Protection pledge of best friends:
-As soon as he starts looking at you like a piece of meat I start looking at him like a potential shishkebab
-When some ***** has hurt your feelings in the name of pride I know you gotta act tough, take the high road, and be mature. That's a good system, so while you do that I'll load her Into a catapult near the grand canyon... or maybe a massive pile of broken glass... or even just a huge fire. That works too.
-If you're in pain, I'll listen to you, I'll hunt down the ******* who upset you and find out just how flammable gasoline is when you drench someone else in it then I'll buy you bubble wrap, chocolate, a baseball bat and a tub of ice cream slightly greater in volume than your house.
-I'll make you feel better about yourself when you look at me and think: ****. Comparatively to her,  I'm remarkably sane! :D
-I'll always be here for you

Repost if you love your best friends like sisters and would die to protect them
Comment with your friendship code!  Or with really any thoughts you happen to have :)

If you tell me about how I need to forgive ONE more ****** time
Or about how he secretly loves me and will come back to me
Or just in general if you comment on even ONE more of my poems with freaking MORONIC advice I don't need...
I swear everyone within a five mile radius of me will die.
You do not understand half my poetry
You tell me the guy I'm writing about in my poetry loves me but didn't know how to express it to me
Honey, that poem was about a lost friend who happens to be a girl. Not a guy.
Lots of my poetry is old
I post it, retyping the words on worn pages
I tore out of old notebooks
Just little snapshots of old emotions I used to have
Fleeting feelings I once had
And captured in ink
I don't even feel that same way anymore
But you seem to be under the impression
That every poem I write is current
So don't you dare
Give me advice about situations you don't understand
I don't even WANT the guy to like me anymore!
I don't even LIKE him anymore!
I don't WANT him to prove it anymore that he likes me, you don't know what the hell you're TALKING about!
And it is not a question
It is a FACT
I don't want him
He doesn't want me
And I cannot stress this enough
I. Don't. Want. Him!
Stop giving your opinion
On things you don't even know the first thing about
Because frankly
It's just making you look
REALLY idiotic

I'm sorry this is more a rant than a poem but I had to get it out.

That girl has a beautiful soul
And if you are lucky enough to have her
You **** well better appreciate that about her
...she's my best friend.
Hurt her, and I impale you. :)

Repost if you are fiercely (and occasionally slightly terrifyingly) protective of your best friends
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I’ve been lying at the foot of the couch
Not on the cushions, just on the carpet
With my lips shut tight and my eyes wide open
Finding patterns in the ceiling
Ridges and shadows form constellations
I used to do this when I was a little girl
Finding snowflakes and moose antlers
The traced outlines of autumn leaves
And pearl necklaces
On the ceiling
Shapes made out of the ceiling’s uneven surface
Shapes made out of shadows
I haven’t had this sort of space in a while
Space inside my mind
Enough space for trivial things
Like making shapes out of shadows
My darkest black has become
The color of the ace of spades in a playing card deck
It used to be the color of ash and coal
But my darkest black
Is so much of a lighter black now
I haven’t had room for thoughts like these in a while
There wasn’t room to think about nothing
Because my mind was being taken up by thoughts of blades
And numbers and letters and measuring tapes
But not anymore
I cleared out all that
And now I have room
For thinking about nothing at all
For making shapes in the ceiling
Shapes made out of shadows

Repost if you have room in your mind for trivial things now, and you didn’t before at some point. Or if you just really like to repost stuff, then you go on and feel free to do that! I fully support that! ;P
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Five people in one day
Have asked me the same question
And I can’t help but laugh
At such a wild suggestion
“Why don’t you have a boyfriend?”
They query in confusion
“I would have thought you would by now.” they say.
I’m amused at their peculiar delusions
“Why don’t I have a boyfriend?” I repeat.
Wondering what they’d ask such an obvious question for.
I turn to them, with a puzzled look
“Well, have you MET me before?” :D

Repost if people should be concerned about your level of sanity or if you just really like the repost button, or if- OSTRICH ATTACK!
Please comment! I love to read interpretations of my poetry or your thoughts on my work or on poetry itself as an art! 

I know your inner demons whisper to you everyday
That you’re never good enough, your smile is fake, you’re not okay
Listen to me screaming over all the lies they’re telling you,
I know the pain you’re suffering, ‘cause where you are now, I’ve been too
Don’t you ever let your measures get too drastic,
Just remember real beauty isn’t made of plastic

Repost if you know beauty that isn’t made of plastic. Or you know, if you just, like, enjoy clicking the repost button.
Please comment! I love to read interpretations of my poetry or your thoughts on my work or on poetry itself as an art! 

You’re crawling on the tips of fiery flames
You’re dancing with the shadows.
There’s no way back
You’ve gone too far
You’re creeping along
a bloodstained path
and it just isn’t fun anymore
not the same thrill to be the only one
“brave” enough to leap off the ledge
And tumble into a chasm of eternal agony
You got lonely with only the silence to talk to
Truthfully
You used to like this feeling
Like a sense of empowerment
Because no one suspects the secrets you keep
But there comes a time
When you don’t want
To keep these secrets anymore
You don’t want to feel strong enough to face the pain
You just don’t want the pain there anymore
You’re crawling on the tips of fiery flames
You’re dancing with the shadows.
There’s no way back
You’ve gone too far
No.
There’s always a way back.
There is no such thing as too far.
And I’m back.

Please repost if you too have made it back from an abyss of despair :)
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She met a boy
And she's in love
Her mother disapproves

Her mother says he's trouble
But she adores this boy
He's someone she'll never lose

Forbidden to see him
She meets him in secret
Every single night

He calls her many
pretty things
They keep their affair out of sight

The boy she loves
Has killed a man
Police are on his trail

She has a choice
To hide her love
Or watch him rot In jail

In the dead of the night
She leads him to the house
Through the creeky back door

Gun still in his hand
The pair tiptoe
Across the kitchen floor

Her mother finding out
About this situation
Is among her highest fears

They sneak up
to her bedroom
And she bursts into tears

What have you done?
She cries to him
He shoves her onto the ground

Tells her to shut up
Curses at her
Warns her not to make a sound

There's a pounding on
The door they came in
She follows him down continuing to cry

The stranger he owes
Stalked him here
And tells him to pay or die

Her lover's gun fires
The stranger falls
****** and still as a rock

They turn to see her mother
Who heard voices and came down
Her eyes filled with horror and shock

Without even flinching
Her lover aims his weapon
And says she's seen to much

Her mother's screams
Echo off the walls
She's bleeding and cold to the touch

Sobbing at her dying mother's side
He shoots her too
Saying I'm sorry it had to end this way

Then leaving them both
To die alone
Her "lover" runs away

Father comes down to his ****** family
She whispers Sorry daddy
He calls 911 and they all wait

But by time they arrive
Just like her apology
It simply is too late

Repost...if you like the repost button ;P
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I like you
I love you
You can trust me
I think you’re pretty
I won’t hurt you
I don’t like anyone else
I don’t love any other girl but you
I want to be with you, no one else
I don’t like her in that way
PROVE IT
...you never did.
Now I know why.
Your reason is spelled L-I-E-S.

Repost if you have been with someone who never proved it.
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My face is grave and unchanging
Like that of a marble statue
You attack me with your words
You scrutinize my flaws
Your voice devours my identity and shreds it
Your distain at what I am claws at my insecurities
You call me pathetic, you try to get a rise out of me
But I staring straight forward
Eyes open, yet unseeing
Ears hearing, but not listening
You scream my name
Over
And over
And over
I appear to be shrouded in darkness
Unreachable
Distant
Frozen in time
At last the echoes of my name snag my attention
I turn to you and speak
Did you say something?

Repost if your attention span (like mine) is too short for anyone's words to hurt you because you weren't listening ;P
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The match that starts the fire

By all means
Start a revolution
Be remembered
Leave your mark
Burn to the ground what you know is wrong
Stand up for your beliefs
…but keep in mind…
…the match that starts the fire…
…is never the same afterwards.

Please repost if you have stood up for your beliefs before and it has been worth the trouble you experienced when you did it.
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Glistening starlight
Piercing the chilling darkness
Eerie and haunting

Repost if you have found "starlight-hope" in a time of darkness
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Only 160 characters allowed.
It's a shame.
That limit restricts my emotions so much.
I can only type I miss you 20 times.
ImissyouImissyouImissyouImissyouImissyouImissyouImissyouIm­issyouImissyouImissyouImissyouImissyouImissyouImissyouImissyouImi­ssyouImissyouImissyouImissyouImissyou
But even if I could write it an infinite number if times
It wouldn't be enough

Repost if you miss someone badly. Or if you just really like the repost button.
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What's it like to be liked?
To be the one who causes that jolt
In the chest of the one who sees them and likes them?
What's it like to be liked by someone who doesn't just like you because they found out you liked them and they wanted a girlfriend?
Because I have liked so, so many boys
Felt that rush if adrenaline when they walk by
Gotten nervous when they speak to me or meet my gaze
But I have never
Ever
Been on the other side of that
Never even been asked to dance more than one time
And it has been nearly two years since then
And he was basically ordered to ask me to dance
I don't dance
But what I'd give to be asked...
What I'd give to be liked...
What's it like to be liked?

Repost if you are lonely. Makes me feel less alone to know someone else Is too. Or if you have never been liked. Or if you just really like the repost button.
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You're a hardcover novel I can't seem to put down with charming tea stains on your pages, endearing creased corners and torn edges I look upon fondly but I can't open you far enough to break the bind of your spine. I’ll keep trying though as I soak in and inhale every toxically flawless inky letter you are composed of, scribbling quotes from your chapters onto my wrists so I feel like I always have you with me until I know your story inside and outside, forwards and backwards, by heart. You have and immensely lovely and irresistible sleeve around you and a fascinatingly stirring summary for your description on the back but I’m more interested in what’s inside. It’s an incomplete tale though so I hope I get the chance to rewrite the rougher parts like the heartbreaking paragraphs of your past and maybe I’ll get to be a co-author for typing out your happy ending.

Please repost if you have ever experienced or are experiencing the budding beginnings of puppy love
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Remember that blue heart we wore on our wrists every single day?
It was a symbol of our bond.
Blue, blue, blue, the color of loyalty.
Well, Blue Ink Fades.

Repost if you have lost a friend.
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.There is nothing else left to say to you.
I have said it all.
Poetry is emotions made out of words.
And I only have these last few unpretty words left for you
They are simply put, but I mean them with every ounce of my soul.

You're not sorry
I'm not sorry
You hate me
I hate you
You hurt me
And those I loved
So I sure as hell
Hope I hurt you.
Just stay away now.
You've done enough damage
To last a lifetime
But I'm stronger than you
So I won't let it.

Repost if you know the feeling.
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I sat on a rock and stared
At her eyes the color of ink
Wondering what she’s seen
When she is ruffled by something
It is literal
A duck’s feathers are easily ruffled
But that is a minor problem
When we are ruffled by life
It can disorient us for months
Sometimes years
Sometimes a lifetime
I wonder what her life has been filled with
She swims and she dives.
She mates to reproduce, never to love and cherish her mate eternally.
The way (some) humans do. Or at least should.
She never suffers emotional trauma.
It would be so much simpler to be a duck.
No monetary worries
No emotional worries
No grudges
Only the concern for survival
I bet she’s never cried
And I have so, so many times.
She spreads her wings and takes flight.
The way I often wish I could.
To escape situations I don’t like.
Just flying away.
Her beautiful russet wings
But I wasn’t born a duck.
I was born a human.
And I can’t spread my wings and fly away.
And somehow
I’m glad.
I’m glad I can hurt
And I can feel
And I can love
And be broken
My main concern is not my own survival
Because I am not a duck
And I am not a coward
And even if I can suffer
What a duck would never have to endure
I can have forever from someone else
And I can become something
An artist
A writer
A dancer
A poet
An inspiration
A lover
A mother
A father
Okay no not a father
But I can make something out of myself
And the duck will always be
Well, a duck.
Also, ducks are NOT YELLOW.
…I needed to express that.
Rawr.

Please repost if you are happy to be human. Unless you are not a human. And if you are not a human, then I am kind of scared. Or if you just feel like reposting. Then you go ahead and do that. Have fun with it. :) woahifoundagrape!
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Why do I care so much about my physical appearance?
You think it's because I actually give the slightest **** about what you think of me?
Ha. No offense but I couldn't care less what other people think of me. I mean this in the nicest way possible but if you don't like me, ***** your opinion. You're beautiful and you don't have to think I am.
You think I would act like I was thrown into a ceiling fan as a child the way I do if I cared what people thought of me?
No. By all means, please. Feel free to find me ugly!
Write poetry about it!
Etch it into bathroom stall doors! Put up posters for all I care!
I don't care about BEING beautiful!
I DO care about feeling beautiful though.
Feeling like I'm not hideous.
Because it HURTS to feel that way.
Don't you dare comment about my inability to leave the house without lipstick on unless you have BEEN me for a day and felt this pain of inadequacy.
Please.
I really don't care if I am pretty.
I just want to feel like it.

Repost if this is you...or if you just like, feel like reposting.
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It's a late monday night
Or an early tuesday morning
I'm far too tired to decide which
3:47 AM
And you're not here
The caffeine from my tea
Is keeping me wide awake
It isn't the only thing
Keeping my eyes from closing though
You may as well be laying beside me
Because the thought of you is the only one on my mind
Except you're not here
Not beside me
Not holding my hand
You're probably still out
Knowing you
Her pretty little hand in your hand
And your precious little heart in her hand
I guess you were right
I don't know you.
I hardly ever did.
But just so you know
I probably didn't tell you more about me
Than you didn't tell me about you
Still though
You can spell my thoughts
With the letters of your name
It's a late monday night
Or an early tuesday morning
I'm far too tired to decide which
3:47 AM
And you're not here

Repost if the letters of someone's name can spell your thoughts.
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I'm THAT person.
You know the one.
The one you want to impale with a blunt object.
You will be texting them and you will disagree on something.
So they will tell you why they are right
And you will send them all these brilliant arguments about why you are right
And they will respond...
By correcting your grammar.
Yes, THAT right there, is ME.
Is it REALLY that hard though?
There is:
There, their, and they're.
Your, yore, and you're.
My friends and I.
NOT my friends and me.
If you're going to upset me, please,
Just kick me in the head or slam a hammer into my face but PLEASE do not say oxes. It's OXEN!.
And don't even get me started on it's and its.
When you mess that up... just ow. Ow. Ow. Ow.
It hurts me! Really!  Agonizing torture!  
One day I'm going to snap and vandalize a billboard.
When I get arrested for that, the sad part will be that
It will be because I was correcting the "Got Milk?" Ad.
Got milk.
Got. Milk.
I'm sorry, GOT milk?!!
Did you mean do you HAVE any milk?!!
But police don't feel that improper grammar is a good  excuse for the defacing of property.
Yes, yes, yes I KNOW I'm a grammar ****
But do you know what? I wouldn't have to be one if people would quit MURDERING the English language!!
So please, before I spontaneously combust.
Get. It. Right.

Repost if yous Is one of thoses persons whose bothereded bye theses stuffs and badder grammar makeses yous madder then any others peopleses on earth.
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Not angry.
Not sad.
Not broken
Not depressed.
Not upset.
Not even jealous.
I thought I was at first, but I don’t think I am
Because I really meant what I said
Reading that text made me smile
Happy for you
I hope it works out
I’m just a little disappointed.
That’s all.
:(
Repost if you are a little crestfallen.
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Grandpa brought me a dolly
With golden curls on her head
Dolly’s eyes so blue
Her cheeks a rosy red
I left her on my shelf
But when I woke up at 1
She stood near my toy shelf
Near a plastic gun
Then I closed my eyes again
But I woke up at 2
And she was halfway to by bed
So I ignored her not knowing what else to do
Then she was at my dollhouse
When I woke up at 3
Her eyes were dark and demonic
Staring right at me
I swear I saw her blink
When I woke up at 4
And saw my dolly standing
Beside my closet door
When I woke up at five
She was at the foot of my bed
But I didn’t get to sleep again
Because I was dead.

Happy Halloween!!
Please repost if you love Halloween!
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Right now you could turn around
and walk away
you could save yourself so much of that
You could save yourself the pain
and the anger
and the resentment
and the screaming
and the lonely cold nights
of regrets
and aching sadness
missing what you had
You could save yourself the happy days
before it falls apart
You could save yourself from an experience
that strengthens you even if it turns out for the worse
the days you finally smile again
after being so isolated for so long
You could save yourself the waking up grinning
and the nights that feel like they last a beautiful forever
and the lovely memories that haunt you
save yourself the fear of risking that brokenness
and all that possible pure joy
Or...

Please repost if you are going to act on that OR... in your life
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You need to be brave enough
To hold my hand
Even though haven't been declawed
You need to be strong enough
To lift me
Even though I carry heavy burdens
You need to be kind enough
To hold me
Even though I'm made out of shards of broken glass
You need to be tough enough
To be near me forever
Even though I am burning fire
Because love is impossible
But if you will be
All these impossibilities
I'll be all your impossibilities

Please repost if you want ti be someone's impossible
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You know me well
My name, my sense of humor (or rather lack of it)
you know my stories,
you know my smile
you knew my favorite book
my favorite color
and you were my favorite best friend
...until you weren't.
And now, you act as if
you don't know me at all...

Repost if you drifted apart from a best friend and you couldn't understand why
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So I'm writing a fiction novel

Cool, what's It about?

Well, it's set in a dystopian society.

So not very cheerful. Tell me about the society.

There are multiple different governments that disagree with each other, millions die everyday, people are tortured, some people are even killing themselves because of diseases of the mind, sometimes people hurt each other bad enough emotionally they traumatize them. People still judge each other based on things they can't change and your beliefs can get you killed. People shoot other people for no reason and there are always nuclear weapons pointed at each other. Crazy people and worse, some sane people ****** people remorselessly and so many people hate each other.

Sounds awful, what's it called?

Reality.

Fabric of fate, woven emotions, of which life is sewn.

My morning was Ivory satin
smooth and pure and bright
Birthday buzz and laughter
Bubbling thoughts of you
Noon was green velvet
Natural and warm and soft
Everything seemed to be right
And I couldn't wait to talk to you again
But the afternoon was black leather
When you texted me hi
Just to say goodbye
And the evening was ebony nylon
Flimsy, dark and easily torn
I tried to hide my crestfallen disappointment
But family is family
And they will be jerks
But no matter if you are immediate family
Or not
They can be your red wool
To keep you warm and away from harm
even when you are hurting silently
I shifted to a guarded charcoal chiffon
And he told me the way only a family member could tell
I know something's wrong
I promised I was fine even though I was becoming
Silver lace, fragile and tearing at the seams
He never spoke of it again
But for the rest of the night
He protected me from anymore damage
A tough sort of defensiveness
That meant everything to me
And for an evening, he was cashmere
Because I was touched that he could and would show me such strong family love
Without saying anything to me at all

Repost if a family member, immediate or not has done something kind for you to make them cashmere
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Her window was open
And her eyes were closed
She sat there in the passenger seat,
Music blasting
I could hear her singing
And her voice was haunting
Her green car drove past me
In a blur
But I recognized her face
From what feels like a thousand year ago
But was only a few
Back when she was a little girl
She finally looks happy
She never used to
…
Time passes and one day I’m at a bus stop
Waiting
Just waiting
I sit on the bench as the smell of cigarettes
From the smokers nearby
Engulfs me
And there she is
In the crowd of people
But I recognize her
I catch her eye, and I see her expression flicker ever so slightly
Her eyes narrow in dislike for a split second
But as if it never occurred, she looks away causally
As if she were staring at something just over my shoulder
Another bus pulls up and she boards it,
Flashing a polite smile at the bus driver
She is so much more pleasant to those who don’t know her
But I have given her reason not to like me, of course
One of those regrets you try to drown with an oh well
…
Fraternity party
I’m haven’t even finished my first beer
There she is, in a would-be modest dress, but she made the mistake of accepting a drink from a stranger so the front is unbuttoned more than I know she usually would let be, sober.
The punch was spiked, as usual. I know, because one of my buddies did it.
Too many hands on the giggling mess of the grown up little girl I used to know.
I never really particularly liked her, but something about it bothers me.
She is like a part of my childhood. Nothing important, just a blurred piece of the framework, but still.
I can’t let her be defiled by the man she doesn’t know with clear bad intentions who is leading her by the small of her back out the door, his hand slipping a little too low.
I tap the guy on the shoulder and he scoffs at my request to leave her alone.
She is confused but vaguely recognizes me and earnestly informs me she doesn’t like me because I didn’t used to be very nice to her.
I tell her I know and I’m sorry but she’s got to listen to me.
I manage to convince her not to go home with the man.
I get her to tell me how she got here, she drove herself, alone.
She is far too drunk to remember where she lives and she doesn’t know anyone here.
Reluctantly, I bring her to stay at my house for the night.
She vomits and passes out in my car on the drive there.
I carry her in and mean to drop her on the couch but I find myself pacing up the stairs to my bedroom.
I gently lay her down, and watch her sleep. She doesn’t scowl as much as she used to when I knew her when she is sleeping. I notice she is pretty, then grab a pillow and sleep downstairs on the couch for the night.
…
I wake up and roll over to the sight of her lying on the other side of my bed.
Her eyelids flutter open and I smile at my beautiful 7 year girlfriend.
A used-to-be part of my childhood, and now a part of me.
I whisper her name, and pull out a diamond ring.
…
Hop off the plane when it touches down back from my business trip and dash to the nearest taxi to the hospital
Maybe all those three AM cravings and watching my beloved wife cry because of the hormones will be worth it when I hold my baby girl in my arms
I reach the waiting room, holding the little baby blue (appropriately so) socks I bought for my unborn daughter, and a nurse stops me asking my name.
They take me into a room. Why is no one smiling when the most wonderful baby the world has ever seen is either born, or about to be?
The doctor comes in and as he speak I decode the medical terms and slowly his words fade to a ringing silence. All I catch is: I’m so sorry about your late wife and child.
…
Blue socks on my dresser.
Her picture by my bed.
My half empty bed.
Never to be married again.
Who else could I possibly fall in love with? Besides the girl with her car window open and her eyes closed?
…

Repost if you know anyone with a child or wife or both lost in childbirth.
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Surreal messed up poem. Only my friends will get the references.

Weaponized turtles
Moaning Myrtle!
Platform 9 and three quarters
Oops, wall is out of order.
Now you’re concussed
This makes you crazy enough
To take a flying car (because you’re fool)
To a snake infested hog with dermatology problems school
Adhesive sloths!
Polka dotted moths!
Oh wait, that sounds like butterflies
With this poem, literature dies.

I apologize, I just felt like writing something absurd and I am really REALLY tired and my brain pattern is weird, and I read too much harry potter…
OSTRICH ATTACK!!!
Hey, I told you I was weird.

I won’t let you scream


But I’m screaming inside



I’m the only one who can hear you



But at least you care a little bit



No I don’t, not even a little



Well, I care



You’re not allowed to care about yourself



You’re not allowed to control me



But you let me because you secretly want me to



Why would I want you to?!




Because it’s easier than doing it yourself, you can blame
me when you are trying to remember why you did it




I’m done speaking to you.



You’re never done speaking with me



This time it’s forever



It never really is though, to you forever lasts until you grow weak again. You get lonely without me



Not true. Leave me alone.



You can’t escape me, I’m always there, in your room,
in your home, at your classes, in the darkest alley you walk



This time I’ll just ignore you. I have to before you destroy me. I am strong enough to escape your voice.



It isn’t about strength, it is about possibility, and it is physically impossible for you to escape a part of you



I’m just a voice in your head, but I will NEVER LEAVE.

Repost if you have a voice inside of your head, even if it is only once in a while, when things get really dark
Please comment! I love to read interpretations of my poetry.

Swinging on a swing
Playground buzz all around
All alone
~
Now she can ride a bike
So much later than when everyone else could
But she rides it everyday after school
~
Climbing high on a tree
Can't get back down
A chattering crowd forms and teachers need to intervene
~
Friends turn on friends
And what shoes you wear matters
She doesn't like growing up
~
Her uncle buys her a sketchbook
She draws people, some crying, some smiling
In the back corner of her junior high lunchroom
~
First day of high school
Wearing the outfit she took forever to pick out
So many faces, so much noise, a new world
~
First date, and it feel like she's floating
A smile she can't shake until
He finds someone prettier than her
~
New boy who takes things slow
First kiss with his hands wrapped around her waist
A whole new kind of face to face
~
Graduation
A dress that slaughtered her father's wallet
Bittersweet goodbyes
~
Boy promises to write
They go off to separate colleges
But slowly grow apart
~
She hangs up the phone
After telling him tearfully it was too hard to keep up
And they stay friends but distant
~
Then one day not-so-little-anymore-girl
Is walking her dog early before sunrise back in her hometown holding down a job out of college
She's always been a morning person when her high school love stops her with his smile the way he used to
~
After the breakup halfway through college
Due to circumstances the feelings come rushing back
And numbers are exchanged before dawn breaks
~
White veil and red roses
Another dress to break dad's wallet
But she Is beautiful as the love she has for the groom, her high school love
~
Finally can afford a real nice house
Two little boys playing in the big yard
A little ******* her hip, daddy with his arm around mommy like he used to back in high school
~
Daddy comes home from the doctor one day
She is in a screaming match with her youngest little girl who has just turned 13
Daddy has news. One of these days, he won't be coming home ever again
~
Mommy gets a call after tucking the kids in
She drives recklessly to the hospital
But when she arrives they can't find any life in him
~
Kids grow up strong and healthy
Beautiful children who raise another generation of beautiful children
She is a grandmother, but she misses the would-be grandpa every second until one day she comes back from the doctor... numbered days left on her life
~
Swinging on a swing
Front porch in silence  
All alone

Repost if you know or are a beautiful widow
Please comment I love to read people's interpretations of my work!

So I have a friend
So beautiful inside out
Beautiful beautiful beautiful
FREAKING beautiful
Her silence is glass and her smile is starlight her words are silver and her soul is a creek
And her heart is woven out of ivory and ebony wire
Her whispers are pine tree thistles
Blowing in the whistling wind
Amazing person
So strong
So perfect
Except ONE itty bity
Little thing....
She won't tell me who she likes
She denies it's anyone.
She tells me no one has snagged her gaze
Her attention
Nor caught even the corner
Of her endless maple eyes
But I can see through denial as the
Letters fall away and change
Denies
D
   enies
   e
     nies
     Lies
Just tell me already! :P

Repost if your beautiful friend won't tell you who has snagged the corner of their eyes either ;)
Please comment!
    
Hard to make this one poetic sorry but it's a commom struggle with friends! So it's now my hobby to annoy it out of her :P

When my thoughts crawl back to you again:

So I guess I can kind of do think all this but not to me anymore you are worth all I didn't have but to go ahead and to risk it anyway because maybe I just thought you did but you didn't do it and

You assume like that would probably work out to me by the strange logic of

I CAN'T I CAN'T BUT YOU
ME THEN TIME WAS SO COLD AND I JUST I JUST I just I just


No. No. No. No more. Never. Always. Finally.  Ending. Remember

Block it out out out
In In In In letting you in

MISTAKE
MISFREAKINGSTAKE

Trailing off
Incomplete
No hint of sense

I don't understand them either.
I don't understand you.

Repost if you think this mixed up way about someone
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Icicles break my heart because they                                                      are like frozen teardrops that got
so absolutely freezing cold
They froze as sharp blades of ice
Until they eventually fall
And shatter

Please repost if your teardrops are frozen
Comment I love to read people's interpretations of my work!

Today I'm going to stop
This ridiculous destructive thing
I've been doing it to myself
For five. miserable. years.
I talk so much about
How I hate to be controlled
but this is controlling me
I'm wasting my life
and this is my fresh start
I don't want to paint over
the same old canvas
I've already painted black
I've gone down this road before
and I could have been a killer
I don't want to be her anymore
The girl no one could help
and just watched her waste away before them
I'm no longer going to count the numbers
and measure and weigh
and cry and hate
I'M DONE
it can't control me anymore
she told me she was worried about me
now I know it's too far
what do I care anyway about all this?
It won't be very easy
but I'm not going to do this to myself anymore
I'm taking this canvas and BURNING IT
I'm starting fresh
I'm done with this
I'm finished
I need to be strong enough
for her
I won't become a statistic
under the earth in a wooden box
with only a block of cement
to prove I ever existed
because pretty doesn't have a size
and for her
I'm going to stop
Five years
is long enough

I have an odd liking
For things like unsweetened tea
A little bitter and burning
But I can't live without it
Along those very same lines
I like the type who don't
Shower me in too many compliments
With an off balance sense of confidence
Too sugary makes me sick
If you aren't burning and fiery and passionate enough
To scorch me
You're cold enough to freeze me
Fortunately I'm not afraid of emotion
Or burning
Or bitterness
I have an odd liking
For things like unsweetened tea

Repost if you have an odd liking for things like unsweetened tea
Please comment!

It's so dark
It's so dark
I can't meet my own gaze of my reflection
The pain refuses to fade
It won't stop
It won't stop
I can't turn on the lights I'm too afraid of what I might see
The bleeding won't stop but I can't tell anyone
Panic
Panic
please please just stop
no one can find out
Then I call you
and I don't even say anything
But you see my name on your caller ID
and you hear the catch in my breathing
a stifled sob
I whisper: I can't
You say: I know
I'm here
and we simply remain on the phone
the empty dead air between us
not a word to fill it
but we simply exchange silence
and somehow it's comforting
but what twisted secrets we keep

Repost if you have a twisted secret
Please comment, I love to read interpretations of my poetry!

We all need that one friend
who is on your side
and fiercely stands by you
even when you are wrong
because they don't care
they care more about loyalty
than pride

Repost if you have or are that one friend to someone
Comment please! I love to read interpretations!

You have a bright smile
And you live in a dark world
Life will dim your shine one day
As your age goes up
Your hope will plummet down
Into an abyss of despair
I'm not going to tell you
It will always turn out
okay in the end
Because sometimes
It won't
But I believe you're strong enough to face it all
So I'll give you three words
To cling to through the darkness and the storms
That don't get better
Since some won't
I give you the strongest three words I can offer you
So be brave little warrior
I love you

REPOST IF YOU HAVE A LITTLE WARRIOR YOU LOVE IN YOUR LIFE
Please comment I love to read them!

She was kind of like starlight.
Glistening, quiet beauty.
Delicate, fragile, but powerful.
Nothing could dim her shining light, nothing could conceal her glimmering perfection, and she was herself to the end
...even when she was alone.

This is a free verse poem from one of my stories I'm writing describing one of my favorite characters I've created from her admirer's point of view.

Repost if you are a writer :)
Please comment, I LOVE to hear thoughts on my work.

Okay, so there might be a possibility I have maybe slightly convinced myself that I may theoretically have developed the beginnings of the tiniest dollop of a smidgen of an enormous crush on you.

So please don't break me.

REPOST IF THIS IS YOU RIGHT NOW
please comment I love to read thoughts on my work!

There's no such thing as happily ever after. No harmony lasts that long.  There is such a thing as forever though. Loving someone forever even during rough patches when the harmony slides off key until it gets better. Because it will.

REPOST IF YOU HAVE PROMISED SOMEONE FOREVER, AND MEANT IT.
Please comment I love to read other people's interpretations of my poetry!

I'm
                                             sorry for
                                       when I respond
                                            too quickly
                                              when I
                                               forget
                                                   to
                                                play
                                              it cool
                                         and not act
                                       too over eager
                                        because I get
                                         caught up
                                                in
                                             your
                                         perfection.
                                     Sorry for when
                               I take ages to answer
                            because I can't think of a
                              witty way to respond
                                 that I won't regret
                                      seconds after
                                           clicking
                                             send
                                                 to
                                             match
                                       every clever
                             phrase you type but it
                                seems I do anyway
                                    Sorry for being
                                      too forward
                                       sometimes
                                       I just really
                                         like you
                                          and I'm
                                           so sick
                                               of
                                            playing
                                       mind games                                                                
                              I don't know the rules
                           to so I'm just going to flirt
                            like there is no tomorrow.
                           Sorry for when I complain
                               too much and bag on
                                     myself, I've just
                                          run out of
                                            happy
                                        thoughts to
                                         share with
                                          you since
                                            you are
                                                my
                                              main
                                     sunny moment
                              in my day and I have
                           been too irreparably broken
                       so that the confidence I once had
                       can't make it back in ever again.
                          Sorry for when I keep secrets
                            from you it's just that some
                               crevices are too dark and
                                    deep to be explored.
                                          Some scars are
                                            carved in too
                                                hard to be
                                                  healed
         &nbs

Can’t forgive
Can’t forget
I have to let you go

I cried for you
I’d die for you
I miss you more than you know

You wrote me
An angry note
And slipped it into my hand

With accusations
Made of furious ink
Telling me your pain is more than you can stand

But near the note’s end
You write the phrase I love you
I break down crying there and then

I cut out that sentence
In your perfect handwriting
And read it over and over again

Love and hate
Aren’t opposites
We loathe and love each other to death

Maybe it would hurt less
If we didn’t care
But we do and it gets worse with every breath

I wish we could have it back
But the bond’s too broken to repair
And it kills me more to stay

I’ll miss you past the (wh)Y
In eternallY
But I have to walk away

REPOST IF YOU UNDERSTAND AND LOVE AND LOATHE SOMEONE SIMULTANEOUSLY
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I make a point of wearing silver instead of gold when I can
Because gold is first place
Everyone wants to be golden
So many poets agree sunset and dawn
Are the most beautiful times of day
Both of which are golden
But I disagree
Nighttime has its own peculiar but enchanting charm
With its crowning jewel, the silver moon.
To me, it is agony like no other that surpasses not placing at all
To be placed second
To have come so close
Yet fall just one place short
And watch as the Golden one
Outshines you, the Silver.
As a tribute to the unspoken grievers
The Silvers with their quiet beauty like the darkness
Just before dawn, yet unloved for they fell short
I wear silver.
For the Silver Seconds.

Please repost if you are a Silver too
Comment please! I love to read interpretations of my work.

The boy next door
He moved here when we were both still little
Years and years ago
He used to come over
and play monopoly with me
And we'd argue about the rules
But he was one year older
And back then it didn't matter
But we slowly grew
like two flowers on a single stem
up and apart
I started to notice him for what he was
Green eyes and freckles
A smile like twilight's glow
Muscular and attractive
With his red baseball cap
And his music blasting
from his open garage door
And I like him
But he sees me as a little girl
I peek through the curtains
Every time I hear the echoing
of a basketball hitting the pavement
I watch him and catch his eyes every so often
An addictive terrified thrill courses through me everytime
Now he can drive
And I'm still so small to him
But time goes on
Now I'm a big girl
I'm not the little girl who plays with his little sisters anymore
I am just me
He came for dinner one night with his family
And I tried to sit next to him
But it didn't work out
But he is breathtaking
It's been years
When will I stop being a little girl to him?
When will he see me as the girl next door
Maybe never
But to me
He will always be incredible
He will always be
The boy next door

Repost if you have or had a "boy next door".

Six years old
My pretty box
of pretty things
a little girl's collection
a pebble, a purple sequin, a lock, and a sticker, pencil leads, and a rose petal I found on the ground in the rain but I ran back to save it.
Precious things
Collections of the young will always remain a mystery to the jaded adults who grew out of simple happiness far too long ago
Then one day
My box slips off the counter
and I search desperately in the carpet for my pretty things
tearstained face and choking on sobs
not my pretty things
not my pretty things
I find my pebble
I find my purple sequin,
my lovely silver lock,
my special sticker,
all three pencil leads,
...but my rose petal
is gone
except for a couple crumbling dried pieces of it
on the ivory carpet
and the rest of it could be anywhere
I can't find it
it's gone
it's gone
my pretty, pretty rose petal that I loved so much
that I saved from the rain
...but sometimes even if you save something... or someone...
from the rain and love it for a long time, when things fall, you can lose them forever, knowing they are crumbling and not whole anymore
but you can't help them
What you save and love,
you can still lose.

Repost if you had a box of pretty things when you were little.
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The boy with the nice eyes
I saw you on the first day
And I liked your eyes
Green and glistening
Like tiny ponds of mystery
I wonder what your irises hide.
You smile and laugh
with your many friends
You don't even know my name
But I know yours
What are names anyway?
A title of our own, yet out of our control
And I noticed your new haircut
before half your friends did
I doubt I'll ever work up the nerve
To even talk to you
Or meet your glossy fern green gaze
But I still whisper
Whenever you pass by
The name I know you by
Despite knowing your real birthname
I'll still call you this
And murmur the phrase to my friends
There goes the boy with the nice eyes

Repost if you have been struck by the beauty of someone's eyes before. Unless I'm just weird and the only one who has.
I love to read interpretations and thoughts on my poetry so please comment!

1 Screaming at all hours, sleep is my enemy. My greatest fear is loud sounds and bright lights.
2 Daddy is a tall giant and the smartest man in the whole wide world, mommy is the best mommy ever. Also, touching the fire on birthday candles is not allowed. Or singing at the table. Or watching scary commercials because mommy is tired of me waking her up at 3AM with my nightmares about the big hungry man in the commercial. My greatest fear is being alone in the dark.
3 I’m still too young to know real hurting, I’m unscarred and the greatest tragedy I’ve experienced is a skinned knee and having my favorite stuffed animal taken from me overnight for bad behaviour. My greatest fear is the day I get married and have to live away from my parents.
4 I’m too short to see myself in the bathroom mirror, the counter is in the way. My greatest fear is the monsters under my bed.
5 I have a birthday party and invite every person I know because I’m friends with everyone. My greatest fear is being in trouble with my teacher for talking in class.
6 I’m a big girl now, I can help mommy with dinner…by tasting her ingredients. I don’t understand why those people on the show daddy watches called The News **** each other. Why does anybody hate anyone? Why are grownups crying? Big girls don’t cry. My greatest fear is quicksand, but fortunately I have multiple plans on how to escape quicksand.  
7 Daddy is teaching me how to ride a bike without training wheels and it is scary and I’ve fallen off alot. He told me he wouldn’t let go! I can’t believe he lied to me! I cry and cry but look! Look, I’m doing it mommy! Look! CRASH. I’m starting to read big girl books more easily now. No pictures and only words isn’t as bad as I used to think. One day, I want to be a writer. My greatest fear is falling off my bike.
8 Boys are yucky, and not every girl is my friend anymore. It’s strange, the girls I used to play with have their own friends now. I’m not one of them anymore. A girl told me I was ugly and I felt this odd feeling in my chest like I was falling. Why did it hurt? The only things that are supposed to be able to hurt you are things you can see like knives (which I’m not allowed to use) or falling down, I thought. A girl tells me I am dumb. What a bad word to say, I’m NEVER allowed to say it. It is a mean and a bad word. When I grow up, I’ll never swear. I thought the bad guys were the only mean people in the world? I thought they wore black capes and lived in scary glowing castles like in the movies. The pretty girls in my class who look like princesses are saying things to each other and me that sound like the bad guy’s line in a movie? Why is this happening? I wish on the star every night like princesses do for the girls to stop hurting each other with their words. My greatest fear is that my wish won’t come true.
9 Did you know that fairy tales aren’t real? Did you know that it matters how your hair looks and where you buy your clothes and how many friends you have? Did you know other people care about what you have for lunch? Apparently, those things are true. I don’t like everyone anymore and not everyone likes me. People say some things to me that hurt my feelings and I make someone else cry because I said something just as mean back because I was angry. I didn’t mean to hurt them even though they hurt me. I do things I regret. Am I a bad guy now too? My greatest fear is of becoming a bad guy.
10 I am not a little girl anymore. Girls are turning on girls. Boys are liking girls. Not me of course, but other girls. Suddenly, everyone thinks they are a teenager. Someone calls me fat. Someone says I’m ugly. Someone says I’m dumb. Someone says I’m weird. I like a boy, but he could never like me. Less and less friends, life is growing uglier and far, far colder. Quicksand did not turn out to be as big a problem as I imagined when I was little. Suddenly, I grow up far faster than I should, because if I don’t, I’ll spend way too much time crying. The boys are playing a game at lunchtime, who would you marry if you had to marry someone in the class. One of the boys says he’d: “pick someone stupid like: My name.” Why did my name finish his sentence? “Then I’d shoot her in her sleep after we were married.” He finds out I heard what he said. He tries to talk to me, to apologize but I don’t want to speak to him. I refuse to cry over this. I’m not a baby. But it secretly hurts a lot. I never speak to him ever again. Not a word the whole year, or the next or ever. My greatest fear is being unwanted. And I am.
11 Boys are mean and girls are heartless and cruel. Girls hate me, I hate girls. I hate myself, I hate school, I hate hating everything. I feel worthless, why is everybody else so pretty and perfect? I haven’t been invited to anyone except my best (and only) friend’s birthday party for 3 years. I get invited to a sleepover with girls who don’t like me and I don’t really like them but I don’t know them too well I just know their names and when they think I am asleep I hear them start to talk in-depth about why I am ugly. Scarred. Humilated. Scarred. Broken. Mostly scarred. Why am I so ugly and worthless and fat and stupid? My greatest fear is the monsters inside of my head.
12 New school, new friends, new life. So happy. So, so happy and free. Friends who actually care about me. Friends who heal me. Closer than friends, like sisters. Not alone anymore. My greatest fear is losing all that.
13 Everything is perfect, and beautiful and I am so happy I could cry. I laugh all day and love my life. Until May. Then it fall apart. Jealousy, lies, family problems at home, pasts collide, friends are fake and sisters forever fades into a broken promise. I hate my friend but God, I love her like a sister even though I loathe her so much. It hurts it hurts and I start to feel ugly again. I scar myself, I do terrible thing to my body and myself. I only have a few friends left, but now I know who is loyal, and who never was. My greatest fear is everything that is happening to me as my world crashes, crumbles and burns all around me.

Many years pass, but my mind, soul, and heart are unchanged. Though my age grows larger, I never grow past it all. I’m reliving it all over and over, I still hate myself. Chained to 13.

Please repost if you are trapped in the past too.
Comment! I love to read other people's interpretations and thoughts on my work!