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Words can make you feel on top of the world Or throw you into the depths of the ocean Make your voice loud enough to be heard Or heal your wounds life a magic potion.
You can't fix me if I'm not broken. Everything has already been taken. You need to let me be I can't stay here so unhappy. I need to be left alone. Where I can be set free to roam.
I like to write poems about the beach, Wonder what it would be like to live somewhere else, Or be famous, and be followed by all the flashing cameras.
When I think of you, I know exactly what I do, I take the image from my mind, And paste it on the one I find, Trouble is, so often I'm wrong, For we, together don't belong, How can I make it...
Who am I.
If I should die Think only this of me: 'Thank fuck he's dead. ' That should be the elegy. Don't glorify the life I led.
Hey. My name is Katie, Kate for short, or even Katherine, if you feel you want to call me that. I started writing these blog type entry's so that I can view my life, as if I was another person.
Wow, I talk to you for 10 minutes, My train chat is reaching it's limits, You say your name is Georgio?.
I am me. And that is something I will continue to be. Brown long hair and green eyes. Not too tall I am small in size. I like to skate. And stay up late. I like to workout.
It's one in the morning And I'm wide awake The rebel in me Is starting to shake I'm dreaming a dream That one day I'll be top With a one a.m post Perhaps that's where I'll hop.
The blade was inches away from my source of life If it went right in what would've happened- The thought still tears at my mind But self resentment reaffirms all of my earlier crimes And the effects...
Night air. Fresh, summery night air. The distinctive smell is loathed, loved missed and forgotten. City lights descending from the mountain and darkness just within them. Within me.
Ninety nine posts have been and gone, and this is my one hundredth one, I've written rhymes and some prose too. Some posts were silly, some posts were true.
It's funny how little you know about the people around you, you think you know so much about your best friend or your mother or your brother but odds are you know next to nothing.
Know thyself. An ancient command, but surpassingly hard to do. Yet, unless I know myself, how can I describe me to you. What are we, really, all of us. Memories and experience.
Let's just take things slow now. You don't need to rush your mind. Let's take it easy, please. We know both aren't your type. You need to calm yourself down, Before you ruin your whole life.
I think I know how my Soulmate would be. I think it would have to be A reflection of me. Not like an exact image Or in a self obsessed way. More spiritually connected With the words we'd say.
S o many different ways E veryone's affected L ife lived in a cage F riends feeling neglected I gnorant mostly S hit, nah completely H onesly don't mean to but This selfishness defeats me...
I wanna stay inside all day, I want the world to go away, Born with a void, heart to destroy With love, if I could sell my sorry soul, then I could have it all, I just want it to be perfect to...
This poem is full of crap, This poem is a bore. Don't bother reading this poem, It will soon seem like a chore.
Dear Allen, When I looked inside of my self, blankness was all I could see. I tried to reveal myself to others and myself but I could not succeed. Then a time came about when I was forced to find me.
Well everyone else is doing it.
My heart's a thing. I can't explain. When it embraces. Joy and pain. My heart is young. It catches fire. But keeps me safe. From harm's desire. My heart is old. But still so strong. Keeps me here.
Some things we keep hidden. Some things we simply don't want anyone to know about. So we do our best to hide it, and maybe we do it so well that we forget about it ourselves.