My Poems
(click black words that have the poem title, and click again to close the poem)
Vanish
a perfect day would be dissapearing from earth � evaporating, escaping, from the hell's suffocating hearth � i am sinking i am falling into a cynical doom � go away and vanish is just what i presume
Broken Mirror
i hate to look at mirrors
its a nightmare to see my reflection
there is no beauty
there is no me
and if i see my silohuette
in the water i turn away
in morbid disgust
its so hard
its such a struggle
to keep myself alive everyday
most of the mornings that
i wake up to
i wish it werent the same
i hoped that it would be different
that it would somehow change
its so hard
its such a struggle
for me not to hate myself
if by chance i see a glance
in a mirror that caught my reflection
here is what i would mutely say
"nothing, stupid, fat, ugly
worthless, no one"
i know i'll break the mirror
its so hard
its such a struggle
for me not to break the mirror
Insights on Love
love is a four letter word. two vowels. two consanents. its even. you can divide it by two and get two in return. but is love really all that dapper? it`s mixed and jumbled..and your emotions let go and fly like the dolphins in the ocean. when you experience love it`s like ecstasy, you keep wanting more, and until you get that high again, you`ll keep striving to get it. is that how love really is? do you strive to want something that was there before, but now it is lost and gone forever? is it that hard to love someone? is it an emotion, a hormone, what is love? trying to solve another mystery of the heart is as difficult as sherlock holmes left completely ignorant without any clues. i continue to wonder as my mind grazes off to our daily life. but in the back of my head, during a class in school, i really wonder...
Dead Inside
i had gotten home from this so called trip. was full of nothing but deceit and lies. and i got tired of it. and wanted to die. so i ruined my room. and threw things. and cut. and i bled. the deep red marks in my wrist told me that somehow everything would be alright. that i would get up. wash them with soap and drench them with warm water. then smile through the tears. then dry them with a towel and aid to the cuts. i was sick of forcing to think that way. and i was sick of the world, and the people in it. so i took out my stash of "pain killers". i reached for the nearest bottle, my vision blurred with tears. aleve read the words scribed in yellow. unscrewed the cap and spilled out a handful. i cleared my bed. lay on it. then lined up every single pill, in a neat orderly line across my bed. i scribbled some note on an index card and signed it. i then began moving down the line, swallowing each pill. as i finished i lay there drifting off to a sleep. and i awoke just as morning before. dead inside but yet still alive.
rewind