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Pipe DreamsShe hates to read but loves to write
She's peaceful but she tends to fight
Scared of the dark,she adores the night
Scribbling poetry by a dim flashlight
Buried under blankets and sorrow
And would it be wrong,if she held back tomorrow?
With memories held to her chest,
clung to like a worn out teddy-bear
And when she closes her eyes,
She can't see
The pain surrounding her
Agoraphobic,she longs to travel
Too scared to do more than dream
She'll run away someday,she swears
When pigs can fly and dead men scream
That's when she'll free herself,yes
WritingI can't write
My brain fights
Every little rhyme I try to type
Every idea I have,my mind will wipe
Away like words in the sand
Blown away by a gust of wind,and
For every line I'm forcing out
One drop of rain falls to end the drought
Yes,my head kind of hurts
But I can write
RememberRemember the night
You hit me,
And said I'd amount to nothing?
Remember how I cried
And when mommy saw my bruises,
I did what you told me to
That's what good little sisters do
And then remember the day
You were the one to cry?
I'll never forget the way
You begged me to lie
Swear to her you fell
Oh,you prayed I wouldn't tell
And I didn't
Our secret.No one needs to know you're a loser,just like me
Remember how you ruined my childhood,
And remember how I never told?
Well,being the victim has gotten old
HumanShe's a geek,freak
I hate that girl
And she's so stupid and lazy
She's schizophrenic,and did you see the way
She looked at that other girl today?
Yep,she must be gay
She hears new insults every day
Piling them on,carrying them around the way
One might carry heavy luggage
She smiles through it all like she doesn't care
But behind the mask she wears,there
Can you see it?
She's just like you
Coming OutI've spent too long
Living with this repression
Acting as if nothing's wrong
And fear turns to aggression
That wasn't me before
I learned how to fake it
But that's not me anymore
And this lie,I can't take it
This is going to hurt,but I'm strong and I'll make it
All this time,I've been faking perfection
And if by baring my flaws
I will lose your affection
Then so be it
Facing RealityIt's hiding who you really are,because the people who love you most
Wouldn't love you so much if they knew the truth
It's watching new wounds form over long closed scars
Because old hurts always come back to haunt you
And the people who hurt you before
Always come back for more
It's when you're living a lie
And no matter how hard you try
You can't change the fact that
You aren't really good enough
It's when you've given up,and finally
You look and see
You'll always be alone
Or should I call you big sister?
You would have been older than me, but you left when you were still just a baby, before any of your little brothers and sisters were even born yet
Before you were even born yet
I'm sorry, big sister, or brother, or whatever you would have been
I wish we had met, that you could have met our parents
They're nice, and they love you a lot
Mommy was so sad when you died, when her very first baby died before she had a chance to live
I'm sure Mommy cried, but I wasn't there
I would have comforted her if I had been
I would have made you proud of me
Baby, I wonder where you'd be
If you were here today
You were beautiful
Just little hands and feet
I wish I could have seen you smile
I bet it was so sweet
Hi, big sister, or brother, or whatever you would have been
I hope someday we'll meet
I'm Sorry,MommyI'm sorry that I couldn't be the perfect girl you wanted
I tried so hard to be happy,but just like you I'm haunted
And underneath the laughter and the smiles that I flaunted
I was hurting,Mommy,just like you
I'm sorry I couldn't be strong
How it hurt
I'm sorry I didn't last so long
I feel like dirt
Because I see you trying to act alright,
Act alright for me
And I know it's my fault you and Daddy fight
I'm so sorry,I'll let you be
I'll say I'm okay
Just please wipe your tears away
The Boy Who Wouldnt EatIf you can flutter
I have failed you,
for you were not forged
to be so insubstantial as that
You were writ
to be an epic fable
of endings ignored,
of outlasting your body
through the sheer will
of a writers starving heart
through a broken, bowed
but bravely abiding body
that fights the soul
to comprehend Beauty.
BeautyI'd rather wear flowers in my hair,
forming a delicate chain
Than diamonds around my neck,
covering my tender blue veins
For with every precious petal
and every lucent leaf
I'm a living lesson
teaching beauty can not be bought
But rather it grows and flourishes
with every living thought
Expensive LiesI sit and stare at the toilet bowl.
A guy I know is bulimic.
When we compliment him
I see the twist of agony in his eyes
as his brain reprograms it
to sound like an expensive lie
that costs him another tear
in his tattered dignity.
Friends hurry to him,
to reassure him, to love him.
They tell him how beautiful he is.
We didn't know him before,
but he's definitely not fat now.
We whisper things in concern like;
body dysmorphic disorder.
'I know you'll never believe me
but you are so gorgeous -
not just on the inside.' Not just.
And they're right, I join in,
because they are right to say it
because it happens to be true -
he is stunning. Not just on the outside.
And we want him to see himself
the way we see him, beautiful.
And I join in because
I've felt that strangle of pain
in my stomach, bowels and belly,
when someone used to tell me lies.
So I know how he feels.
Only, he is beautiful on the outside
and I'm not.
He's not seeing reality in the mirror
and I am.
And people rush to correc
Fearing MeI'm not afraid to cry
and I do it
a lot more than you would guess.
It isn't always sadness,
I just feel like I need to,
feel everything so strongly
that it's the only way
to let go for a moment
because if I hold on for too long,
if my grip gets too tight
I'll break myself,
I will break you like glass
and we will both
I am a good guy
who hasn't yet found a way
to show it,
I am a good guy
who still identifies with the villains,
hides everything important
anything to throw you
off of my trail....
and I don't know why,
but I am trying.
Maybe I think
that if you could see me,
the real me,
you wouldn't want to look anymore,
want to be anywhere near me,
and the idea
that I can't add up
to be enough for you,
to be enough for me,
is so fucking heart breaking
I can hardly fathom it.
I can't say that it doesn't hurt
because it does,
it hurts a whole hell of a lot,
I've come to depend on pain,
to befriend misery
you're just a question marki met you so long ago
but back then our bodies were made of metal
and nowadays they’re made of the blades of
grass and dirt settling
underneath my fingernails.
my fingers are having a hard time
reaching the keys and
my organs are shaking mostly because i haven’t
eaten in two days but also
because i’m worried about the things you're doing to yourself.
we didn’t meet very long ago at all but it feels like forever ago
and you say you don’t know me
that you don’t know anyone
but baby you're turning into a skeleton and i’m peeling back my skin
to try and reach my bones, just like you.
i hope you're happy,
i’m covering the hard wood floors now
the bits and pieces splattered.
they are calling it a suicide but i’m calling it
a way to see my brain and
just how dark it has become, and honestly
i don’t want you to try and see about your’s.
i’m mourning the loss of my heart and wish you weren’t either -
Black hole BulimicThe Composition:
I birth poems — not amaranths
in graveyards — not gardens.
sows seeds of doubt
into skeleton weeds.
A farmer plucks the bones
from Apollo's hyacinth; his
I binge on broken
cracked collectors of rocks,
of pebbles kidnapped
from barren beaches:
where crooked kings
buried in books whose
pages creak to crickets
in an abandoned abyss
of an attic—caskets on
an antiquated shelf. I
choke on the dust and
twitch in recoil.
The bickering sky
A cloud coughs—
The clock's scythe hand
swivels to the beckoning
twelve. Spastic ticking—
each bleak stroke
of a midnight heart.
The sundials do not work
now. The vampires know
I kill poems—
obligation steam machineas always
grinding the cankerous
of your cognition
until the lack of compassion
leaves you unlubricated
seized frozen bound stuck
only then the machine of
your fears will burst to steam
squealing to suckle
at the genius of my
the unsung soiled hero
of middle-class ferocity
savior of the undeserving
winding slowly deftly dying
martyr to the self-justified cause
Sound PoemIthrumden, ithrumden delsum
nith mul thruss elmrissull.
Eth rut mundelliss
Curmiette dessel renrin
irme trell ithrumden.
as love for summer fades.late morning-
there's the tease of
snow in the clouds,
in the air, and the trees
have finally lost their
the sunlight is damp.
alters the room
as it graces my skin,
and for once
i don't wake up right away.
instead i lay
between my memory bitten
sheets, and i think
about all the times he said
that he hated winter.
i don't remember
when i began to love it,
and i don't care.
nothing can shatter that.
FreeI am finally
In my abilities
You can no longer hurt me
With disgusted expressions and
Eyebrows raised sardonically
If you don't believe in me
It matters not
I believe in myself enough for both of us
And I won't be brought down by your vicious plot
To destroy me with "constructive criticism"
With smirks and words of cynicism
For years you held me on a leash
But now,out of me comes a wild beast
And from you,my best friend,I am released
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