2015 I Am
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an icy fine powderthat made you lamentthe days spent twistedwarpedunder the false ideologythat manliness is to beconfided in yourdead father.
I am what you choose to see.
The reflections of your actions,
the words you speak.
I am the light you let in,
or the darkness you allow to consume thee.
I am power and in control,
Little specks of color drabble the city streets with life and brightness, carrying on,
Going about themselves, moving like automatons,
Wondering, laughing, mourning, smothering one another with affection,
Smiling.
Please do not mind,I am one of a kind.I have my ways,I have my days.A young teen,so please do not be mean.Finding my way,hoping to stay.
People strive to be something different
Society wants you to be different
But in their own terms
They want you to have a thin waist,
A big butt,
Perfect boobs,
Flawless skin,
Flat stomach.
I am a writer I am a musician I am an athlete
I am many nouns
But I am more than nouns
I am tall I am compassionate I am hard to read
I am many adjectives
But I am more than adjectives
Sticky, pale fingers
Black hair a mess
Limbs of no descernable length
Tangled around a fence
Mirthful laughter
Reddened cheeks
Sneaking the fruits
Behind the shed
I am guided by god
lost without cause until I found his light
the lord above brings me delight
no obstacle can withstand his plan for me
made in his image is what I plan to be
I am the queen of disorientation.
There were bumble bees building nests in my hair and now I'm made of honey combes;
but sometimes my sweetness can go sour under pressure.
I am unidentified.
A pretty face and name with a unknown destiny.
They ask me to be vocal,
But I AM afraid,
They ask me to be aggressive,
But I believe in inner peace
They ask me to be in power,
I am Strong.
Not physically, but mentally.
I have never met anyone as strong as me.
16 with a fractured back,
my whole life was thrown off track.
little girl playing in rain puddles
herding fussy ducklings under rainy sky
raincoat swish-swish
wellies squeak and slurp
hungry beasts
gold hair, bright eyes
clueless and naive.
As I grow up,
(I never promised Peter Pan)
the imbalance of chemicals
try to right themselves into what
will be,
is me.
So if I seem louder,
so if I find it uncomfortable
I am,
not exactly who I thought i might be
I am
Not exactly what i wish i was
I am
not perfect,, shiny
I am
dented and scraped
dragged through the mud and misshapen
I am someone that has hardships
But doesn't everybody?
What makes what they experience different from mine?
What makes me different?
I am someone that has overcome self-harm
Woke up hungry like I ain't ate in weeks,starving for substance.
1.
Some may think of me as a bum;dirtball bad like a Viking in the mud bowl.A cloud of dust encompassing a being.
It is not in my mouth
As I expel warm life into the cold brass
And feel it move through the neck to the bell
It is not in my fingers
As they move over the keys
In rapid succession
