We Aren't So Different

I'll write a letter to you in my sleep
Maybe I'll send it some day
I want you to know I care, but
I'm afraid I'll scare you away.

We really aren't so different, you and I,
Our raising, similar
Our curiosity, biting
Our skittishness, familiar

No one understands, do they?
Nor do I , I won't claim I do.
But I do know that feeling
Different as it may be - and what comes next

The things I'd say to you,
if I thought you'd listen,
if I thought you'd care.
Sometimes it helps to hear someone else.

I don't even know, though
if this is about you or more
about me and my own insecurities.
I don't know how to help.

Maybe, someday, I'll write you a letter
And send it--only too late.
You'll say, "why didn't you tell me?"
"...I was scared."

Paranoid

I'm only paranoid because I know there are people worse than me.

posted from Bloggeroid

Silent Screams

The silent screams
are the most painful of all

Nowhere to go
Nothing that can be said

I cannot make a sound
all is turned inward

Scream, my soul does
Silence, my lips say

My body consumed
in unspoken conflict

Limp, desiring not to be seen
Rigid, longing for escape, freedom

Languid eyes, slowly search
seeking some solace within sight

Nothing, there is, that can ease
this long and loathsome day

Personal Demons

Personal demons.
That is all.
No need for concern.
I just need something.
Numb my brain.
Fog my mind.
Keep me from sleeping.
(Until I have no other choice.)

posted from Bloggeroid

Warm & Sunny / Cold & Dark

What is this warm sunny stuff?
I like the weather like my heart and soul.
Cold and dark.

Snowy, perhaps?
Or warped, like my humor.

posted from Bloggeroid

Hide the Importance

This hurts
it severs pieces of my soul
I really need to do something
But that kind of defeats the purpose

Who do I talk to
I build my walls so high
The only female to get past some
is the only female from whom
I run.

I downplay the importance
But can't you see that it really is?

Effect

If you don't know how I'm feeling,
You don't know me very well.

If you have no desire to read what I say,
I tell myself you still care, just not my way.

If you don't know why I listen to what I do,
Then you've never been here before.

If my emotionless state dumbfounds you,
You don't affect me deep enough.

If you question what I say,
You're getting closer to the truth.

If I hear one more time that "it'll all be okay,"
I might show you that it's not.

You push, I pull. You pull, I push.
Nothing will ever be resolved.

At Odds

Why can I not draw cohesive lines
between who I am and what I like?

A combination of many little pieces
of many parts
of life. As a whole,
I do not properly fit anywhere.

Someday,
this combination that you so like in me,
darkness and light,
will rip me asunder.

posted from Bloggeroid

Paranoia

What imagination I have often displays itself in the form of paranoia.

posted from Bloggeroid

Ignorance is Bliss

If ignorance is bliss; you must be akin to wisdom.

my favorite way to learn is the hard way

yeah...

PROBLEM?

WHAT IS MY PROBLEM?
Why do I repeat the same things over
and over and over?

It's really much worse than you think

It's really much worse than you think
The black is a darker shade than you can see

This silence that you force upon me
Is a testament to your unknowing actions

Finding myself shoved into the depths
A hole this deep, only I could have dug

dirty things

we all have our share of dirty things shoved back in dark corners
pouring myself full of liquid drug, loud music, and metal
because i cannot adequately feel anything

some things don't go away with high school

None of our stories are really all that different.
High school drama, betrayal, and back stabbery.
We're all a little warped from it,
but it makes us who we are.

Some, even with lots of trauma
still come out okay.
It's those who look down on themselves
that we should worry about.

What Then

And sometimes I get scared,
of how little I really know you
of how little you really know [about] me

What if we don't last forever
(Not that I am planning for us to)
(But I'm not planning otherwise)

Sometimes I get scared
I really don't have it [all] under control
I am terrified of life

What if I give you too much
What happens if it doesn't work
How would I go on without you

I do get so scared
(Afraid of the world
Afraid of life)

Goth

I miss my inner goth
the darkness so beautiful,
the days I could stare in your eyes,
the nights of wakefulness
until the breath of dawn.

Trip

It hurts me so much.
Why do you do this to yourself
Why do I even care?
It's personal.
It killed my brother
but I don't tell you that.
I don't want to ruin your trip,
because, as you know,
sitting is most important.

I ask people if they've partook.
Typically, no, it's not that common.
But, you? Yes?
You are not supposed to tell me
that you are coming off a trip, now.

I have a strong urge to shatter glass.
I don't know what to do,
how to respond.
Looking at my bottle,
throw it on the floor.
Bad idea.

A Glimpse Inside

Upon the realization of the personalness
and the personality
that I display via my poetry
and prose
I began to question myself
Am I prepared to share myself
[this side of myself]
With someone who knows me on a face to face level
Someone who I feel will take my every word
written (and left dangling between the lines)
and diagnose them to learn me
Not, I feel, to judge me
but to use the power, revealed by the eyes
to gain a glimpse into this soul of mine

The power of knowledge and wisdom
the implications of manipulation
the deepness of soul and thought
the residing of previous and ancient wisdom
the non-learned, but sharpenable awareness
--The look in the eyes.

Can you read my words and thus my thoughts?
Can you see through my attempt to be who I am?
Do you understand what it is I say?
- what it is I aim for?

Can you see
that I can see,
but that I do not see, myself?

Early Christmas Morning

So I just realized it is Christmas
It is also almost 5 AM
No Santa at our place tonight
Waiting up and sure of it
No old man will break in
Employment of shotgun if necessary

There has never been a Santa around here
He has never dropped by
No baking useless cookies
No wasting milk as it sits out warming
No gifts either for a long time

It's okay.
I don't need Santa Claus.
I have cynicism.