Poetry is poetry whether it depicts a sad and soul wrenching theme, or if it sends someone to universe that they feel happy in. However, i still feel the same way i do about rhyming, but if that what helps you get it out, then you have every right as a writter and artist to use rhymes.

Looking back at everything i have written, i was a troubled girl who was saved by pen and paper, friends and even the art of others. I greatly advise anyone to start writting, drawing, singing, playing sports, anything to keep you happy and steer you away from suicide. You do matter whether you know that upfront or not.

Far Far Away...

there is a girl who saw the world as a fairytale,
she deceived herself and tried to hide from her pain
she put on a mask telling the world that she is a girly girl
when inside she is a mess dying to get out

hiding it all inside tore her up and destroyed many relationships
until she met one guy who gave her the chance to spill everything
she took this chance to see if he would stay and he did for a short while...

he found out she cut herself and tried to help, but he failed...
he tried to understand but left her in her dark hole to get herself out

she is still there waiting for a way out or for the boy to come back
and help her...until then she is consumed by her darkness and her own blood

Can't you hear me?

can you hear me scream?
can you hear me resist?

you dont want to hear me
because you know im right
you know that i know
who you are

you can't hear me because
their lies have drowned you
making you think that i'm
the evil one

story of a lost heart

a piece of something valuable torn,
a relic of something once so pure,
an image of pure beauty

a heart, once found, but now lost,
a soul, once whole, now broken,
a dream, once secret, now an embarrassment

an item once sacred, now unimportant,
a star, now an empty darkness,
a gift, now a broken toy,

that heart that i speak of,
is now lost, lost because
of careless use and neglect

a heart not broken,
a heart not frayed,
but a lost heart

a heart that hopes its love
will find it and ask it for its
hand,

a heart that asks to be
used properly and to be
loved and it loved its caregiver

a heart lost because of the demon,
the demon that stole its love away and
rules the loved one's mind

my own world

My own world

This world is only real to those
Who can see it and live in it
But my world is much more

It’s a place where imagination and creation
Can roam free without being criticized and
Thrown away

It’s a place where the impossible becomes
Reality and where dreams become life

But only those who let these things flow
Within their body can find this place and make
It there own

In this place, many things live, die and
Have fun

How is dying fun? Its not, but this place
Makes it feel okay and this place feels
Like an escape from criticizing eyes

This is a place where it becomes yours
And a whole new world to venture into
And find your true self and your
True being

A place that you can use as a getaway
When you are attacked or when you
Need time to think things through
And when you need a place to call
Home…

BEautiful hearts

Beautiful hearts

Love, laughter, beauty, and hope create
A genuine and pure heart

But what does a beautiful
One consists of?

Is it faith? Lust? Dreams?
What about deception?

A beautiful heart holds all of these things
And more that cannot be put into
The words of a poem

Only the ones who feel pain, happiness,
Regret, sorrow and anger hold a beautiful heart

Why did I write this? To poor out my beautiful heart
And show you that yours is just as or maybe even
More beautiful than mine