My art, my love for poetry, my life was fought for
Each poem I write is a battle, a fight for success and creativity. Let me be honest I usually like to write when I’m depressed because I like the emotion that ends up on the page.
FATAL ATTRACTION
Am I falling or am I flying?
Trying to save your soul —
for the devil will take his toll.
Putting yours before mine —
you said you were mine.
MY ROOMMATE
I have a roommate — I spend every daywith him. He eats all my food, wears all myclothes and never picks up after himself.
He doesn't like me writing or drawing. He left just now, but he'll be back soon— so lets make this quick, shall…
THE HEALING PROCESS
When I hit the floor — I hit hard.
It's painful — it never feels good.
I usually don't get up for awhile —
not until I realize no one is
there to pick me up.
I barely cry, its abnormal for me to cry. People count on be to be there for them all the time and they look up to me to be a strong and not suicidal hero.. I’m not
My mom told me I should be a therapist; I told her I already was one for like three people.. Four people now I guess…
The right side of the moonI look up at it every night it seems to never notice me either it doesn’t wanna talk or I need new glasses. I feel like running today but I’m not going to, I’m too embarrassed of my body to actually do it, isn’t strange how we can be embarrassed of our own…
PROBLEMS
Push and pull — tug of war with my limbs.
Russian Roulette with my heart —
Scratch, scratch, blood drying tears —
pouring pain increasing.
I met you last year, on a Facebook group page ; you fell in love with me and I the same; we couldn’t help itYou fell in love with my words my looks( still don’t get that part) the way I helped you through the spout of depression a couple nights. I fell in love with your smile your lips…
Lost at the intersection
My favorite feeling is pain. Not happiness because it’s been so long , I forgot your kiss. Not sadness because I’m pass that point. I’m strolling along a never road. The wind stings my Sun burnt skin, my cracked lips and, bloodshot eyes. I can’t cry because I ripped out my tear ducts. It feels like…