The One Word That is Perfect

I have this word that haunts me everyday and has been since I can remember. I know that I will never be able to have it and I know I can never reach it, but I still keep trying to grab it by the neck and make sure I've got it. I keep trying to prove people wrong; I keep trying to reach for the sky with only a step ladder.

I try and tell myself nothing is impossible but that is just a lie they taught us when we were young. They told us to dream to the moon and back, but I wanted to dream to Jupiter. They taught me that I could be anything, but they were lying. The school teachers were lying. None of us in this class, in this school are ever going to reach it. None of us will ever be
perfect.

I Need Those Days

Some days I just need to hear the words "I love you" from my parents and from the guy I'm dating because he doesn't know any better. I need those days where I can wrap myself in your arms and you let me know everything will be okay, even though I know it probably won't be.

Some days I just need to curl up in a ball and cry for hours on my bed. I need those days where I know you're not there for me and I know you're never coming back, but some days I want your shoulder to support me. Some days all I do is dream of you coming back and pretending like this whole mess never happened.

Some days I need to tell myself that you hate me, even though I know you don't. I need those one in a blue moon days where I tell myself that I'm unwanted and to not care about anything or anyone else in life but me. I need to tell myself that nobody really needs me and that I am only one person who can't make a difference
    but I know this isn't true, and I need more of those days where I have to be honest with myself and let disappointment set in.

But I already have those days where mistakes are made because I've forgotten that everyone is human. & I always have those days where my best effort isn't going to be enough.
I need those days where reality is willing to slap me in the face and tell me that somethings are impossible.

Paper

If this were a paper there would be tears everywhere.

This is only High School

I decided that I will just sleep and let go.
I decided that not trying will be okay someday.
I decided that even if I go nowhere after, this someone will always be there for me

because in the end this was only high school.
In the end you probably were somebody.
In the end you might have made it through anything,

but in the end we'll loose ourselves.
In the end we'll forget that we have to make someone out of us.
In the end we'll just remember their faces and not the names.

So I'll try and keep pushing and I guess I'll try to work these problems out.
 but in the end I decided if I just stop trying, death still won't grab me by the ankles.

The Greatest

Rock out like you were the greatest.


Rock out like all the guilt in your stomach just escaped you, or rock out because all this pain was gone. Rock out like all your mistakes taught you something, but too bad they never will.

Rock out like this class you hate just got cancelled or rock out like you passed the test. Rock out like you never had to think of this again. & rock out like you just reached the moon and back. Rock out like dreams became your reality or rock out because nightmares never do.

Rock out like the first time you made eye contact with the school's cutest boy, and rock out like he actually knew your name. Rock out because even after he graduated he still says hi.

Rock out like the stars were always up at night and the next morning didn't have to come.

Rock out like life gave us a map with all our left and rights. & rock out like you just robbed the bank with no cameras in sight. Rock out like you just won first place because he only noticed you, or rock out because he didn't and you no longer have to try.

Rock out like you just had your first kiss. Rock out like the movies always ended your way and rock out like Bella choose Jacob. (I hate Twilight) Rock out like your parents lived forever or until you died. & rock out like you never had to worry about having a nickel or a dime.

Rock out like this poem was the best. Rock out like someone actually cared. & rock out like you didn't have to worry about giving up or disappointing, but now rock out because your parents just let you know their proud of you. Rock out like you've just realized setting your own bar of perfect isn't the smartest. Rock out because you've realized it will be okay. Rock out because this isn't the end of the world. Rock out like you were the greatest.

Tape for the duct(s)

People decided to change me and make me some sort of fashion trend. They wanted to make me more unique so I let them change me. I let them add some colors and prints. & now I'm not "me," now I hate looking at myself. I hate how I let them do this to me, how I let them tell me all about this word "unique". The word that seems to make me something completely different. I wanted to keep myself, but I couldn't. I let them tell me it's okay to stick some blues and greens here and there. I let them tell me it was okay to change.

But even though I let them change me I can still fix almost anything, except for broken hearts and torn up families. & I still can't fix cancers or shattered mirrors, but I can still feel you touch me with your cold hands. I can still feel you ripping and tearing me apart. I can still hear the things you said about me. & I still want to cause you all the right pains in all the wrongs places. & I'm trying to torture you, but I can't move. The layers and layers on top of me won't let me move. They won't let me see or feel things anymore. & now I'm stuck right where you left me. "Pick me back up." You won't listen.  You made me uninteresting.

The Title

Let me tell you about..


Something that is made up of ugly colors.
Something so heavy it helps build muscle.
Something so amazing it can break bones, windows, street lamps.
Let me tell you about something you trip on.
Something that helps you get writers brick block.
Something so simple it makes you wonder about life,
     makes you think a little different.
Something I use to imagine your death.
Something that thugs use to break in.
Let me tell you about something that made my heart race.
Something so simple we stack them to build buildings to the sky.
Something that looks like a stop light when you hold it a certain way.
Something that birds use as a house.
Let me tell you about a unique flower vase.
Something that helps build a strong foundation.
Something that can be used to celebrate, like confetti.
Something that helps me knock you out.

Let me tell you about
b
r
i
c
k
s

The Little Girl's Mind

"He touched you? You let him touch you."

Yes.
I let him put his hands all over me,
     let him kiss me everywhere,  
          let him hold my body against him.
Does that bug you, mother? Does it bother you that I'm not your little girl anymore. That I saw what you really were and now I don't want to be anything like you.
Does it?
I'm asking you a question. Should I SCREAM it?
DOES IT BUG YOU
Tell me mother because lately I don't care if he loves me or not. 
Lately I don't care if you want me.

Lately I don't care about you
     I've never cared about you.

& after I slam that door behind me I'm not coming back.
Just try and stop me.



    (PLEASE TRY & STOP ME)
Mom, I need you.

& death wakes us up

"What if life is a dream and death wakes us up?"

My bones say I'm alive.
They tell me to escape and be free.
     That in the end I can't look back.
Everything will be okay my bones tell me.
We all die, my bones remind me.

My bones remind me that one day they'll stop speaking, whispering, yelling.

My bones are telling me to speak up.
They are hurting me. They want everyone to know what they're saying,
     what they're feeling.
I want to speak up, I really do I tell my bones. They ignore me.

My bones are telling me to try something new
     something courageous.
I tell my bones I'm scared. They won't listen.
I tell them I can't. They won't pay any attention.

My bones won't give up.

& my bones are becoming louder and louder
     they won't stop. They won't quiet down.
They keep telling me things..
My bones keep speaking.
Listen to me - to your heart. My bones said.

Thinking

Delete. Backspace. Select all. Delete.

Emotions? Yeah, I have them.


Fellings? I have those too.


Ideas? I have many.

but for some reason I can't seem to express myself
     like I used to,                                   or at all.
For some reason I keep caring about what you think about me.
I keep wondering if you'll like this.

For some unexplained reason I want my audience back,
     but why should my audience matter.
I want to live life knowing that I did things and said things for me, not for you [Mr. & Mrs. Poetry].
Why should I want YOU to think about this post, the last or the first, twice?

Eh, who knows -WAIT- I know,
     because I want to feel appreciated.

I want myself back, but for no reason I can't be myself.
I can't be myself. 
I can't tell myself everything will be okay because people keep worrying me.
Scaring me.


I want to get to the water and not just get the carrot.