Saturday, February 4, 2012


I have written poetry for a long time. I even had an account on for a long time... they even published some though I never made any money off of it. I stopped posting their because I felt that was stealing from me. I didn't even know that since I was underage, they couldn't even say their policy protected them. basically, no adult had approved or signed for me... they were using a kids work to gain money and I never saw a red cent. I knew others who left the site with their poetry for that reason as well.

Anyway... I wrote this poem years ago... seems like forever ago. I was young... and naive in love. I was in love with my best friend... and my best friend was an oblivious ass. He was, of course, dating one of the less "sit on the bleachers" type girls... he looked everywhere but the place I was simply a fixture in. In the end, I wondered if he even noticed when I wasn't their anymore.

"What I hide behind these eyes"

"Oh if I could only show you,
What I hide behind these eyes,

You say your grand,
You take your stand,
You've done half the school,
You broke all the rules,
You say your not worried,
You've never hurried,
You never get caught,
You are not afraid to get shot.

Oh if I could let you see,
what resides inside of these,

I am a tree-hugger,
I first told you to bugger,
I keep people away,
I know no-one will stay,
I know death first hand,
I know you wouldn't still stand,
I see in your eyes the fire inside,
I don't want to see you in death to slide,

Oh if I could only show you,
What I hide behind these eyes,

You can't see past the size of your head,
I can't see past the thought of you dead,
You fail to see your hearts existence,
I fail to tell you my secret admittance,
You go home and have it all,
I go home and watch me fall,
You go home knowing you'll see the next day,
I go back knowing if I die I will see you again someday.

Oh if you could only see,
What resides inside of these,

Maybe then you would see the tears I cry,
As the nights go by,
Maybe you would know the hands I pray,
Will not touch me this day,
Maybe then you would see the tears that won't go,
As I live in a limbo to or fro,
Maybe you will know the shame I carry,
Used and abused this yellow canary,
Maybe then you would see the marks on my skin,
Not the ones I myself pin,
Maybe you would know the game that I play,
Pretending that life has no price to pay,
Maybe then you would see the inside of me,
The wish someone see just what I can be,
Maybe then you would know the way I must travel,
Caged and kept here as my mind so unraveled,
Maybe then you would see the glass in your hands,
Is my heart as so little of what yet still stands,

Oh if only I could show you,
What I hide behind these eyes."

I wrote that... knowing what is written in my previous posts... one may even be able to catch the references to what was happening and what exactly they mean to me.

*shakes head*

I moved on with my life... fell in love.... all that jazz... this poem is only a part of the past. I see the foolishness in it now and I can catch mistakes i didn't then in it too... but... this poem was written after 2 days having been denied medication. it helped "soften" the mind. the effects themselves do not automatically fade when it is no longer in your system and I was conscious of my inner struggles to not have my mind die... which I imagine is possible(it takes a bit off of them for everything to fall back in order but when I wrote this I was relatively sane and alright-just... the part that doesn't go back so quickly was the erm... "different me's"... that took awhile... a few months at least and that is only after I finally got free, basically I was aware of what was wrong-even then and nobody listened when I tried to tell them so I stopped trying to tell them). I was trying to ease the pain and stay alive so i could one day see what made this world so great to my parents... more so my father but... I knew it was wrong, the things happening to me. I just couldn't stop it.

"Now I can stop it... to a degree,
If left here to choose which it would be,
I would not choose me,
But my dear family."

And now we touch on why I don't write, read, or re write(I didn't type this one, it was on an old paper) poetry much anymore without reason. I will be rhyming for a couple of hours and I don't like the weird looks I get. I will have to sign out of work lest I rhyme them to death...*groans*... it is a quirk.


PS: I had a female crush at one point too... I am bi not flat out lesbian. Just tossing that out their... I ignored my feelings completely on that one... she was so straight...

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