callitwhatyouwill

shes scaring herself

her misery hates

its current company

"let me be me"

let her die

let her tears resign

she plans her escape

being held captive in this body

she wants to be set free

free of her mind

ticking

clicking

biting her

its fighting her

its hurting her

its flirting with her

she looks fine

but feels dead

she suffers in her silence

relying solely on her pen's violence

her pen's tendencies

she speaks through it

but knows better

every word

poem

every line she designs

they're her suicide letters.

thisisnotmylastnote

dubbed
"theeasywayout"
but please dont criticize my chosen route
its far from easy to do
it takes a certain strength
in all my weakness
to plan this undesirable trip
it takes multiple tries
too much practice
because practice makes
perfect
sparing none
my death is perfection
calculated
dated
point taken, Life
i cant do this.

Greetings,
Where have you been?
I cant say ive missed you
You tend to reappear
Just when you were being forgotten.
Only one out of threehundredandsixtyfive times
Do I claim,
“that’s not mine”
And you’re not.
For you are simply me.
I wonder how he feels about you
Because he “loves” me
But you are me
I wonder…
Come with me.
Keep my anger company
Keep my eyes fiery
Keep my thumbs green
Pleasedontleaveme
Alone.
Youmightbeallihave
Left.
You are me.
He has declared love has conquered him
But I know ive done it again.
He has conquered false feelings.
A wise fool.
For he believes in only his strength.
But I am a fucking tank.
For that
Who should I thank?
You. Me. Us.
My weakness deceives
Thieves of hearts.
I fight smart
He doesn’t know,
He doesnt love.
Theres no warmth here.
I share fake secrets of despair
But promise me 3 times that you will keep them

False is all that I am.

ihatesurprises

Would anyone be surprised
If I died
Infront of very suspecting eyes
Do I think they would cry
Yes.
No.
Some.
Maybe.
But would they be surprised
No.
Because im already dead inside
I started mouthing unwritten poetry
I was thinking about how beautiful you are when ur mad at me

What.
Is.
That.

Its distracting
My acting

teamwork

apparently
i play for maybe two teams

my team
that consists of me
and this other stupidfuckingteamineveraskedtobeapartof

the "lesbian" team

im not gay. im not a dyke. im not a lezzzzzzbian. and im absolutely not straight.

im myself.
im me.
how many times have those two words been placed together to form some sort of strong meaningful statement.
the desire to be different has become the same.
unique is now a category all in itself. and theres TONS of ppl in it.

so.
reader.
when i say this.
i mean this.
i am me.
i am on my own team.
im my own coach
umpplayerinfieldoutfieldpitchercatcher
uptobat
andondeck

notice i havent said "labels"
until just now.
because when i say i hate labels. i mean i HATE labels.
-end of label rant

so 23 years and counting... ive played for the same team.
never changes, but slightly alters.

ive introduced new players, benched them almost immediately.
because i am the star of the game.
thislifeisnothingbutagame
its up to "us" as a "society" (society = another "unique" group of ppl)
to decide whether this game is going to be fun or not.

ok so
playing on this team by myself.
refusing to represent any other individual
only because all i know is myself and if i were to try to partner up indefinitely with some one else.... id try very hard, daily, hourly to make them see through my eyes.
when do you realize that not everything is entirely possible.
for example: two ppl can look at the exact same thing, and yet see two completely different things.

things being the key word here

because whatever we are both staring at.. is just a thing.
thingsthingsthings.

so who decides what this thing is?
whofuckingcares

right?!

so i dont play for anyone else's team. i represent nobody but myself.
its not giving up. its called peace.

innerpeace.

x