Why do we have these skins?
Come with me, cast off this shell.
My need -
is transcendence -
...
Who are you,
Invisible person?
Why do you haunt me,
And stress me so?
...
Have I made it clear enough,
Mister?
Mister who, may I inquire?
Mister you, is all I require,
...
Valentine's is near
Everyone's a'out their way
I'll sit and wear
A smile on my stead
...
Sitting here in morning's hold,
Less than day,
More than night,
I lay awake wondering
...
I'm... Well... I'm only 16, first of all. I act like a typical high-schooler in a lot of ways, but in a lot of others I don't. In fact, I have no idea in which ways I'm like other people and which I'm not. I guess that probably sets me apart, because I question myself, whereas a lot of people just say 'bawww I'm so alone nobody understands me or is like me'. I know there are many people like me, but unfortunately, the ones who are like me are, like me, not very social and I don't often get the chance to befriend them or get to know them, so the internet is my release. I write poems occasionally because often times they allow me to express things that are otherwise inexpressible. I'm a bit bitter, and a bit cynical. Naturally, some people dislike me for that. I also try not to let trivial emotions cloud my judgment, though I realize they often do. If they didn't I'd be a sociopath and there'd be no need for stupid poetry. I've had 3 girlfriends in my life, two when I was 12 and one more recently for a week, before she broke up with me for sort-of unknown reasons, and I don't have very many friends, so my poetry tends to be more about crushing loneliness and wanting anyone to be there with me, or things like that, not breaking up, not hard relationships, nothing to do with relationships (Well, nothing to do with having one) . (Well, okay, Repetition is about our break-up but that's the only one so far) Another thing is that I don't make enemies. I don't judge people who try but mess up, as I know how that feels. Most people either don't know who I am or like me, I'm proud to say. Unfortunately, most people fall into the former category.)
Spared Me
I want it
I crave it
I need to
I can't control
My self control
Is no more
I know, I know;
You're just another
But I cant help it;
You'd never thought
That I'd be Him
You'd never spared me,
Any passing whim;
I've spared you
Forever
Will I never?
Can I ever?
(Is my very first)