we once heard as a conversation in a coffee shop,It sounded like a soft tune then, just filling the silenceWith soft mumbles and whispers,Of a stranger's life that we heard bits and pieces of.We create symphonies out of the rainAs the thunder rolls in the distance.We turn the noise into music in our brains.Something to distract us from the pain,Because in the end,Dreaming keeps the dreamer sane.
HimHe said he wouldHe never didHe said he couldHe never didHe said he shouldHe never didHe said he didHe never would