Crush

I am moved

By your soft touch,

The hand you place

On my shoulder

Gives way to my heart,

I know there is more

To life than love,

And more to love

Than feeling,

But the connection is lost

Between fuzzy lines

Of glazed eyes

And blind emotion.

Stone Statue

The weeks are running together in an endless array of days. I don't realize the time passing by, only that things around keep moving, what seems to be faster and faster each day. I am left alone, a statue engraved out of stone to watch the years go by me, people walk by me, cities grow around me. I wear down more and more with each passing month, but my feet are still implanted in the rock they were once carved from. Unable to move, unable to change anything, I am left standing unprotected from weather or birds. My stone eyes project the hallow emptiness I feel inside, their sadness looks upon the land with jealousy, secretly wishing to feel the happiness others call their own. I stand apart from the world, a wallflower, a statue created for the passerby to look upon for a moment and move on. Created to lead a lonely life masked by molded beauty. I am that sorry figure slumped to one side, teary eyes gazing down to the ground, too ashamed to look up at the world, the lone stone figurine placed in the corner, left to deteriorate with the rest of the planet.

Souls Erupting

All that lay awake

During the witch's hour

Dwells on the mind's wanderings,

Not a second to spare

In the course of neurons' antics,

Gone away,

Past the glass ceiling of knowledge,

Toward cloudless skies

So bright it's presence

Hurts all it touches,

An awakening process

Takes place,

The growth of a new

Outlook on an

Old place

Surrenders tears of love

Across the empty plains

And busy cities,

Knowing there is hope

For a better ending.

Forgotten

The beauty in this world

Is masked by meat packaging

And big, colorful labels,

But through the layers

Lies bright ideas

Itching to touch the

Dirty surface of this

World's soil,

Camofloged by

Human inventions,

The naked eye cannot

See beauty

Where it truly lies,

Only make up

A new definition for the word

Since the truth has been

Forgotten underneath

The packages of meat.

Farts

Farts

Spill out,

Screaming

About

Things ingested,

Telling the truth

Of their awfulness

And all you

Snuck

From the fridge

Last night,

Dropping your

Dirty little

Secrets

On the

Doorsteps of

Passerbys.

Stupid Life

The days move by

Without stopping to

Help a fallen soldier,

Remorse is unknown

And life's bitterness

Leaves an awful

Aftertaste on the tongue,

There is no end

After this beginning,

A long road of hopelessness

Lies ahead,

There is no escaping

This never ending story.

Tears of Anger

I keep hoping life will get better. Mostly everyone older I have talked to says college is the best time in your life, others argue high school, however apparently the best time in one's life is when they are in school. I have to say, I am not having the best time in college, and high school was a nightmare for me. I know I loathe college because I made it an awful experience by not studying and such but the real reason I do not like college is because I never even got to apply to the places I wanted to go, like Boulder Colorado, NYU, Brown and many other northern schools. I was accepted to Salisbury in Maryland and offered a scholarship but was not allowed to go. It is all my fault, I should have fought harder to go to the school I really wanted to be at. I feel like the fact I did not attend the college of my choices lends to a lot of my failure during my collegiate years. I should have pushed harder. Now I am terribly unhappy and feel like a failure. I really just want to die very soon because I am a bum, a nobody and a complete failure in human society. I have nothing to offer the world, and I am giving up. I hate how my life has been and how it has turned out. I am crying out of self pity which angers me even more, I hate myself for pitying myself so much. I see no escape for myself. No escape except death. 

Too Full to Function

Hunger persists,

Mouth watering,

Teeth clenching,

Eyes rummaging,

Filling up

More than a stuffed

Pig,

The ability to walk is

Limited,

While a disgusting

Feeling sweeps over

The body.

Change Is Hard

Fresh eyes

Stare upon the unknown

Terrain of what was

Once known all too well,

All is the same,

Yet rearranged,

Hiding in corners

And drawers,

You know not where

To look,

Annoyance overcomes

The brain,

And anger takes over

The body,

Why this has happened

Is undefined,

But you must cope with it,

Like it or not,

Change is hard

Whether a surprise or devised.

Cramps

A strong burst

Inflames my insides,

Knotting my waist

At all angles,

Walking is difficult,

Sitting pangs the abdomen,

While laying spreads

The hurt like a

Wildfire;

The clash of the Titans,

The roar of the angry ocean,

The supernova of the sun,

All erupting inside my

Tiny body,

The pain is almost unbearable,

I know not what to do

Since medication fails to

Kill the pain,

A tear falls onto my lap,

My eyes grow heavy

And I fall into sleep,

Fighting to forget

The battle my body

Wars against

Mother Nature.

The Large Cotton Balls Above

Dark, tumbling

Cotton balls

Rain down,

Resting their fingertips

In my hair,

Guiding me, though

I do not know where,

Their incandescent

Beauty purifies

Each soul their

Wet fingers touch,

I know there is

Something to this

Ritual of the grey

Cotton balls above.

Totally High Fashion

Water bottles

And barbie models,

Talk of their want

For food, it taunts

The choice to make

For their thinness' sake,

Don't eat,

Don't eat,

Then they will pack on meat, 

Not the look desired 

For models who are hired.

Woops, I Must Have Done It Again

One mistake

Too many

Has me begging myself

For forgiveness,

Knowing not

What I do

Is wrong or right,

Confusion sets in

The troubled

Teenage mind,

Boredom fills

My nerves,

Leaving biased

Decisions to

Prevail in a

Nasty hail of wrongness.

Brain Aneurysm

A fuse has blown,

The brain is not right,

Thinking is impaired

And choices are bad, 

What has gone wrong,

When everything was just fine,

Something has been broken,

And nothing will be the same

For this brain today.

Reality of Dreams

As a little girl I dreamed of 

Being famous, 

Maybe an actress or rock star,

Then my goal was

Dolphin trainer, 

Gynecologist crossed my mind,

I reached for the stars in 

Art, yet

Poetry was there all along.

I have dreamed of many things,

And have wanted many more,

But now that I'm nineteen,

I see the lies of each dream,

Knowing now that 

Imaginations don't create the

Dream,

Hard work is the key,

What a pity 

Since too much work makes me go 

Slightly crazy. 

Perfect Person, How I Envy You

All eyes are on you,

Pretty face

Speak slowly,

Holding the

Attention span,

Perfection in a

Silhouette so small,

Capture the world

In your charm

And the jealousy

Of its inhabitants.

Walls Are Closing In

Cream walls 

Surround me,

Closing in 

Terrified eyes 

Produce salty liquid,

Ears ringing, 

Lips trembling, 

Body shaking,

"All is lost,"

They scream,

I shout back,

Yet they do not 

Hear,

Closer they 

Creep,

Imprisoning me 

Inside their

Dullness,

Away the sun,

In a tiny square 

Filled with

Pain. 

Fatty Flesh

Flesh 

Turns to fat

Melting off skin,

Bubbles and

Bumps form,

Mountains of

Squishiness 

Pillows 

Children's heads,

While garments

Hold lumps in 

One place. 

The Dress

The dress she wears

Is old and bright,

Draping her body 

Like gypsies' garments,

It flows as she

Moves,

And cries for freedom,

The dress she wears 

Calls it colour 

Lily blue,

Both solemn and bold,

She floats down the street

In the garment,

Telling the world 

The ways of her days. 

To Grandmother's House We Go

All the things I loathe with a heavy heart

Seem to follow me each and every day,

From the wild waters of the ocean

To the graceful tree tops of the forest, 

Over the hills 

And through my soul,

To the house of darkness I go. 

The Bird's Ferris Wheel

The black raven 

Collides with

The wild dove,

Soaring through the sky 

They seem to multiply, 

Feathers floating

Through the air 

Up so high,

They multiply. 

And I see the lights

Of a ferris wheel in the distance,

Where the birds have their fun,

Spinning and relaxing 

Feathers flying

Off their bodies,

Trying to multiply 

Into offspring,

So the magical wheel in the sky

Can keep turning and luring

Creatures into the sky. 

Name This Something

Faces of ammunition 

Stare into the future,

Tormenting little 

Children 

Everywhere they go,

Fire Fire Fire 

Crack,

Blow up thy face,

Into the eyes of the

Children. 

My Savior

Depression is what saves my life. It serves as my escape from the reality I must bear and encompasses me in a dark cloud, it’s walls thick enough to protect me from the violence this real world projects. When I am in my depression mode, I feel as if  I am rotting away, sharp pains resonate through my heart, my mind is in a place where there is no light and my soul is heavy.  This feeling is a cross, draped over my shoulders, weighing me down every moment depression takes over me, making me feel protected. I remain in my own world filled with misery and rage, black eyeliner and burnt skin. I have learned to welcome the sadness in my life, because when it comes, all nagging, all disappointments, all concerns, all worries are left behind. The remaining concern is mainly death and a rotting body, which serves to be incredibly fascinating, compared to the latter.