[x]

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

UneditedWe cry.
We scream.
We fight for our dream.

We scream.
We cry.
We're just waiting to die.

The same emotions
with a different drive.
Sometimes dead, sometimes alive.

The same in one way,
different in another
brother and sister, sister and brother.

So close in feeling,
so different in the end.
Falling apart, or finally on the mend?

Which am I?
Will I ever know?
Fighting to stay or ready to go?

Maybe I'm both,
in some impossible way.
Emotions oddly mixed everyday.

Wouldn't surprise.
I'm such a freak.
Excuse me, I laugh, I should call it "unique"

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.

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.

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

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)

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)

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

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More from ~WafflesxSyrup

I know whats it's like to be invisible
That horrible feeling of misery you get when your abandoned
To feel alone, yet your surrounded by millions of people
To be jealous of their smiling faces as they laugh with their friends
How much you wish that you could be like them
To be surrounded by loved ones to acknowledge you for who you are
Not who you want to be
Sometimes I build up the courage to speak up and try to be noticed
But it only results in failure
They push you back into the shadows of the world and continue on like you never existed
It makes you question you existence
Why were you born? Am I here for a reason? Will anyone c

Don't give up.

It's funny how our pasts frame us
How the person we used to be never lets go of who we are today
Our failures and victories
They haunt us like ghosts or visit us like old friends
But it's up to you whether you choose to dwell on it or let it be a friendly reminder
You can give up and never try again
Or you can convert your failure into energy to put towards perseverance
People who choose to give up will soon find themselves lonely at a dead end
Those who choose to keep going will find the road of success and true happiness
People say there's lots of choices you can make in life
But there's really only two
Surrender or Fight
Which

Music is my Medicine

My music is your medicine
The only thing that keeps me sane
When someone takes the music away
I will fight all night and day to return my music
back to, "PLAY"

Sometimes you feel like dying
So I just sit there crying
But then I hear it ringing loud
And I continue drowning

I hear the sound of that voice that says: You are worthless!
I hear my music shout loud: It's not worth it!
I scream at you: This is not what you want to do!
All you seem to say is: Sorry.
But that's all you ever are, is Sorry,

Why are you doing this to yourself
It's not helping
Why would even think about dying
You're putting this on me too
We're in this

God...where are you?

People say…
God will always Love and Protect you
Then why hasn't he protected me from this Terrible life?
Does he have a reason to keep me alive?
Or maybe…
It was just out of "luck"
Or maybe…
I kept myself alive
Because I know that there's someone out there that will Love me
Maybe God just thinks I'm not Worthy
To Protect and Love
Who knows if theirs a God at all…
But if there is, he better watch out
For all the people I Love.
And if he doesn't.
Then I'll meet him face to face
And tell him…

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Sick day

by ~WafflesxSyrup, Dec 1, 2012, 7:22:57 PM
Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

Sluggishly I walk to the medicine cabinet
No school today for this sick puppy
the germs have penetrated my thick force field
leaving me wounded a useless for battle

Chicken noodle soup is a comfort
it soothes the ongoing pain
The bed is my best friend today
it is essential to become fully alive again

Sick dayby ~WafflesxSyrup

Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

©2012-2013 ~WafflesxSyrup

My 3rd poem for Creative writing...
I was supposed to write 2 poems from a list of subjects to choose from...
I chose "Feeling Sick." And this is the result....
Hope you like it...

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*Me2Smart4U Dec 2, 2012 Student Digital Artist

this is so cute

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~WafflesxSyrup Dec 3, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Haha, thanks.

I wrote this about being sick...and everyone says it's cute...

Ok then xD

Reply

*Me2Smart4U Dec 3, 2012 Student Digital Artist

it is still well written

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~WafflesxSyrup Dec 3, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Thank you!

Reply

*Me2Smart4U Dec 3, 2012 Student Digital Artist

Reply

Mood: Love

*IRideAMagicalLadle Dec 2, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

aw its cute!

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~WafflesxSyrup Dec 2, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Ah, thank you? XD
The poem or the picture? XDD

Reply

*IRideAMagicalLadle Dec 3, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

The poem

Though the picture is adorable to!

Reply

~WafflesxSyrup Dec 4, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Awww, thank you! ^o^

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