Midnight OceanThey've said the sands feel like silkThey were rightThey've said sea foam feels like God's breathAnd I believe them tonightI've walked into InfinityWhere a zipper-line crosses the skyI am not afraid of the ocean's salty kissI am not afraid to die
Laundry DayMy machines are brokenSo I dried my clothes outsideNow my socks feel like cloudsAnd my shirts smell like the sky
If You Could DecideWouldn’t it be niceIf you could decide what to feel?Someone could knock on your windowAnd save your life by laughing,“Let’s not be sad anymore”You’d wipe your tearsShed your griefRun from your crooked houseChase the starsIn your sun-stained carUntil you can sleepWith herWhen you cryYou actually feel betterWaking up in the morningShe’ll be in your armsAnd you’ll smell her shampooInstead of thinkingAbout the hurt that today is going to bring youWe could all decide“My heart won’t hurt anymore”And the bruises on your rib-cagesWould stop throbbingIf only it were that easy, huh?
ToleranceIn third grade my friend, Kaia gushed to me about cute boysIn our classOn televisionIn Disney cartoonsShe confessed to me in a whisperHer crush on Phoebus in “The Hunchback of Notre Dame”I didn’t tell her that my stomach filled with butterfliesWhen Esmeralda dancedI didn’t know what a lesbian wasThat information was kept from meTo shield my innocent eyesOne year when the family was supposed to go to Disney LandOur trip was cancelledBecause the Gay Pride parade was in townAnd my Dad didn’t want to “explain things to me”It would confuse meBut I wish he would’ve known that I was already confusedI thought I was transgenderedBecause only BOYS like GIRLSAnd if my parents had told me that love is universal,My self-loathing and shame would’ve have beenWashed away with a kiss of my mother’s lips on my cheekWhen I was twelve I confessed to my motherWhile she was making dinnerI lied and said I was “bisexual&
GuiltyMy left arm is bruisedMy right arm shakesThere's a pounding in my headMy chin quakesMy eyes are swollen shutSo that I will not see the dayThat God puts down his scepterAnd decides I don't need to pay
Emm (Part 36) Emm found that telling herself to stop and think about the situation from a rational and calm point of view was exceedingly difficult when personal feelings were involved. She’d never had that problem before now and she resented it. Not only that, but fear bordering on paranoia told her that there was no longer a way for her to continue in this investigation if her personal feelings were clouding her judgment. But finally, she stopped; breathed a moment or two; and threw her brain into the middle of the problem at hand. Not as a friend, lover, or even an acquaintance, but as the person she had always thought herself as; an assassin. Beck was very upset at being sent to prison. Was this the understandable tumbling emotions of the criminal being put in their place, or was it the panic of an innocent man? He obviously had it out for Stephan from the beginning; never left his side. Beck kept his beady eyes set on Stephan’s e
You Deserve to SmileDo what you have to do to be happy.Eat an entire chocolate cake,Swallow all the pills you need to take -'Medication' isn't a dirty word.Wear a princess dressOr a band t-shirt withJeans in distress -Boy or girl or anything in between,Stand before that mirrorTake a twirlAnd see how beautiful you are.Go for a run,Have some fun,Watch Netflix until your eyes burn,Curl up in bed -Take a vacation from your head.Phone a friendAnd talk for hours,Or stay in your roomAnd wait for the darknessTo end -No need to pretend,Just do what you need.Paint a pictureOr write a sonnet,Or just sit stillAnd breathe -Things willGet better.Pick some flowers,Take hoursJust for yourself -You are just as specialAs anyone else.
Can You Hold on One More Day?I read a poem about a boy.Who had lost all of his pride and joy.He wore his heart on his sleeves.Which were stained red,From all of the blood that he bled.The boy died...By the blade of a knife.That he ran up and down his wrists.And I couldn't help but cry.That poem was fake.There wasn't such a boy.It wasn't a true story.But... Then I began to realize.That just because it wasn't that specific boy.There are others just like him.Begging for death.Slitting their wrists,And hoping to die.Because so many times,They've tried,And so many times,They've cried.But nothing gets better!I just wanted to say,I've been that boy.At some point.I felt that way.And I just wanted to say,I am so sorry.I know it hurts but hang on another day.Another month,Another year.Please, stay with me dear.Don't join that boy,No, not tonight.Stay with me,Please?
Suckerpunch SweetheartRed lipstick war paintEyeliner eyes.I am a soldier in my own war;A force split in two sides.I am a force of natureBring about my own raptureAnd I’ll bring you to your knees.Say pleaseLittle girl lost.Cut off my hairCut into my skinPretty princess girlCardinal sin.Let me inLet me in.Sugar in my veinsAnd poison in my heart;I can turn bloodInto a work of art.I won’t go there againWon’t do itI won’t.HandsA sea of handsAnd andsIn my head.A universe inside.Dead.Icy skinFiery eyesNobody knowsJust what's inside.
Bullied On Our Friendly Website DA There was once a two authors on a website that wanted to let their opinion out.But a famous author set to put them out.She took the flame of these little author’s hearts making them burn from blue to red.And here’s what she said,“Your little fire shall extinguished because I want you to get the Fuck Out!”The tiny authors wept and cried.Wondering was it because they picked a side.Maybe if they had gone with the flow of everyone elsethey wouldn't have suffered being a different self?The small male author thought it was too much to handle and left.But the dainty female author stayed behind. HoweverThe light within her grew dimmer and dimmer.And its glow became barely a shimmer.Her originality became to be like everything else she owned: plastic.She wasn't real anymore; just another author following the trends.All hope was lost.No one to come save her.Sadness reigned within her, making her shallow and pale as Frost.Nothin
Eternity Comes Only Once ...In a dream of eternal youthwith beautiful eyes and unspoken truths,dancing on a thin thread drawn by Selenain a blue night when all four winds talking about peace;...In that unique poem when loveshines more than the Sun God on your ring finger,weaving lasting hopes on a delicate cobwebin a white day of the beginning of all beginnings;...In a cold afternoon of Decemberwith memories which surrounds the Arctic Circle,melting everlasting snows that floods the time, paradoxically, leaving behind them the fire which burns your heart;....In the black hole of a single moment,with pain, with answers, with courage, maybe with joy, or Not,Waltz with the time between seconds,Eternity comes only once...
absent resolvei.i cradle my hopewith both hands,as if holding it closewill give it the warmthto stay alive.when you come nearit flares and rustles,begging to take flight;yet i am both caressand cage.ii.we have confused our signals,mixed our drinks andnever together.closure looms ominousbut i would rather forgetthan be caught in thisluminous void ofperhaps -iii.i am weakand perhapsyou are blind,we, silent,are nothingperhaps we could beeverythingif only we spoke.iv.enigma,you have unknowinglytwisted yourselfin helical fundamentalsabout my identity,shaped me inabsence andthe embers ofa chance.i wish i knewwhen to releasethis frail hope.v.we're both drunkand you're shaking,caught in a momentneither here nor now.entwined fingersbring you back tothe present, and i lingerbut you are eager to eclipsethis vulnerability,so you run.vi.i'm too afraid to ask,but at least the question'sanswered:we're both cowards.
bound in retrospectpart i.let's talkabout wreckage and dreaming,about nights wept weary,and how city limitscompress to claim youwhen you run.let’s talkabout slippingaway early mo(u)rningand choosing dark over light;how eventually i stoppedwishing upon starsbecause really,what’s the point.let's talk;there is no true wayfor someone this self-consciousto let loose streams ofconsciousness,but i'm trying.interlude: youyou,you are an immersionheartbeatracing down my spine,along vertebrae as ifthey belong to youbut they shouldn’t,not now.you,you are long-limbed eyelashes,a study in faux-reluctance.you are a cagei never could penetratealthough you never had much troubleignoring my reluctance;penetration became a gamei never won.part ii.let’s talk;this was never a love story,but add enough adjectiveand i guess it can bewhatever you want it to be.warped to your ideal,turn me to my better angleand hide the flaws;hide the fa
Demons Can Feel TooI'll admit that I'm a demon.I'm cold and cruel,Hateful and quick to anger.I'm flawed.I prefer darkness over light.But demons can have feelings too.I can be hurt, offended.I can be sympathetic.I can care for other peopleAnd I can love.I may be a cruel being.Excessively so at times.But that doesn't make me heartless.Though I may seem so,I'm not.I do have a heart.And I do use it.Just not often.Because the problem with having a heartIs it can be broken.And I don't want a broken heart.I think maybe that's why demons seem so cruel and hateful.They're just afraid of getting hurt.
V o i c e sThese whispers in my head,trying to push me to the end.All I want is to go home,but then I remember,I've always been alone.
Past and PresentThe small me sits and criesChanting, "It will be okay"I walk up to the past me,Remembering this exact momentThe small me looks up and recognizes meAnd my face as her own"It's not going to be okay, is it?"I shake my head"No."