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Lovelove

Someone asked me what is love
is it good, is it bad
is it awesome, is it terrible
I honestly didnt know how to answer them.
I finally desided love is the most complicated of all emotions
Love is kind
love is harsh
love is wonderful
love is terrible
love is a cure
love is a sickness
love is LOVE
love is hate
love is meaningful
love is pointless
love shows the best in people
love shows the worse in people
love makes us speak truth
love makes us lie
love understands everything
love confuses everyone
love builds your life
love tears your heart down
love makes you smile
love makes you cry
love makes us cuddle
love m

SuicideSuicide... they call it sin
They say it is a death in which no-one wins...

They encourage you not to do it, they say it is wrong...
But who is there to encourage you when you can't be strong.

You feel like you have no-one, not even a friend.
No shoulder to cry on, just one last letter to send.

tragedies - collab.you deserve all the cobweb dreams,
fairytale hopes, and explosive love
in the world, but i know that i
will never be the one
to give them to you.

you need notes that end with
'ps - you're brighter than
twenty-seven silver stars'.
i can't bring myself
to write them, though.

it's not like you'd read them,
anyway.

i cut out paper hearts and
dreams and gave them to you, but
you only ripped them up and said
'these aren't good enough.'

when i painted you a picture
of golden skies and sunshine smiles,
you handed it back and told me
'next time, paint realistically.'

so i wrote you a story
filled of starless nights and
hopeless d

the speed addictthe speed addict knows if he stops moving,
he will die. so when inertia takes hold
his heart falters and his head slams against
a future, lit by the dashboard. he hears
his veins stuttering like gears grinding out
a staccato refrain, while the wheel spins and
goes numb. as his breath twists away from his grip,
rasps a hollow plea, he slides on a rail
towards impartial angels leaving rainbow sparks
in his soaring wake, and meets blazing lights.
the addict dies twice. one is nev

I..I..

I hate the way you smile
The way you wear your hair
I hate how you know I'd drop it all
If you said you care

I hate how you massacre my thoughts
And run rampant through my brain
Destroy the monotony my life blocks
and drum the rhythm of the rain

I hate how you spoke to me
And said you love me with those eyes
I hate how I knew it'd hurt
and hated more when I saw you cry

I hate how our shot was so short
Lasting only through the fall
I hate how I can't stop thinking of you
Because I could never hate you at all

heart song.this is the song
to your heart.

listen.

-

part zero.
oh, dearest,
why are you locked inside
a bathroom stall? no one
to hold you, tell you sweet
lies and say you are
beautiful, say you are
perfect? it's not the end of
the world, not yet. if it was,
wouldn't there be
fireworks?

-

part one.

sleeping.

your heart is not yet
dead; please do not
say it is. if it was dead,
it wouldn't hurt this
much.

your heart is only sleeping.

-

part two.

when the only melody in your head
is a break up song, and the only thing
your heart seems capable of doing
is twisting itself into knots, and the only
thing you want to do is hide a

DementiaThe old man sits with stooped back.
The room is cold, just like his hands.
Thoughts have wandered like small children.
He wonders if he will see home again.

Thoughts have wandered home again,
with stooped backs and cold hands.
The room sits with the old man.
Like small children, he wonders if he will see cold.

Back stooped with thoughts, he wanders.
Like a child the small room sits, wondering.
Home again is cold.
The old man will see with his hands.

Thoughts have wandered with stooped backs.
The cold hands sit with the old man.
He wonders if he will see like small children.
The room is home again.

you can't feel through fabrictonight the rain becomes the earth
falling from hidden spaces in the sky and swollen clouds
i hear it make mud of dirt, and lovers of friends
and ask, quiet, where are you going but down?

i’m not all there in the head
you’re not all there in the head, my mother says
i’m not all there in the head i repeat
sometimes i’m there in my toes and fingers and heart as well

and now - in this downpour moment- i lie on the street
so warm that i think well that’s where love’s gotten to
but where is your shirt n? oh someplace else
and is that a light flickering in the house across the road? hide!

i rush in soaken w

A Beautiful ThoughtOh, we're so brilliant, aren't we?
We're so freaking lovely.
We're filled with glowing rainbow pride
And we're so pretty it's ugly
Our self-made wounds throb with beauty
And you'll paint your face with hypocrisy

We're everything we're believed to be
We're saviors and artists and celebrities
We're gulping down ego and inhaling pride
We're gestating self-worth in our insides

We're icons of envy to all of our peers
Self-assured by attention attained all these years
I'm something you need and something you're not
She's almost so hideous that it's something I want

But I did say almost
(But you did say want)

Oh, we're such liars
It

This PainTears roll down my face,
As I cut myself,
To release the pain.
It hurts so much,
But feels so good.
The pain is draining from me,
In drops of blood.
As I watch my pain leave from me,
I think,
"How can this be,
That I have so much pain
When I'm only merely 16?".
Then I remember the past that I've had,
Memories of yelling,
slamming doors,
all the awful scars.
I've cried too much,
I've hated so many,
That I don't think people will ever get me.
I come back from my world of thoughts
And realize that I've bled too much,
It's all over the counter,
It's becoming messy,
But I don't care.
I just want this pain out of me.
I'm

Sunday in the Kitchendear mother,

i ask you how far we are from heaven.
hunched over the sunday paper like a patient gargoyle.
your eyes blinking too often, and tongue snaking
around in your mouth, as if the answer is hidden between your teeth.

dear mother,

you hum holy bars in the kitchenette.
say "hallelujah means praise yahweh, praise the lord"
say "angels must rest on the tongue of that word"
say "angels, oh angels hallelujah, hallelujah, rest in me"

but you haven't slept in weeks.
i hear you sob sigh into the night like a prayer.
like your table lamp is the closest thing to heaven-gates.

dear mother,

sometimes i still wish i could pray with you

Let's Hate
Age 11

We met in a room full of crowded people
who knew my name
they knew my face
and they knew things I didn't
Most people there knew his parents
and that was about it; the knowledge ended there

He said, Come with me
and I said no
I made friends with social rejects
and I made enemies with people hard to avoid
We kept in touch
But only

Depressing PoemsSorry --

What if she died?
And at the funeral her parents told you,
"You could have saved her from herself."
How would that make you feel?
And that night you went home
Sat in your room alone
And killed yourself
Just to be with her again and tell her
"I'm sorry."

Friends --

Why do people try to help me?
Do they care?
I guess they do
But all I do is hurt them
Especially Sarah
She keeps trying to help me
But all I do is push her away
She's my best friend
Why can't I just let her help?

Emptiness --

What if I died right now?
How would you fell?
Sad, depressed, torn apart?
Or would you feel nothing,
But an empty place that

when i look in the mirror.one.
things you touch turn silent.

hearts can be blacked, burnt, ashy - but you take the ashes and burn, burn, burn them until there's only a memory left, a memory that's all edges and icicles.

you leave me cold, empty and
i don't want to breathe anymore.

two.
'darling, you would do well to remember-

you can't have a light at the end of the tunnel
if you have no tunnel.

darling, you would do well to remember -

you are not empty. you are not empty.
[it's still hurting, after all. it's still hurting
and you don't want to live,
but you're not empty.]

darling, you would do well to remember-

they love you. they love you,

they love

ocean burning.one.

before she met you, she would reach for the sun while standing on the branches of trees, arms stretched towards the sunlight, reaching and waiting.

now, happiness is like a summer memory in the dead of winter - still there, but fading too fast to hold onto. now, she sits on rooftops with you at night, and the two of you watch as the city lights go out one by one.

two.

sometimes, when you laughed, she was reminded of the wind rushing through trees in winter - melodic and beautiful, but still cold, unforgiving.

the two of you watched the waves of the ocean take away the beach, piece by piece.

you were the waves.

she was the sand.

t

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21. VacationBeautiful scenery;
Wonderful open spaces
Senic roads and lack of technology.

Sounds relaxing;
But, is not such a luxary.

For lying so close
But yet so far

No privacy;
no place sacred for you to unwind.

20. FortitudeI envy those who live with fortitude
For strength of mind; I am lacking.

Pain is not my problem nor
Adversity; but I lack the strength to endure.

19. GreyYou say this world is either black
or white; but not for me, I see a field of grey.

On topics so controversial
there is always a common ground.

Why should we live
in a world where we all hate?

When there is an option unexplored
let us all take the road less traveled and prosper.

18. Rainbow Linkno one knows; but,
every chain of marriage comes
with a large heavy chain

this chain is a rainbow;
each link, a color of it's own.

this chain is joined by one rainbow link
where two become one.

17. BloodI am not going to romanticize it
Cutting does not deserve that honor
For when you press that sharp blade
To your flesh; one thing alone will happen
You will bleed.

There is no set way everyone cuts
Cutting is not all the same sort of relief to all
I can tell you; I prefer a knife and I cut my arms
A bitter sweet moment of life and death balanced
In my blood.

People form habits an addiction
Cutting becomes part of your life and liberty
It is not safe, no certainly not safe;
Even the careful make mistakes and loose
More than blood.

I am not going to give in
Cutting does not control me, I am strong
There will come a day, when I

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60. Rejection

by ~blonde-eyed-blue, Oct 17, 2009, 11:07:09 PM
Literature / Poetry / Experimental / Other

Too fat...
Too thin..
Too smart...
Too beautiful...
Too courageous...
Too dominant....

For when we all stand at gates of "God"
We are to be rejected as such happens.

Too Jewish...
Too Muslim...
Too Catholic...
Too Protestant...
Too Hindu...
Too Buddhist...

For when it comes to stand and be judged
We are to be rejected for our judgments.

Too suicidal...
Too merciful...
Too pious...
Too doubtful...
Too stoic...
Too happy....

For when we walk through the darkness
We are to be rejected for deeds of our own.

Too white...
Too dark...
Too yellow...
Too green...
Too left...
Too right...

For when we sit in silence and listen.
We are to be rejected for not hearing truth.

60. Rejectionby ~blonde-eyed-blue

Literature / Poetry / Experimental / Other

I like it.

~wiccan-willow Oct 18, 2009

i love this one! its so true! keep up the great work!

~blonde-eyed-blue Oct 18, 2009 Writer

Thank you.

~wiccan-willow Oct 18, 2009

you're welcome

~savy09 Oct 18, 2009

i love it your so good at writing...i love reading your poems...

~blonde-eyed-blue Oct 18, 2009 Writer

Thank you.

~savy09 Oct 18, 2009

yepper

~RushAndRuleIt Oct 17, 2009

Whether you're trying to get a job, a date, a friend, or any kind of recognition, rejection is never far away. So true...

~blonde-eyed-blue Oct 17, 2009 Writer

You do catch the grasp of the concept the poem speaks right? Or, do I need to explain this?

~RushAndRuleIt Oct 18, 2009

I have to admit that I did twist the meaning of this to be about what was important to me.

The adjectives of the first set are not really bad, so I take that to mean that the judgements are exessively harsh.

The second bit seems to be about the impossibility of logically picking the "right" religion.

The third set of adjectives are feelings and states of mind, frowned upon by some religions, and so you can be rejected from heaven because of the way you feel, which seems quite arbitrary and out of one's control.

In particular, the last line reads as though you're looking for the truth, but no clues are given. Again, it leads to unfair judgment.

Am I on the right track...?

~blonde-eyed-blue Oct 19, 2009 Writer

You are on the right track. It is a little deeper than that. I have to admit your comment made me wonder with what you were originally mentioning. However; I think you have the ideas.

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