Meet me where
The moonbeams grow
And the sun likes to stop and chat.

Meet me where
The smiles prance
Through lush fields of poppies and grass.

If you never come to see me
If you never come to see,
I’ll meet you wherever you are
Wherever, whenever, you are.

I’ve waited
I’ve waited so long
Since the day
I asked you to stay
And I looked for you
Do you know how long?
I looked for you
All these years
But you never
Looked for me once
Did you?

I’ve waited in this Wonderland
So long that the lush flowers and plants
Rotted, so I was left here alone
With yellow grass and sharp thorns
I’ve been waiting for my knight in shining armor
For so long, but he never came
Where are you now?
You said you’d come back for me
But you never did.

Optimism
Or willful ignorance?

“Sanity is not statistical”
According to George Orwell
You cannot measure
Human brain-power
Insanity
Or any of the like.

No percents
Or dotted graphs
Can show you if you’re crazy.

You might be the crazy one
Or the world is the one who’s wrong.

Ink bubbles from my lips
Like blood
Poems are full of pain
Of course.
My eyes are black
They say your eyes
Are the pathway to your soul.
Sometimes my words are soft
A pillow
Of clouds
Among sunshine.
Sometimes my words are sharp
And lash out
CRACK
My whip of words sounds it’s call.

My presence is non-existent.
But you hear my whispers,
You crane your ears to hear me.

Who
Are
You?

I
Don’t
Know.

Why?

I
Don’t
Know.

Where
Did
You
Go?

Somewhere
You’ll
Never
Find.

She’s sad
She pretends to be glad.

She’s angry at the world
Her inner fists are curled.

One time,
Something sad was happening
Someone told her she was still smiling
She forgot to take of her mask.

Who would want to be a leader
In this world full of tricks
Where problems keep arising
Enough to make you sick

Who would want to be a leader
In a globe that slowly melts
Burned up from global warming
And the heat you’ll face if you fail

Who would want the power
That everyone knows corrupts
When everything you do
Will never be enough

Who would want to be the person
Everyone depends on
To make the hardest decisions
You must be stone strong

Who would want to be a leader
When you sacrifice yourself?
The most human part of you
Compassion, put on a shelf
To be forgotten.

Why am I not good enough.
I wake up.
I look into the mirror trying to remember what I look like before.
I walk into my closet.
No clothes good enough.
I find some people might like.
Tight clothes, uncomfortable too.
But the fact is that everyone will like them.
I put on makeup trying to recognize the girl I saw when I woke.
I can’t.
The girl in the mirror, stealing my reflection.
You walk into school with girls you don’t even like
But they are popular
That’s all you wanted.
You can’t though
Because you work hard at school
And you stop working hard to walk in with those girls
Why am I not good enough
You look at those popular girls wishing you were them
Why am I not good enough
That night you take off your makeup
Why am I so ugly
Why am I not good enough
I am good enough
Wake up the next morning
Wear clothes you comfortable in
Wear no makeup
Be the person you are.
Work hard in class
Get straight As
You are good enough.

Why am I still smiling
When the mourning bird sings
And inner tears drip in a pool
And the fire inside dims and cools.

Why do people hate
No good things will it create
All it will ever do
Is make people hate you too.

Why do people lie
Why do they always deny
That they did something wrong-
No one will actually play along.

Why do people scream
Yelling won’t fix anything.
What do they think volume’s gonna do?
It won’t help them gain any power over you.

One I start I cannot stop
So much to be said
All stuffed in my head
Thoughts creep shyly out
They soon get comfortable and run about
There’s not enough room on this page
To fit the thoughts that live in my brain-cage
So I won’t try.

You wonder this.
Well, you are honest and real
And you intensely feel
About your beliefs like I do.

Your not afraid to be weird
And when you failed, you persevered.
Your strong, but you won’t admit it.
Your humble and modest
And you need me.
Also, you love my crazy.

I love yours too.

A picture is worth a thousand words
According to many people,
They’ll just have to deal with it,
As my drawing skills are so bad
They could be considered evil.

I’m bad at it.

She would like to feel something again
She thinks she deserves the pain
She thinks she is a living sin
And that it is not worth living.

She is wrong.

I sit beneath the willow tree
That wilted, weeping, widow’s tree
That messy, mournful, martyr’s tree
Wishing for a better me.

I am the boughs, so bent and beaten
Desperate, derailed, defeated
Without respite, the worst repeated:
“Failed again, you failed again.”

Once, I was the vibrant green,
A softly serendipitous scene
With smiles now so seldom seen
That one day, might be found again.

I lay within the willow’s shade,
To wait and watch and let her sway,
She holds me in her vined embrace,
And says my goodness still remains.

The snow lands on your long eyelashes
Strike a few matches
The blinding white
Mingles with the white light
Not quite
In this world.

By the fire we chat quietly
For me a mug of hot cocoa
And for you some warm tea
This is the best thing that has ever happened to me
Not just chatting, but you
And the warmth of the fire
Mix wonderfully.

This Winter Rhapsody
Is a fantastic fantasy
Snap back to reality
I’m all by myself.

I wish I could believe the things I told you.

If I could wish upon a star
I would go back in time
And take back
All of the things
That mar
What was once a pure white surface
Of a soul.

I used to think
That the happiness
In life
Got ****** out
With age.
I always
Thought ignorance
Was bliss
And wisdom
Was a curse.
I kept screaming
“I DON’T WANT TO KNOW!”
Because knowledge
Is power
And with power
Comes pain.
But with power
Comes joy
And love.
With wisdom
Comes love
To be my lantern
In the night
Of pain.

I used to not be scared of heights
That was before I fell
Now all I want to do
Is stay safely on the ground.

I can’t believe how boring I’ve gotten.

I’ve got a friend who has
Words like a drum,
Words like a drum,
Words like a drum.

You’ll feel it pass through you
With a heart-beating thrum,
Raindrops’ pitter patter echo
All she has done.

I’ve got a friend who has
Words that come down,
Heavy like leaden-footed
Giants abound.

She’ll take your breath away
And you’ll feel it in your bones,
It shakes down the mountains
Wherever she goes.

I’ve got a friend whose words
Land like a punch.
Staccato but it always hurts
Far too much.

She fights every battle
Like it’ll make her enough
For words filled with love
While hers are cold to the touch.

Many of times a day
I feel worn and wearied away.
Until I am reduced
And a pile of me-dust is produced.

I’m running out of time
And I’m feeling kind of worried.
Then I’m like,
“Hey me, stop worrying!”
And somehow
I worry
That I’m worrying,
Because I know that worrying won’t help me.
But I’m worrying,
And that is bad,
Because I have always been told
To stop worrying.
Oh, but now I can’t stop worrying
Because you told me to stop worrying
And now I can’t stop worrying
About the fact I am worrying.

What’s the worst thing
Worse than losing hope?
Not having it
For so long
That you don’t know how
To hope
Anymore.

How far
Would a person go
For money
For power
For fame?

What would
A person do
Just for selfish gain?

Was the human race
Ever innocent and pure
Will we ever know,
Ever know for sure?

Would we all do so?
If we were put through the strain?
Would we all do so
If we were faced by the temptation?
Or would we stay grounded
Rooted in our determination?

Are we all tainted
By that bit of greed?
Or are we all strong enough
To not do the deed?

Would you recoil
Your wonderful touch
If you saw a few of my scars?

Would you walk away
If I told you just
How many times I’ve been marred?

Or would your embrace get tighter
Your love for me stronger?
Would you still be willing
To give me a sky full of stars?

Write to tell
Write to talk
Write to hell
Write to Mars.
Write for love
Or write for hate
Write just because
Write yourself away.

I’m bored so I’m writing a poem
But I’m not in my writing zone
So there’s no hidden meaning
No ranting or screaming
All I’m doing is writing a poem.

I am writer
Who wishes to be written
My writes are futile
None of them give to me
What I always wanted:
A story.
But I can’t seem to find
The theme hidden deep
In this encoded book
Of mine.
My plot has so many holes
I don’t even know
If my story
Ever existed.

One person in this world
That I’ll always trust (it’s you)
Two beautiful brown eyes
That set my soul afire (they’re yours)
Three weeks, and she had me
That’s when I understood my heart (it’s yours)
Four seasons in the year
That are better when she’s around (that’s you)
Five times I smiled today
Because of some brilliant thoughts (of you)
Six times I thought of the future
And it looked so bright with light (from you)
Seven days in the week
But the best ones always have someone (who’s you)
I could count all the way to infinity
Reasons why it’s always (you)

Have you ever felt
Super super strong
And then suddenly something
Comes and knocks you down.

But instead of laying there
Like a beached whale
You get back up
And you seek revenge.

But you don’t topple that something
That brought you to your knees
But you instead stand taller than ever.
You become so successful,
It’s like saying, “Your efforts meant nothing!”
To the thing that pushed you back.

You surged forward.
You are a Force to be reckoned with.

You are a star
You shine so brightly
You have a future
You are going to be okay
You’re my best friend
I will always be there for you
Don’t worry
Everything’s gonna be okay

I need to start saying this to myself

I hear your shouts,
Your screams,
Your cries,
Your yells.

I used to scream
But I stopped.
Because no one ever heard me.
I thought I would never be heard.
So I gave up.

I really hope you don’t give up.
Because I hear you.
You are heard.

You say you don’t expect perfect,
But I think you’re lying.
Because
You expect a child
That makes minimal to no mistakes.
Isn’t that what perfect is?
You expect a child that gives you no troubles.
That is
I guess
The “perfect” child.
Alas, I cannot be perfect.
I am a very troublesome child.
I wish I could mistake-less.
But apparently that’s not how that works.

Something about you
Just lays me to waste.
Something about you
Makes me bolt, run with haste.

Something about you
No matter how small
Always makes me tumble
Tumble and fall.

When I was younger
Things were simple
I was simple
I miss simple.

When you were younger
You were my best friend
We were best friends

Where did we go?

I thought you were ok
Guess it was too early to say.

Now you collapse in my arms
Your walls fall down, broken charms.

Your tears soak me to the bone
I feel cold, you feel alone.

You’re not alone.

You’re not any better than me
Just like the land’s not worse than the sea
We have different strengths
But that does not make
You any worse or better than me.

You lied.