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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 –
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)
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"
RelapseIt’s like counting
Saturn’s rings,
hash marks
along your limbs -
remembering a time
when

‘just one more’

made you feel better.

- & you’re sitting there
wondering why
Draco, stuck in limbo
always looks like he’s

falling.
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.
We are the King and Queen of Broken DreamsStanding still in a mine field, staring at all we have left.
We were so young, we didn’t stop to think.
Now we’re in a car crash, teetering on the brink.
If you were to leave me now, I don’t know what I’d do.
 
It was a whirl wind romance,
A light when all was black, a spark of something when all was bleak.
You swept me off my feet and made me feel brand new.
I thought we could live forever and I’m certain you did to.
 
We built a house without foundations
And now we’re falling down,
Everything’s crumbling around us, time slipping through out fingertips.
People used to walk past us but they were to drunk to see,
That our lives are coming apart around us, there is no light as far as we can see.
 
There was no fire to start with,
Just two broken things, the world had left behind.
The casualties of other people’s dreams of power, money and control,
Spat out onto the curb to rot away and die.
We never stood a chance or so
wallflower clippingsthere's scar tissue in her throat,
swollen around the words she never said;
dark rings around her eyes
like planets unremembered, and
a staleness to her touch,
the crystalline Dead Sea.

she's living like a story
that's already been told
"if no one loved you
would you mean anything at all?"

in that moment,
we forget to exist.
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.
Falling off the EdgeDo you know what it feels like?
To nearly fall off the edge,
but not quite...
just so that you're dangling;
clinging for your worthless life
lest it fall into the sea of loneliness.
Your callused, pink fingers turning
to a shade of purplish-red of pain
as it does it best to hold on.

Splash.

In the sea of loneliness,
everything is crisp, translucent.
There is nothing around you,
you are alone...
unlike other people,
you have no one
clamouring to save you;
you have no one
diving in to get you out.

There is no point
screaming for help,
you will only waste
the little time and air you have left.
You only have the darkness
of the sea envelop
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)
Honesty    Written

         from the

              heart.

No eraser.
Her SideTomorrow she'll be gone,
but what can you say?
Nothing can help her.
The pain won't go away.

But she would've stopped,
you could've said no.
That's what she wanted,
someone to say don't go.

That someone wanted her,
or at least would try.
That someone would grieve
if she were to die.

But you just stared,
nodding your head,
and she realized the truth
with a feeling of dread.

No one wanted her.
No one cared.
Not even you,
with the the love you shared.

So she said good-bye,
and you watched her leave.
She may have had the rope,
but now you can't breathe.
PerfectEver had the feeling where you can't stop looking at a picture?
Your gorgeous face makes me smile
Go weak at the knees
Makes me giggle like a little girl

Those morning texts
All day conversations
Random silly things like that
Make me smile

I see the led light flash the colours I've set for when I get a message from you
My heart flutters
My cheeks flush
I go deaf to the world when I'm reading a message from you

If your down
I'm always there for you
I know you don't want to worry me
I know you want me to smile
But I'm always here for you
No matter how you feel
I'd prefer to help
Than for you to be down

Your gorgeous eyes
Are mesmerising
You
With This RingWith this ring,

I swear to keep myself pure.

To not give myself away until the night of my marriage,

To the one whom God has chosen for me.

With this ring,

I swear to avoid the temptations

That may lead me astray

And defile me.

With this ring

I swear to not only keep my body pure,

But to keep pure my mind.

To not think perverted thoughts,

To not corrupt myself from within.

With this ring,

I swear that all of what I am will be pure

For he who is to be my husband.
Browse More Like This

More from ~neoshayna888

Dying is an Art - XVIII.
XVIII.
(P.S.)

I wish I didn't, but I still
think of you.

I still remember
your details, and I
miss them.

Why couldn't you listen to her?

Why didn't take the chance that
I did?

I hope that you will
tell me.

Someday,
any day.

Give up your silence and I will
give you mine.
Dying is an Art - XVII.
XVII.
(Ett, Ensam)

I am lonely,

an anxious, fearful, awkward
infant.

I talk too fast and too much and too often
and too confusingly.

I talk about things people don't understand
or don't understand what people talk about.

I avoid what others run to and
seek out what others avoid.

Who am I?

                 Who
                 am
                  I

I think I might be crazy.

I keep existing, though, somehow not
yet taken by Evolution. Is that right?
Am I a correction or a mistake?
Am I the eraser or the scribble of pencil?
Dying is an Art - XVI.
XVI.
(Chaos)

I can feel things moving,
even when my eyes are closed.
They are fast and swirling,
particles bumping into
each other without so much
as an,

"I'm sorry. Pardon me."

You left me. You left me
alone and shuddering,
convulsing and abandoned.
You left me for yourself.

How can a mother do that?
How can you do that without
a second thought?

I lost you and was angry.
And then I lost him,
and I felt guilty.

Do you think it hurt when I had to
sign away his body to cremation?
Do you think it was easy to feel
like I should be feeling something,

anything at all?

My personal existence,
it crumbled, it swirled,
it tri

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6-14-2010

:iconneoshayna888:

I am
connecting the dots as they are

falling

and collecting the fragments of
childhood.

You were once a part of me

(but never knew);

You took a part of me

(but never will know).

Because I thought I had more time,
I ended up with nothing but
chimes striking one o'clock.
Too late to try, too easy to --

A landscape portrait without you. Every option,
every possible path presented here, is
lonely.

In time, I have lost you (and that
piece of me you tore off on the
perforated line).

In time, I will look for you, behind
every second hand and
binary calculation that
picked you out of my life too soon.

181

2 4 5
:iconneoshayna888:

6-14-2010by ~neoshayna888

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Yes, it hurts me. Yes, it hurts me. Yes, it hurts me...

Goodbye; enjoy you life, and I hope to find you again some day.

Written: June 14, 2010
©2010-2013 ~neoshayna888
Category: Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

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June 15, 2010
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:iconkatchuuh:
~KatchuuH Aug 12, 2010
Very nicely written. :heart:
Reply
:iconneoshayna888:
~neoshayna888 Aug 13, 2010
:D
Reply
:iconlookingglassart:
~LookingGlassArt Aug 7, 2010
I am sorry for your pain, this is very nice and I like the way you laid it out
Reply
:iconneoshayna888:
~neoshayna888 Aug 7, 2010
I'm glad you like it. :) Writing helps me sort out what's going on in my life, even the painful things.
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