[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 –

You'll Never Understand...You'll never understand...
But I'm glad you don't.
Because that would mean
You'd have to go through my pain.
And I'd never wish that
For you.

Dear fucked society,Dear fucked up society,
Why do you take our rights?
Our human rights?
To who we love?
To who we are.. To our image?
Tell me.

You force images down our throat;
Images of airbrushed, false looking
people. You want people to look
more skinny and cause anorexia,
More along the hidden line that
you dig under the ground like
a dead forgotten body yet always there

You show us that its not right to be gay,
lesbian, bi-sexual or transgendered..
And then wonder why the suicide rate is
so fucking high. You cause the nightmares
and terrors of our family not accepting us
our

Telling Childhood Goodnight.They were the fearless whispers through the starless night.
They were the pounding feet through the cobbled streets,
Screaming out for everything.
They were the fleeting memories of a time long gone by,
Blown away in the wind to a far away sky,
Where the air is cold and the stars never shine.

Memories leave their traces behind,
The scars on my legs from a day long gone by.
I was climbing a rock,
That would forever leave me with a flaw.

They were the youthful cries, screaming out.
They were the glowing eyes, on a fearless march,
Racing down the cobbled streets, blazing out for all to see.
The beacon of light that is now dying out,
I never wanted it to go away.
Everything is changing at a speed I can’t match,
I am drifting further every day.

It makes me want to cry that the best and worst days of my life,
Are being pushed away with every day that passes by.
I want to hold on
But each day I lose more ground.
Soon they will be gone without even a sound.

Th

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)

I don't fight fair...Cut, bruised, scraped, forgotten. These things I have all been at least once in my life. But it
hasn't made me stronger, just more determined in my fight to live another day.
I know the ways of my attackers, studied their movements, learned their tricks and gleamed
their true motives. I have seen their weaknesses, their faults, theirs flaws and I have kept
them close to me, ready for use when the next time we meet.
They are cautious of me, they have weary from my adaptive ways, knowing that I can fall only
so many times. They are scared for I have the key to their defeat; not by sane ways, but by
the ways they fear to tread.
One look, one stare, one gesture and they will run in fear for the truth is upon them: "I won't
live restrained anymore."
"I have seen your errors an played on them like strings on a violin. Moved you to place were I
make the rules. Put you on display for all to see what you have done, and what will be done."

You ha

Silent and GoneAlong the blue streams of those who were simplistically glassed, I drag my wooden, empty coffin; it contains only my past.

For the many decades I've lengthened have expanded pain's time; across shallow mountains and beatings I prepare my final climb.

Through harsh mists and soft grasses the journey trembles on; days on end without my voices; alas, I realize they are gone.

Near all abandonment's shelter I rest without ease; my halved demon appears before me; she speaks hellishly in the breeze.

Forgiveness and hallucination she crisply burns in my eyes; I must awaken and continue, 'tis my time to remain wise.

To a judging stream near the g

the carbon footprint of an arsonistyour crystal promise
rings drip off your glacial
fingers into global

nothings. the geodesic
dome you used to live in
is a hell you keep

clean-shaven and concentric,
spiraling away from you,
wrapping your unborn

children up in paper goblets.
for minimum wage, any geryon
would cling to the terza rima

inkblots on your
collarbones, his spongy molars
diving into your right

angles, his familiar laughs
killing your skin with
shivering cuddles and you

shudder, being self-diagnosed
at center of the universe,
your hair a nest of radio

waves, the one cosmic
principle drumming on the ancient
heart of mystery.

but amateur porn always
made you cry

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.

The WaitingBones hang from trees
Hollow windchimes rattling
In the sullen breeze

Dark clouds make noonday dusk
Rusted buttons on threadbare coats
Sorrow drips like rain

(From the fingertips of this dead-rose day)

Hoofprints kill the grass
Where the dark horse steps
The rider unsmiling

The tired and ill amble about
Cattle awaiting the shoulder tap
To sleep, but not to dream

(To become whatever the second birth dictates)

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.

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)

A Charmed LifeDoll-faced men and sinkholes, ancient tombstones
Leaves piled ankle-deep, falling down
Old wells, old graves, old friends lost
Pirate adventures in Neverland
Don't go into that barn

Ponchoboy and Rangergirl rise from the ashes
From the cold river, from afar
Remember before they were born, how they
Held hands and jumped into the world
Don't go into that school

Ladybugs, pennies, notes from the dead sun eclipse
Scrape the inside of your skull for clues
All the old dreams are still there, petrified
You are a rock of ages gibbering
Don't go into that factory

Ashes on the SandWe put you in
a crystal box
small enough for me
to hold in my
hands
(and that thought gives me
chill bumps)
The tide was high
where we took you
and I remember thinking
how pointless it was
(you were just going to wash
up on the shore)
Everyone was quiet
and some people cried
and as you were tossed
out to sea like so
many grains of sand
I thought how much
I missed you
(Now I think how much
I hate you
for leaving)

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The Manic ManThe Manic Man

The Manic Man knows when he's been betrayed
The Manic Man has witness his soul being slayed
The Manic Man doesn't remember the games he played

But he remember the pain he felt
From your stinging slaps and bruising welts
The Manic Man knows when he's about to melt

He remembers a very cheerful song
He wonders why it's been this way for so long
But The Manic Man is always wrong

But the Manic Man believes rejection is his mother
And that hatred happens to be his brother
And there no room left for the others.

So, what about friends?
The Manic Man has none in the end.
So would you like to try again?

So, what about love?
The Mani

I Don't KnowI Don't Know

My depression loves me more than any girl
And you can ask the whole world
And when your done I'll be drunk enough to hurl

Because I'm sure if I drown in beer
Someone will cheer
Someone will be in tears

But I have a great fear
About leaving here
About a devil that might appear

But I just don't care
And if I could only dare
I could probably make life fair

But I lack the motivation
And you can blame it on my hesitation
But please don't ask for an explanation

Because I'm to depressed to tell you.
And If I gave you an answer would it be true?
I don't really have a clue.

But did you know?
I'm here to feed your ego
I'm here to ma

The Poem from my NotebookThe Poem from my Notebook

Back When you was two years old
I bet you was never told
About how you're more precious than gold

You look good in your black hat
I bet you don't want someone this fat
But I don't like to think about that

Because I'm melting and not because of this weather
It's because of your white sweater
And I swear I can see your white angel feathers

And it reminded me when I was young
And I thought life would be fun
But has a loser ever won?

And I don't wanna talk about this anymore
Because I felt like this before
My depression is coming back for another score

But I'll just stare at you and you're beautiful background
As m

No titleNo title

Wipe the mess on your hand
Because you're a man
Thats made of sand

Yet you try to act cool
And play by the rules
But love is for fools

So you'll never win
It was over before it begins
Yet, you still grin

So what makes you smile
Why don't you explain it for awhile
And write another poem for your files

Are you trying to hide what's inside
But you're ugly in as you're on the outside
So what is it that your trying to hide?

Oh you just want someone to say I love you
But who would want to?
But then again I'm pretty sure it was something you already knew

But isn't that something everyone wants to gain?
But doesn't everyone feel pain?

My Heart is 6647.9 miles away.My Heart is 6647.9 miles away.

I feel like I'm melting away
And I don't know what to say
Because my heart is 6647.9 miles away

My heart and I tend to act like a Christian
But my heart is on a sacred mission
And I'm left wishin.

I don't care if you believe in god or not
But if you don't
My heart will say your afterlife might get hot

But my heart is living her dream
Even if I'm breaking apart at my seams
I feel like a bowl of melted ice cream

I'm trying to find the right words
My heart is reading the right verse
And I wonder if I have ever felt something this worse

My heart is teaching me about fate
And I wonder about a mate
Do I create m

PoeticPoetic

Justice exist, thats what I've been told
But I'm a victim of a crime untold
And the wicked are quite bold

It started when I was in grade two
How about you?
I bet you never had a clue.

They called me gay
And hey
I just ran off to play

I acted like I didn't care
I acted like life was fair
I acted like love was there.

I met my first love in grade ten
I sometimes think about then
How much time it took to mend

Our love was separated by miles
And yet I still smiled
But it only lasted for awhile

But I acted like a child
I acted wild
And the pain was more than mild

She was apathetic
she called me pathetic
I believed her. Isn't that rat

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Do you love me, now?

by *Alexisisinneed, Nov 8, 2011, 9:20:05 PM
Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

Do you love me now?

If I was to die?
Would you even cry
You better not lie

Because I can read your mind
And I know in this ryhme
That you'll be mine

You like to play with girls
I watch you in your world
Most people would hurl

But I like it
Because there pieces of shit
I love you every last bit

What? You don't remember me?
How can that be?
I'll make you see

You fucked me last year
My first time, didn't you here?
I only want you near

You want me gone?
Don't get me wrong
But you'll like my song

You can use
You can abuse
But you can never refuse.

We'll play together
Forever
Don't you ever say never

Because I love you
And you know it's true
Far more then any of these bitches do

Rejoice
Because I'm going to give you a choice
Baby don't speak to me in that tone of voice.

Because I'm your star
I know lets go to a bar
Lets use my car

And then we can fuck
I'm yours to pluck
Or Perhaps I should start to suck

You should put down that phone
The cops won't be at home
Me and you all alone

You shouldn't yell
Somethings wrong, I can tell
But I'll make it all well

I should be your wife
I should be in your life
What knife? I don't have a knife

Oh wow, Oh wow!
So much blood...but how?
Hey baby, do you love me now?

Do you love me, now?by *Alexisisinneed

Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

Crazy poem is crazy. Stalkers are dangerous.

Inspired by this
[link]

~Forever-cajun Mar 14, 2012 Hobbyist Traditional Artist

this poem reeks of yandere goodness...I LOVE IT!

*Alexisisinneed Mar 19, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

I'm glad you liked it. I totally forgot about it.

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