I fear That now There is no real me. I wear a mask of personality And pretend I’m happy.
dance in the sun watch it splatter over your face
Notes rolling off of my fingers The right hand sings a soft melody… The richer undertones of the left… Flowing and melting in swirling ma… The quiet inner voice on the right…
Something warm has curled up inside my chest. It is filled with hate, with sadness, with things I cannot express.
We used to have the same lunch, didn’t we? We used to laugh at the same jokes… wouldn’t we? We were woven from the same fabric
If I died And no one knew, I don’t know. And I am scared And everything hurts
As you walk away, Without looking back, I stand here, heart in my hands. I wish you had stayed Or that I’d done something differ…
star-struck because stars are fictional, heavenly things. but
The wind– A finicky rush That has to be somewhere else All the time. The faint echoes of summer
The clouds in the distance Sit, patient Oblivious to my need For rain They promise the rain
My heart Is a glass ball Delicate Awaiting somebody Who will cradle it gently
Whiteboards are erasable. Write down a message Swipe it away with a sleeve Scribble down another message. Swipe it away again.
Wet paper arrows quivering against the bright string of the bow. The arrows
What am I without poetry, Without words, blossoming on the page? I would be but a shell of myself And you would find me
Knowledge is pain, Knowledge is power. The beauty of knowledge Seems so tangible and so beautiful… That mankind must have it.
