spoken
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I think I paint because of fear of the abstract.
I think I have fear, and there it is,
Blossoming in my behaivor.
Like a flower peddle swayed by the wind,
I begin my life when many will end.
Teeth came in, screaming came out
As a child finding my voice came with fees
Every chance I got to fight I would shout
My mother made me get down on my knees
I love to stare at beautiful men
their hair flows just right.
looks like their jawline can cut me open in one slice.
a hug is just like paradise
just fell their body next to mine
with those muscles
I was born in the fall of 1998, to a woman I never called mom.
Picked up at four months old, by a couple looking for a daughter.
My formative years were great…except when they weren't.
NOTE: Before I continue, I want to infom my audience that my poem was written after seeing my father for the first time in 9 years...
It felt like we were stepping out of a coming-of-age fantasy
An assault on my senses, the sensation was too much to bear.
We walked into the cracked pavement that was washed under the sun
Little did you know when our world "Leaders" meet to talk, they talk not about how to create peace but strategies for war.
I need to take some time out of my schedule just to acknowledge some people to say sorry
Now taking time out of my day to say sorry got to be major because that mean I got a lot of apologizing to do
Short story and visual illustration of how young ladies like me fight insecurities while being attracted to the opposite sex.
Who am I?
Who am I to look her in the face and say
“I’m fine. No, really it’s okay.”
When really I’m screaming inside.
She used to be so soft spokenNow she puts up a front acting all toughRaged because she feels usedAnd the world owes her something for leading her too be fooled and pulled into the reality of the true ending of a fairy tale
Rising up, a wispy blissembraces a lover's memoryof your unending spoken kissthat bestows on me such misery
Every time I try to speak, someone claims they can't hear me. I hear it often, SPEAK UP!
When these two words are spoken, I tend to talk softer.
Holy waters of the United States,
Wash away the cherry blood on his hands,
My voice calls out like David's precious lamb,
So lost in the valley of death and hate.
I love to dance.
Smooth, languid, ignoring the lines and boundaries.
I can dance my way into your heart with one flick of my finger, my tiny dancers.
And make you despise me with one more.
Hark unto me oh ye man!!!!
For it is not the struggle of one that overcomes all, but rather the struggle of all that overcomes one. We are not definite through human shape and form, rather infinite through UNIFYING energy.
Silence in the open air
Overwhelmed with nothingness
but it's always everything
Too jumbled to organize
Too messed up to put in complete sentences
Am I just dysfunctional?
Empowered by self infliction
I will communicate in ways unknown,
slipping references inside spaces
that you never even knew existed
making sure that you understand that
You. Missed. This.
chance to be with someone so clever
So this guy had a problem.
More specifically,
he had a problem with me
and was asking questions about my mentality,
trying to make me realize
that it's no use being a writer
Feel the tongue tingling words oozing from my overly active brain.
The sensation of bottle popping knowledge residing in your heart.
His words will never hurt you again
The hammer in your chest will pound no more
Why cant I speak? Because no one will listen... But if I don't speak, then they won't hear what I have to say. If I don' t speak, how can they listen?
