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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 –

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

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)

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

Rose in her hand...I saw a girl she was there for days
sitting at the pavement
Not talking or looking around at anyone
She had a dark red rose in her hands
She was holding it so hard that the thorns
were digging into her skin..

I asked her "Are you alright?" She looked up, then back down at the rose, breathed in to say "Yes, I'm quite alright thank you." She was shaking, her hands were cut dripping with blood from the thorns. I told her "Don't clench it so hard, its fragile and your bleeding" She looked down further and shakily said "..Maybe.. Maybe I want to bleed" I got shocked at this and backed off I didn't want to make anything worse..
A few days went by..
The girl wasn't around,
I knew whereabouts she lived
So I went to see if she was okay
I saw a rose on the grass outside
her house.. Below a window..
A half open window, with the curtains
Drawn only about two inches

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.

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)

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.

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 ~FireeHeart

BloomingFlowers take time to bloom
Lives are timed
Every step a memory
Pedals fragile pieces
Of which hold past
Memories fade
As flowers wither
Everything dies
Slowly sleeping
Forever

Saving MyselfFaith dies
Confusion is all
Unable to feel warmth
Yet numbness covers all around
Struggling for breathes
Which hold pain and sorrow
Save me
Just one last time
You knew I'm not strong
You were my only reason
Can you please
Light this lifeless nightmare up
Decades could pass
Until a candle is found
Tears slowly escape
Nothing seems this wrong before
So please
Come back and save me
One last time
Let me say I love you
So this pain will stop

EmptyYour still in my heart,
I can't let go,
Why is it always me..
My heart feels so broken,
Yet so.. together,
Love slowly dies..
As tears escape my eyes..
Nothing is clear but..
I really need you back,
Let me have another chance,
Seasons will change…
Words won't be spoken,
Is this the meaning of life?
Just for a day..
Try to be me..
Missing someone..

MistakesThe rain hides tears,
Letting them run freely,
Why can't this end,
My heart feels so broken,
Inside..
Empty and dead..
Why do people try and save me,
It's a waste..
Let me be a hidden mistake..
In a crowd of people..
Who never got hurt before,
Just tell me how to pretend,
Let my life become a mirror..
Which reflects failure,
Everyday will seem wrong,
But aren't those..
What mistakes are?

DoubtAfter the clouds,
Rain,Words,hurt..
How can you be certain,
The sun will be there..
Maybe its the moon,
Sun was to tired of waiting..
What if this lasts forever..
Regrets just make the clouds..
Heavier, darker more dreadful,
So why does it even exist?..
If everything happends for a reason,
Was I just a mistake?,
From my parents?...
Or what..
This isn't the truth,
Everyone has their own path..
Yet I don't know..
Everything was so clear..
Now its just gone,
Like a blink of the eye,
Sounds die,
Silence will rule,
Voices are muted..
People disappear,
Dreams slowly end..
Reality hits,
Yet my heart is still cold stone,
Ca

Faded MemorySomeone special,
He I once knew..
I fell for him,

Years pass..
Bridge which was so strong..
Now so fragile,

Can't the past..
Dance and the future sleeps,
Why does everything must end..

Love is senseless..
Knowing you'll risk it all,
Just for eternal happyness..

Which can only last years..
It'll grow old..
And blur out,

Photographs will burn,
Notes will tear..
Tears will escape,

Tell me why..
Love is like this,
Why I fell for my friend,

Sometimes its cruel,
Unjust or just stupid,
Tell me why..

He's gone now,
Everything inside..
Is so hollow and lifeless,

Answer that..
Then path to happyness..
Will open,

Until then

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Paper Flowers

by ~FireeHeart, Sep 27, 2012, 2:34:33 PM
Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

Sitting on a hill
Underneath the trees,

The wind
Seems to be at ease,

The sun is setting..
The exploding colors
Make a perfect silhouette..

The night sneaks up slowly,

Flowers are laid
On the ground..

They look thin
As paper..
They turn to ash
As the wind takes them
Far from here

Paper Flowersby ~FireeHeart

Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

©2012-2013 ~FireeHeart

..

*IRideAMagicalLadle Sep 28, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

Beautiful words, I love the title!

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~FireeHeart Oct 3, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

^^

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