Tag: Poetry

Alive

People amuse me in the sense that they are oblivious to life itself And that they choose to be ignorant so that they may not suffer Don’t they know that suffering is the only damn thing in this mad world That makes us feel…

Foreign

Don’t ask me if I am happy I’ve never known what that is It’s a foreign term My mind can’t comprehend I am made of too much darkness to ever feel that And I have accepted it This is who I am And I…

Ana

As my bones began to show My hunger faded Until I did not recognize my own reflection Ana praised me and she encouraged me To make the number on the scale lower She was in control Where was I? The happy girl I once…

Closed Door

If they walked out the door Do not open it When they come back knocking

Bleed Ink

If you want to write poetry You have to learn to bleed in ink

4 Am Thoughts

You act like me feeling too much is a bad thing

Little Girl

Some days I want to heal Some days I don’t The trauma and abuse I faced while young is a part of me It makes me who I am Who will I be if I move past it? The thought of it terrifies me…

Black Thing

I wake up with this black thing inside me I go throughout the day with this black thing inside me And I go to sleep with this black thing inside me

Mornings with Plath

I do not like small talk Nor people who have no depth I like to be alone to explore my mind I write poetry, letters and stories On a typewriter I read Jane Austen’s novels I listen to Sylvia Plath’s poetry On a record…

Past

I could not do it anymore Going back to you each time you felt like reaching out What I need you can not give me I must give it to myself And leave you in the past where you belong