[x]

Does that make me Different?I wear make up. Does that make me fake?
I cry. Does that make me emo?
I have male friends. Does that make me slutty?
I smile a lot. Does that make me weird?
I laugh loud. Does that make me preppy?
I have anxiety. Does that make me a freak?
I have Bipolar Disorder. Does that make me abnormal?
I respect people. I change for me, and only me. I have a past, but I know I have a future.
Does that make me different?
Maybe.
But at least it makes me
Me.

FrostbiteNumbness
I can’t feel my toes and at first I think
It’s just my toes.
I can cover them up.
I can warm them.

It spreads, like fire,
Like ice.
I glance away for a second, it seems, and my feet are cold
Pat –pat
That’s funny, I didn’t feel that
Maybe I’ll cover them up too
I’ll warm them up.

I’ll take a nap
Maybe a short rest will make it all better, warm them
Up…
What’s that? How long has it been?
My legs… are you still mine..
Why has my breath left me, short?
Has everything but deserted me?

What about you, are you still here?
Are you still with me?
Hello?
And before I can say goodbye, I think my thoughts are leaving me too –

RelapseIt’s like counting
Saturn’s rings,
hash marks
along your limbs -
remembering a time
when

‘just one more’

made you feel better.

- & you’re sitting there
wondering why
Draco, stuck in limbo
always looks like he’s

falling.

Sleeping Beautyshe’s in love with a character who
never existed but in the labyrinth of her head:
a patchwork composition of beautiful, lengthy words
she’d heard in her catatonic state; coma living
day in and day out, reliant on the salvation
of a man made of foreign wishing
and imperfection and necessity – an ignorance
of the less than ideal perception of self she’d
come to fear, absention stained romantic to the point
where daydreams were a standard for survival

(real living is for the purposeful of heart,
he loves her in her sleep)

UneditedWe cry.
We scream.
We fight for our dream.

We scream.
We cry.
We're just waiting to die.

The same emotions
with a different drive.
Sometimes dead, sometimes alive.

The same in one way,
different in another
brother and sister, sister and brother.

So close in feeling,
so different in the end.
Falling apart, or finally on the mend?

Which am I?
Will I ever know?
Fighting to stay or ready to go?

Maybe I'm both,
in some impossible way.
Emotions oddly mixed everyday.

Wouldn't surprise.
I'm such a freak.
Excuse me, I laugh, I should call it "unique"

Happily AloneHonesty,
She does not have,
Personalities,
She has many of them.

A million shields,
a million personalities,
She's always changing,
to fit every person around her.

If one were to ask why,
she would answer with,
I will never reveal my weaknesses,
because she's evil.

She hates everyone,
stupider than her is barely tolerable,
smarter than her is too scary,
She hates it all.

She leaves the world behind,
To one she has dreamt of,
No color,
nobody else.

Then,
she will smile,
why,
because she is truly happy alone.

She is not evil,
She does not hate you,
She is not dishonest,
She simply wants to be alone.

We are the King and Queen of Broken DreamsStanding still in a mine field, staring at all we have left.
We were so young, we didn’t stop to think.
Now we’re in a car crash, teetering on the brink.
If you were to leave me now, I don’t know what I’d do.

It was a whirl wind romance,
A light when all was black, a spark of something when all was bleak.
You swept me off my feet and made me feel brand new.
I thought we could live forever and I’m certain you did to.

We built a house without foundations
And now we’re falling down,
Everything’s crumbling around us, time slipping through out fingertips.
People used to walk past us but they were to drunk to see,
That our lives are coming apart around us, there is no light as far as we can see.

There was no fire to start with,
Just two broken things, the world had left behind.
The casualties of other people’s dreams of power, money and control,
Spat out onto the curb to rot away and die.
We never stood a chance or so

wallflower clippingsthere's scar tissue in her throat,
swollen around the words she never said;
dark rings around her eyes
like planets unremembered, and
a staleness to her touch,
the crystalline Dead Sea.

she's living like a story
that's already been told
"if no one loved you
would you mean anything at all?"

in that moment,
we forget to exist.

lifelinesI fear the sound of sparrows
and the density of leaves
against dew-muffled blades
of grass,

and I'm drowning
in the sky.

My skin has learned how
to peel itself off
without causing a commotion
in my marrows or
even show the slightest hint
of pain,
and my heart has learned how
to hush the stars in their wake
and keep it all a secret.

There's a sea in my mouth
and I can't swim.

There are lifelines
cast like these and it will
all end with the same tragedy.

WorthlessWorthless,
the name that cuts like a knife,
Me,
it's all that you see inside,
My heart,
is breaking with every breath I take
The lies,
the only thing I can't seem to face.

Falling off the EdgeDo you know what it feels like?
To nearly fall off the edge,
but not quite...
just so that you're dangling;
clinging for your worthless life
lest it fall into the sea of loneliness.
Your callused, pink fingers turning
to a shade of purplish-red of pain
as it does it best to hold on.

Splash.

In the sea of loneliness,
everything is crisp, translucent.
There is nothing around you,
you are alone...
unlike other people,
you have no one
clamouring to save you;
you have no one
diving in to get you out.

There is no point
screaming for help,
you will only waste
the little time and air you have left.
You only have the darkness
of the sea envelop

of seafoam thronesFrom Atlas’ hands she wept to me,
atop Africas and South Atlantics;

this is one situation unaffected by
ember eyes and windy lashes
(it has no anatomy).

You are sparrows stranded
in tiny crevices and cliffside love,
though you rebuke flight
in the fear of chipping feathers.

So what do you do?

You reach for my soul,
coveting flight with shaking
dainty arms…

and perhaps I’ll let you:
With flytrap lips and
glass shaped hips…
you are unfit for anything but
sight.

(But beauty isn’t everything)

Honesty Written

from the

heart.

No eraser.

Her SideTomorrow she'll be gone,
but what can you say?
Nothing can help her.
The pain won't go away.

But she would've stopped,
you could've said no.
That's what she wanted,
someone to say don't go.

That someone wanted her,
or at least would try.
That someone would grieve
if she were to die.

But you just stared,
nodding your head,
and she realized the truth
with a feeling of dread.

No one wanted her.
No one cared.
Not even you,
with the the love you shared.

So she said good-bye,
and you watched her leave.
She may have had the rope,
but now you can't breathe.

PerfectEver had the feeling where you can't stop looking at a picture?
Your gorgeous face makes me smile
Go weak at the knees
Makes me giggle like a little girl

Those morning texts
All day conversations
Random silly things like that
Make me smile

I see the led light flash the colours I've set for when I get a message from you
My heart flutters
My cheeks flush
I go deaf to the world when I'm reading a message from you

If your down
I'm always there for you
I know you don't want to worry me
I know you want me to smile
But I'm always here for you
No matter how you feel
I'd prefer to help
Than for you to be down

Your gorgeous eyes
Are mesmerising
You

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KiberaKibera

Amri sniffled and scuffed his bare foot against the dusty ground. Presently, he was sitting on a wooden crate that someone else had found to be too broken for use and abandoned. He figured he could use it in his house. The place he called home was a small dilapidated poorly built hut. The boy returned his attention to what he was doing; Amri didn't dig too far with his bare feet. You never knew what you might find or step on in the shanty town of Kibera in the center of the city Nairobi in Kenya.

The ramshackle buildings roughly in the middle of Nairobi spread across a mile and a half of congested, packed, dirty land that a million p

A Casting of LightIt was dusk. The street light flickered across the lot, humming with electricity, and spreading its pale yellow light. There wasn't a single car in the area, and wouldn't be for awhile. The clouds covered the sun, which hung above the trees like an oil painting. The colors of the sky bled and merged into one another to create the imagery of runny warm colors slopped lazily upon a tired artist's canvas.

The colors slowly drained from the sky, going from yellow to blood orange. It was peaceful, serene as the light low hanging clouds drifted past the stars that glimmered through the dying beams of sunlight. In the last fingertips of light

Never Talking to Him AgainAfter some consideration, I decided to add up all the little one shots to get this. Enjoy.

Him

The wind shifted in the night, blowing the dead leaves around my feet, and making some more fall to the cold, dirty ground. This is the pathway I walk on to escape. This is where I run away from it all, my thoughts, especially about him.

What if he found me this way, a mess, walking alone in the forest at night. He would probably raise an eyebrow. Then I would turn before he could see my blood rising to my cheeks.

A cloud drifted by; she had been watching it, trying to distract herself. As usual it wasn't working. Why couldn't something work in

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Waiting, Watching

by =Allysmurfy, Nov 30, 2010, 5:19:21 PM
Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

At the wooden window I sat

It was old and small

There I watched

The drifting stars, the floating sun;

The leavens turned. I watched-

They fell as I gazed

The not-so-lucky would die

Wither and brown;

Green would replace, the fortunate...

Years I sat by that window

Watching

Waiting, Watchingby =Allysmurfy

Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

This is my entry to the 2010 Poetry Contest that WordsNeverFail is hosting.

This is the link to the article.
[link]

Do vote for someone, if not me.

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*mininessie Jul 10, 2011 Hobbyist Writer

that was good i was confused about the drifting stars and floating sun because those two things can't be in the sky at the same time but the end made those things make since that it was not a one time thing is was over the years and combining all the moments into one

~myprrrecious Dec 9, 2010

THAT IS LOVELY

=Allysmurfy Dec 12, 2010 Writer

THAT, made me blush

~myprrrecious Dec 13, 2010

Why what exactly?
Tell me...
You seem to have a VERY philosophical aspect of everything you observe.
It is as though you see them in a plural dimension at once perhaps, maybe at a glance or through time,
and then you describe it with promising rhyme.
Tell me
do you see things and observe them?
Do you look into detail of many things?
Do you observe everything in your presence including yours? As though it is a sacramental and undisturbed moment of time?
do tell me
I am very interested.

=Allysmurfy Dec 13, 2010 Writer

Yes, I over think very much.

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Waiting, Watching

Waiting, Watchingby =Allysmurfy

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