The familiar is all but lost
Relegated to monochromatic melancholy
This place holds no joy
Once soothing, now both dull and lifeless
This is not my happy place
This is not my comfort zone
This place holds no peace
Backed into a box of light gray
Shhh...
Don't speak, lest you be heard
Don't watch, lest you be seen
Don't care, lest you be hurt
This place holds no love
A hint of freedom long gone
An air of acceptance
Lured by what once was
This place holds remnants of a dream

Through one eye I see you
You're head is held high and eyes flashing with that dead glazed look
Through one eye I see your scars beneath your clothes and the dried tears upon your checks
And through one eye I see your regrets and the strength you have earned from them
The little girl watching believes you are a role model one to be followed, she plays the sports I play, she's on honor role, she's in all these clubs....
The class thinks she's joke in all the AP classes studying and still not being as good as they....
The mother looks and she sees her daughter growing into a young lady, finally blossoming intellectually, physically, and emotionally....
The father watches as his little girl fades away and a stranger is replaced one who will break his heart but mend it back together....
Brother notices her strange odd behaviors he is not around as much anymore, he realizes that the bond is fading....
I look at my reflection and see a 17 year old girl, trying her hardest to achieve in life and make a difference. I see a young women who is terrified of the real world but ready to take it head on. I see a women who knows what she wants, and what she deserves. I see a girl who has broken and cried so many times inside yet never breaks free. I see a million things, and still, not one of them, is good enough,
for Me.

rusty roses
once were blue
red or yellow
pink ones too
  
not delivered
to the one
young true lover
having fun
  
always meant to
spark a fire
for your eyes would
then alight
  
never got to
show my love
never had
my turtle dove
  
sorry that I
never sent
the rusty roses
meant for you

-
I’ve been walking this long hallway
for over a year
Reading the gilded framed
poems lining the walls,
verse after verse of
beautifully written words

I have made some good
friends along the way
Met some wonderful poets
who I have learned from
as well as learned to respect
and admire (watching far too many leave)
these meetings I will cherish

I have also crossed paths with a few
who didn’t care for me all that much,
hated my dreadful reviews, (blocked me for that)
misundertood my attempts at humor
or didn't appreciate the love poetry
I tried to slip in amongst the fighting,
but that’s okay, it takes all kinds

I've counted the masks worn,
there are more than two reasons
aren't there?
Some smiling, some not,
all there for their own reasons,
which it is not for me to judge
or anyone else, though that doesn't
seem to stop it from happening

Still little by little I have
headed towards a faint light
The soft glow at the far end
of this prose tiled floor
Each day the light became
a bit stronger, brighter
That tiny glowing square
in the distance
bigger and bigger

My shadow leading or following,
longer or shorter
depending on if I walk facing
forwards or backwards,
hop scotching over the hate,
sneaking past the accusations,
hiding from trolls (he found me anyway)
and the finger pointed whining,
hoping to pass go,
(you can keep the two hundred)


All the while sadly realizing
I am slowly becoming
smaller and smaller,
barely visible to others here
Disappearing a little more
with each passing day
Till now I am nothing more
than a forgotten minute speck
at the furthest end
of this meandering corridor

An insignificant silhouette
of a poet who once was,
now slowly fading
out through the opening
to stand in the bright sunlight
And as I refocus my eyes
to my new surroundings
I turn to wave goodbye
to what I so enjoyed
only to see a sign that reads…

*“Thanks for visiting Hellopoetry, whoever the hell you were”

It was just another day
We were going to worship and pray.
We didn't know that we were prey.
In God's own house-
Sacred house-
We were just nine.
Nine people.
Nine families.
Nine Deaths.
Shot and killed like fish in a pond,
Not a single chance to escape.

Goodnight, Helen...
my Dear
my Friend...

She was here, and now she’s gone
we had just spoke of the daisy's on her lawn
blowing in the wind
she said there were butterfly’s folding from within
beating like two hearts in love
drumming to the dancing stars above
She was here, and now she’s gone
Helen, I still hear your wistful song

Whisper me sweet lullabies
Hold me tight and promise me
That I'll never have to live without you