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SheLikes2Write

Breathe. Live. Eat. Sleep. Write.

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Fifteen

Fear

Fear
What’s my fear?
Well dear,
I have many………..
Who doesn’t?
Anyway let’s cut to the chase………..
I have a fear of looking rejection in the face.
Her eyes cut through my soul like a knife and I’m not tender meat so that scares me……………………..A LOT.
She follows me everywhere I go.
I don’t want my true colors to show; not the colors on the outside but the ones on the inside, the ones that are internalized.
The ones I try my hardest to hide,
The one that cut deep,
The ones that creep on me when people catch a glimpse of what I perceive as vulnerability………………….
Excess.
Excess emotions and truth.
Why am I such a follower?
Why am I such a wannabe?
Shouldn’t I want to be myself?
No………I want to be someone else.
Vulnerability is a fear that continues to chase me down.
She’s full of so much emotional fat and I can’t deal with that but you need healthy fat to function.
Function.

The Culprit is ME

Why do I feel so abused, battered and confused?
She wins, I lose.
It is the path I continuously choose………..
Day in and day out
About……..
What?
Why?
Why does she hate me?
I need love too.
“You’re nothing, look at you.”
I can’t tell you how many times she’s told me this…………
Misery loves company.
She loves my company and she wants me to bask in her pity.
What did I do?
I want to talk to her but I don’t know how,
Wow.
Why?
Because the culprit is ME.
Admitting this aloud is not easy but it is necessary.
Time for a change.
I need to rearrange somethings in my mind.
Change will save this ol’ heart of mine……..

Teen Summer Boredom

There’s nothing more I hate than being bored.
All my ideas have gone out the window, they are no more.
Maybe I’m just boring.
Within a minute I’ll probably have you snoring because I’m lackluster………
Nothing short of a B-movie blockbuster
The shine is not mine.
I’m usually the one saying “Hi!” through text
When will someone check on me?
What did I do to not have a social life?
Am I too ugly?
Too pretty?
Too smart?
Do I have too much heart?
Is this art too abstract?
Should I learn how to subtract instead of add?
The LAWD knows I’m too hard on myself
There I go again trying to be like someone else……..
I can’t believe I’m singin’ this same tune again
Just lookin’ for those best friends…….
Where are they?
Are they imaginary?
Are they right in front of me?
Maybe I take things too personally……….
What does this have to do with being bored?
I guess I’m just really ungrateful.
At least I’m secure………..
At least I have a future………..
Parents who care for and LOVE me.
Maybe I’m just sad he’s gone.
He was one of my best friends…….
I left a relationship with mixed feelings,
I’m in need of healing.
I feel too boring,
I feel less,
I feel stressed.
Maybe there are somethings I just don’t understand,
Please father take my hand.
I need to heed to your every command.
Everything happens for a reason, right?
I have a lot of hope because I know my future will be bright.
I need to stop being so negative……………….

Questionable Friday Guilt

I’m trying to so hard to hide the fact that I feel like filth inside.
Yes, I’m dealing with guilt.
There’s no way around it……………
I’m trying to hide a fragile and crumbling interior that masquerades itself as a hard and tough exterior.
I hate the feeling of inferiority,
So why am I basking in it??????
This is happening on a Friday.
Yes, a Friday.
A Friday out of all days.
Friday is supposed to be my favorite day.
How do you think it feels being looked at as a crazy person????
No one wants to feel like their stripped of their dignity and worth………
Sometimes you wanna be a transcendentalist and get outta this space
I need space………………
The human race is riddled with enough drama for you and your mama…………..
Look who’s talking……………
Why do I think I’m the highest and mightiest thing walking???
“I can’t stand drama queens…….” Look in the mirror sweetie…………….
I need some space……….
The food I ate has no taste
No proper taste at all……….
It was covered in hot guilt sauce.
I act like I feel sorry for no one,
It’s that fun.
THE END
I’m done.

Rage

Rage
Is something I can’t control
When someone tries to tell me to be something else
Rage
Is the stage where sin is fully engaged
Rage
Is when I feel no one hears me or understands what I feel so my layers start to swiftly peel
Rage,
Stage,
Feel,
Steal…….
It steals all my joy and
My day so I waste away.
Dark
Dark like abandoned hole
I unfold,
I peel………..
Tears stream down my face as I turn the page in my own mystery that will soon become history
If I don’t change,
Rearrange the mess in my head,
The images I’m fed…………
Rage,
Stage,
Feel,
Real,
Real,
Steal.
Dark,
Tears,
History,
Mystery,
Anxiety,
Stress,
Relax,
THE END.
I’ll cook now but I’ll do my laundry first.
Forgive me father.

Journal

Just got a journal and I don’t know know what to write
Summer’s here and I turned off my thinking light, cap or whatever………….
It’s really late at night and I’m not going to fight…………to write words from the depths of my heart because I don’t know where to start and that’s the hardest part.
I don’t really follow through on something I think I can’t do because I think it will turn out like poo.
Just got a journal today……….
I don’t want it to fade away in the back of my mind where its hard to find.
I don’t know where to start……..
I’m having a brain fart.
Failure is something I can’t do,
How am I going to get through this………………
I guess I got to just do it
Temporarily
Then get back on my feet and rise
Rise
RISE
Up to the sky where there’s no boundaries for dreams that won’t tear apart at the seams and ambition like yummy ice cream.
In this one night or even into the next day but rest is my friend and I gotta lay my head on a delicate pillow and go to bed.

Purple Sky #FBF

The rain falls and the sky is purple but my heart is green.
Filled with relief from a day that didn’t like me.
My voice is screaming heart-wrenching melodies while I’m waiting on the printer.
The sky is blue but my brain is a baby pink as I daze and forget to study.
My pen has blue ink and I’m trying to find my ipod to text my buddy.
This poem is lame.
Where’s my writing game?
Honestly, it’s a crying shame.
I just wanted to write at night, is that alright?
My flow is not that sick but this is the best I can make of it.
Purple sky
My day ends on an 8:00 high.
Peace.
Don’t let the bed bugs crawl on your knees.

(I was the coolest tenth grader ever haha. I hope you detected sarcasm in that confident and profound statement.)

Memories #TBT

Sentimental, not accidental.
They tell you where you come from and give you hope on your journey.
They comfort us while reminding us that we are still learning
About our individual selves and each other.
Memories dry your tears,
Alleviate future fears,
Turn your frown upside down and remind you ran from that clown…… you know,
That clown at your fourth birthday party,
That clown that stabbed you in the back,
or the clowns that were insecurity, immaturity and youth.
Wow, they make you feel old, don’t they.
You see that one hairstyle that you thought was all that
And no one could tell you nothin’ back then
Memories comfort you when you are takin’ back to ’88, ’98, or even ’08
Or when you’re alone they make you think of home,
Home, where the heart is.
That sounded cheesy and the meaning of this composition is starting to fizz.
Ok, snap out of it!
Stop relying on the fourth wall as a call to pity,it ain’t pretty.
Sentimental, not accidental.
Something you cherish
When you are at peace and it is your time to go home to your rightful resting place and your creator’s living, breathing and glorious.

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