i can see the coldness within my soul,
i get the feeling that im watching it fall,
clinging tight like laundry pins,
but spinning faster than the pottery spins,

im never there really,
always pushing back the real me's,
who i trap like bumble bees,

in a jar,

call it a green house affect,
nothing ever goes out,
yet it pounds on these walls of thick glass,

screaming to the heavens,
seawaves to the land,
nothing on the sand,

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Light and Dark

Light turns shadow
Shadow grows darker
Brightness has left from my eyes

Light has left me
Darkness calls me
As I sink into these lies

The world has called me
And I will answer
As I fall into this void

Sleep now takes me
Life has left me
Now I lie dead and cold.

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What I am.

Porcelain hands, legs, chest, face, and heart.
That is what I am.
Fragile, underestimated, overlooked.
Admired, but not loved.
Envied, and untouched.

Painted lips, dead eyes, no emotion, no voice.
That is not what I am.
Weak, empty, forgotten.
Looked at, yet seen right through.
Touched, without being felt.

I don't know what I am.
I am unseen, and unimportant.
Yet I am gazed upon, and held dear.
What am I?
A Doll?
A Trophy?
A Girl?
A Soul?
A Someone?
A Nothing?
Who knows.
Perhaps, I simply am, what I am.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

thoughts/comments appreciated.

View invisibird's Full Portfolio


I lay awake staring at the stars.
how far away they seem.
couldn't catch them if i tried
not even in my dream.
the stars aren't meant for holding
no they're meant to be free
there meant to shine and glisten
and i think theres a star in me
Don't hold me down, don't make me fall.
just to make someone wish come true
I'll shine for you in the dark.
Just don't forget me when the sky turns blue.

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It's been years now,
Since they took up a "hobby",
Fourteen years of giggles and smiles,
Inside jokes and girl talk,
It's been two years,
Since boys had cooties,
Or were just a waste of time,
fourteen years of "You're to young",
And "it gets worse",
it's been one year,
Since bestfriends for never,
And the start of a bad habit,
Fourteen years of tears and pain,
Lost thoughts and broken promises,
It seems there are days every year,
It does get worse,
But why?
Why doesn't it get better?
Truth is all of those years,
Occurred a perfect time every day,
An amazing change,
Life, breath, everything you need is there,
Every day of every,

Author's Notes/Comments: 

True but not good.

View bloodbutterfly's Full Portfolio


Like a shiny demigod, you stand here before me with unconcerned eyes beaming down into the depths of all I am, but you’re blind and I can’t seem to find the will to help you-- I don’t care to. I’ll let you struggle and always think you know when even I can’t know. There’s a dynamic flow in everything and it’s everywhere, but still from somewhere a selfish, stagnant force fights for dictation, and gets stuck at ideation. We get stuck at identification and separate you from me. We’re isolating and decimating, contemplating and waiting for some external action to save us.
Failing to see the unity, schisms fracture Love and disrupt Peace. Quakes of arrogant desire believe their imagined lies to confine their own lives strict within the cage of fearful ignorance, securing us in sensation and fenced in selective cohesion. Reason is a thing oft in neglect, associated with only the intellect, a mere man, amassing “facts.” Think about your knowledge and realize it’s aged, already stale (naturally technique and recipe remain). We can’t know NOW, and therefore can’t measure it. With no labels, now is new, infinitely unknown… This is now. This is all there is and all I am, but not me. There is no will, therefore no actor. There is no I… There is this moment….and here, accordance with the harmony of reality occurs. “I” don’t love. Here, there is Love, Peace, and Freedom, the lack of all self. Nothing is here, but here is everything.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

No comment

Me, Myself, and I

Me, me, me;
That’s all we think about
All we care about
The reason behind our actions
And our feelings.

It is the image in the mirror
Who is with you all the time
The one who listens to your crazy thoughts
And doesn’t seem to mind.

I am the only thing that matters
I do not listen to anyone else
Only me, myself, and I.

In the end,
The one who will be there for us
The only one we will need
Is ourselves.

Nobody else.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Yay~ Another random poem...>.>...Inspired by a friend of mine who seems to be extremely self-centered.

View thenarcissistdoll's Full Portfolio

I am...

A lover,
a dreamer,
a don't-stop-believer;
A helper,
a friend,
a firm outstretched hand.
I'm crazy-
But I'm loving the game.
Getting lost
in the day
going the right way;
With my feet
on the ground
I walk to my heart's sound.
I'm living
by dying
without even trying.
I have only
one fear,
yet shed many a tear.
But I'll keep
my heart true
and keep searching for you.

Author's Notes/Comments: 


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Soccer Baby


Purple Filled Dreams
with the golden heart
One who places others first
One who shines bright with music
Simplicity is the key to her heart
A simple Orchard upon her hands
makes her smile in every way.
Paws control her life
Paws upon her heart, her wrists, her touch
No angel wings
but brings life to others in need.

Not a perfect girl
never plans to be
can not cook
can not judge a book by it's cover
Always willing to learn
willing to compromise
willing to love or eternaty
not always as stubborn as her sign tends to say
Taurus after all are hopeless romantics
they keep their friends as close as possible
and their enemies closer,
but she, she keeps that open heart
on her sleeves.

Curly hair.
Dark Brown eyes.
Light skinned.
and compassionate.
Soccer Baby,
she is me.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Have you ever had to discribe yourself to people? I have and I can't ever do so, this is probably the 8th poem I write about me... is it me? Maybe, only those who truely know can tell me.

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