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Jaden Mar 2018
Sometimes
“I'm just tired”
Means
I'm sad

Sometimes
“I'm just tired”
Means
I feel like nothing

Sometimes
“I'm just tired”
Means
I don't know

Sometimes
“I'm just tired”
Means
You wouldn’t understand

Sometimes
“I'm just tired”
Means
I want to cry but I won't

Sometimes
“I'm just tired”
Means
I just wish…

Sometimes
“I'm just tired”
Means
I want to scream

And Sometimes
“I’m just tired”
Means I’m lost
and I don't know what to do
© KMH 2018
Mar 2018
people are poetry

often times we overanalyse,
expect too much
and demand an answer
from the most simplest concepts.
the simplest people.

people are poetry
for what seems to be complicated
can be the described in the simplest terms;
if only ears are patient enough
to await the meanings that unravel themselves.
        
people are poetry
for they are simple
yet intricate,
coherent but complex,
and ever so full of meaning;

if only ears were patient enough to await the meanings
- that unraveled themselves through time and understanding -
only then will we accept that people are poetry.





-z
Hi please like, love or share if you like this :) I’d love to receive any feedback also.
Walking down the street
Looking so ugly
It can’t possibly be human
Though it is human
But only slightly

People don’t believe in it
They say it’s non existent
Though it does exist
You just don’t notice

Because you see
It walks like everyone else
It breaths like everyone else
It wears clothing like everyone else
But it’s a disguise

The zombie in today’s society
Seems human at first glance
It does the basic human things
Breath, walk, eat
But it’s hard

It can barely sleep
It lacks emotion,
The ability to feel
It’s a disturbance
But the zombie in today’s society is me

I am the disturbance
And just like the zombie
I may seem alive
But I’m already dead
So you might as well
Just shoot me in the head

Because
At the end of the day
Nobody likes
A zombie.
They say I’m
               “Just some girl”
         but they don’t know me

   They don’t know
                               what I stand for
   They don’t know
                       what I’ve been through

   They don’t know who I am.
   They don’t know anything about me
                      but neither do I.

   Maybe I am “Just some girl”

   Just some OUTSIDER girl
   Just some ASIAN girl
   Just some PRIVILEGED girl
   Just some ANNOYING girl
    
                       I AM JUST SOME GIRL

   Just some girl who CRIED IN CLASS
   Just some girl who NEVER TALKS
   Just some girl who NO ONE KNOWS
    
Just some girl that killed herself last night and leaves you wondering,
                                 maybe she wasn’t
                                  JUST SOME GIRL
Poetic T Feb 2018
I had entangled within her verses
                    that were never totally coherent
upon every verse.
               She spelt it in dyslexic
      dramatization  that I never understood.

We were meant to spell every movement,
                but we tripped over every emotion,
                and you were the thorn within me.
We never understood each others sentiment.
Claudia Darian Aug 2017
I am naïve skeptic
I am a bohemian capitalist
I am a sad corporatist
I am a misogynistic feminist
I am a misanthropic misandry
I am a traditional postmodernist
and a conservative liberal
I belong to someone, but mostly to myself
I am not yours, yet I am not mine either.
I am everything and I am nothing.

I am tender and cold,
I am sour and soft.
Darker than night,
Brighter than day.
Loving and spiteful
Caring and callous.

I am a poet concealed in prose
I am a writer covered in playwright
I am here, but I am also there.
I am an old novelty
and a new discovery.
I am a bit of van Gogh’s ear.
maxine Jan 2018
i came into this world 23 chromosomes of her and 23 of him
i came into this world for them to use me against each other
i came into this world for them to treat me like an object
THEIRS
no individuality
just...
theirs

years go by and i've started to discover myself
and as my petals open up and i bloom into the flower i'm supposed to be
i am rejected and have petals torn off one by one
"you're not gay"
"you shouldn't cut your hair"
"you look like a boy"
"you look so grungy and messy"
"your name is Kaylee"

but i was max
i was gay
i cut my hair
i looked like a boy sometimes
i wear band t-shirts and ripped jeans
but it's not enough
my individuality isn't taken into account
i am not a blooming flower
i am a mere seed
i have yet to be what they want me to be
and so therefore i am not anything
"it's all a phase"
"in 10 years you'll look back on this and feel so dumb"

i will never be enough
not for them
not even for myself now
nothing is good enough
i fight the hatred with knowledge and pride
and now i've just learned to stand to the side
as they come with their pesticide to run me back into the ground
tuning me out until i learn how to not make a sound
i'm tired of never being good enough. i'm tired of not being accepted. my birthday is on the 17th and i don't feel like i'll make it that long.
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