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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)

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

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

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)

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.

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)

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.

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

weight of the worldand suddenly--
it was like the world decided that
it didn't want to carry its burden any longer,
so it shifted the weight
into the hollows of my bones
and told me that
it was my problem now.

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My Black BloodYes, I've been cut open.
On purpose
and on accident.

People stared,
were they afraid?
Maybe.

Were they horrified?
Probably.

Were the shocked?
Defiantly.

They saw what runs through my veins,
they saw what keeps me alive.

What they saw, was my blood.
And my blood is black as night.

I bleed black.

I Sold My Heart to the DevilHe promised me glory.
He promised me fame.

He swore immortality to my name.
He swore I would be praised.

He said everyone one would love me.
He said I would be the envy of my friends, they would be phased.

He snapped his fingers, and I had money.
He snapped his fingers and I was rich.

With all listed above, I gave in
and sold my heart, he insists.

I sold my heart to him.

I sold my heart to the devil.

Get Me Out of This PlaceNoises hurt my head,
they cause it to throb,
to pound.

The people I have infected
are now circling me
like hungry wolves.

They are waiting until I break down
so they can feed of my failures,
off of my sadness.

I try to run,
but I get no where,
always ending up where I started.

My once joyful eyes now see darkness,
they see suffering,
they see death.

My idea of love is now so twisted,
so screwed over,
so wrong.

This is my battle cry,
please someone help me,
help me get out of this place.

If you can hear me, find me,
and take me away
find me, and bring me into the light.

All I'm asking is for you, for once,
don't turn

My Heart of Gentleness and DangerI can take your harsh words,
your teasing,
your beating.

I can handle the pain,
mentally,
and physically.

I'll ignore the rumors you spread,
all false,
few true.

I look away when you walk by,
to avoid you evil eyes,
full of hate.

Despise me if you want,
but know this;

I'm strong enough to ignore you.
Strong enough to move on.

But if you ever threaten my friends,
or family,

beware of the consequences
that come from me.

Because I can be the most feared,
the most dangerous
the most cruel
when it comes to protecting those I love.

Memories of You and II remember how we used to talk
how we used hang out.

I remember the conversations
no matter how strange they got,
we didn't feel any kind of awkwardness.

I remember how we used to laugh,
and about the stupidest things at that.

I remember your smile
and how well you hid your pain,
under those white teeth of yours.

But now, those memories are just, well
memories.

Now your gone.
And I have nothing.

I miss you, I miss us.

I know it is impossible for you to return,
but I would do anything to have you back.

Back with me.

Back on Earth.

Back to life.

When You Touch MeI love it when you touch me,

when your hands are on my hips

when your fingers run along my back

when you place your palm on my face,

and I put my hand on yours, holding it there

This is how it should be forever

But the best feeling of all

are when your lips are on mine

You could say it's a cure for forgetting

Forgetting about the stress

The haters

The pressure of being a human

The sadness

The darkness

The worry

All of that goes away

With just one kiss

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What He Wants

by ~loverofwolves1314, Aug 13, 2012, 3:41:46 PM
Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

He wants what's between my hips

What he wants is my body

He wishes for me to lay on my back

He urges to make me scream

But; I'm better than that

I ward him off with angry words

I shove him away

I keep him off of me by using my surroundings

I'm able to send HIM on his back, instead of me

After all, it's hard to win a gunfight; when all you have is a knife.

What He Wantsby ~loverofwolves1314

Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

I kinda updated this one over and over a bit. I think I finally found the right words to go to it.

Even though she might not ever see this; this poem is for my friend and I, based on an event that took place in our lives; not too long ago actually.

Don't forget to comment!

Enjoy!

~LevROLL Aug 13, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

I wish I was able to write personal poetry. Or poetry at all. What I write always ends up drowned in subtext I didn't realize was there at the time.

Anyway, I enjoyed it. Assuming my ability to read and/or comprehend isn't as sub-par as I may believe it is, the message is commendable.

~loverofwolves1314 Aug 13, 2012 Student General Artist

Thanks! Glad you enjoyed it

And I just write what I feel, or about events that happened in my life. You should give it a shot!

~LevROLL Aug 13, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

I have... tried. My life, to myself, seems rather uneventful. I am sure there are things here or there, but I as of yet have found little to be inspired by.

Call it apathy and a lack of perceptible faith. Or something.

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