Princess: Poems

5d · 23

Mr. Pencil

Princess 5d

This is to my user
my user who writes without end.
The emotions built up in your confined heart
spill onto the page,
tearing you apart and healing you
with just a few words
to brighten the darkness,
to fill the void,
to steady your sanity.

My dear user, the only one for me
for years we’ve told our story
to the whole world to see.
And as I bid you farewell,
my time running out,
know I love all your broken pieces—
because that’s what our love
has always been about

Sep 19 · 808

Julia

Princess Sep 19

Julia

Wait! Wait! Wait!
I need you to hear her out.
She needs you to listen to these emotions —
the sadness, the anxiety, the grief in her heart.
So give her a second
to catch her breath and think,
to wrap her head around where to start.
So give her some time.
Patience, people!
Patience!

Sep 19 · 40

Poetry

Princess Sep 19

Poetry

Tell me, what is poetry?
I don’t know
or maybe I do, but don’t understand.

I’ve been writing for three years,
thinking it was all about rhyme,
about making words flow
fast or slow.

But I’ve read enough now
to know it doesn’t have to be that way.
So how do I write?
What should I write?
I want someone to read,
someone to like it.
But is that what it’s all about?

Once, in tears, I wrote a poem—
and it was better than the rest.
Was it the feeling,
the raw emotion,
that gave it life
it never had before.

Maybe poetry
is just the sound of my soul
asking to be heard—
with questions
we can’t stop asking.

So what do you think poetry really is ?

Sep 17 · 33

Your smile

Princess Sep 17

Your smile

I like your smile —
it makes me happy;
like sunshine on a cloudy day..
I know I sound cliché,
but how else could I tell you
that you're the one who makes my day?
So smile for me,
for that's all I need.

Sep 16 · 2.9k

Wonderland?

Princess Sep 16

Wonderland?

Welcome to my world,
the world you left me in.
To rot alone—
I hope you’re happy?

Sep 16 · 33

Fake

Princess Sep 16

Fake

It’s been years.
You erased me like I was nothing.
I thought I was special—
but I was just your game.

You fooled me,
made me believe.
But I’m not stupid anymore.
Now the lie is yours to keep.

Sep 15 · 2.0k

Addicted

Princess Sep 15

Addicted

I think I’m addicted.
I’ve tried to run so many times I’ve lost count.
Have you ever seen someone as foolish as me,
chaining myself to this gruesome fate?
It’s not like I knew this would happen,
but it’s still my fault.
Now I’m drowning with no one to tell;
I don’t think they’ll understand the mess I’m in.
It’s hard to explain —
I think it’s an addiction now.
As you can see, I can’t run away.
Will I ever be the former me,
the one who used to feel better?
My addiction drives me crazy.

Sep 4 · 34

The power of hope

Princess Sep 4

The power of hope

Hope is a force of belief,
Helping us navigate life's mischief.
Hope is something we all possess,
Something we nurture and strengthen.
Hope guides us through the good and bad,
Giving us a reason for living,
A reason to be strong, whatever the circumstances.
Hope—something we must always hold on to.

Sep 2 · 64

Just a thought

Princess Sep 2

Just a thought

I thought you were my friend,
I wrote to you every day, messages I'd send.
But then I realized you were just a fake,
And now my heart can’t stop the ache.

The way you spoke behind my back,
Made me feel foolish for not seeing your act.
But now I cry and try to move on,
Because not all friendships last for long

Sep 1 · 1.1k

When the Rain Falls

Princess Sep 1

When the Rain Falls

When the rain falls,
I'll be there.
When the storm comes,
I'll cover your ears.

When everything feels dark,
I'll be there to light it up.
When the clouds grow stormy,
I'll add a little sunshine.

I'll be there through the pain,
And in moments of laughter and joy,
We’ll stick together through thick and thin,
And together, we will conquer anything

Jun 12 · 61

Words on the wall

Princess Jun 12

Words on the wall

It’s unbearable to live like this—
with the words written on the wall.
My imagination runs wild,
talking to people who aren’t real.

Maybe I’ve gone mad.
Or maybe it’s the suffocating silence.

I see.
I hear.
I draw.
I sketch myself a clearer mind,
a little peace.

But the words on the wall—
they know me.
They whisper secrets
no one else should know.

I try to avoid them,
just so I can live.
But how do you avoid
what only you can see?

So I live with them.
I hear voices.
Go crazy.
Draw daisies.

But I’m breaking.

I take my meals,
go to bed,
but I’m fading.

Go to the hospital—
maybe it’s time for a check-up.
And as I tell my story,
the doctors look sorry.

That’s when I knew.
It was incurable.
Simple.

Schizophrenia.
Wow.

But they say I’ll be okay.

Okay?
Would I really be...
okay?

— The End —