A Quote From Ernest Hemingway

"There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed."- Ernest Hemingway

Thursday, January 29, 2015

Utter Hatred

I hate any inside joke that was shared
Any humor that we found mutual enjoyment of
I hate knowing that you used to be the person I would first go to with a new joke
I hate that you didn't appreciate it enough

I hate any crevice of me that I let you see
Whether it was physical or emotional, I regret the action all the same
I hate believing that you thought I was beautiful and that you loved me
I hate that you never appreciated me enough

I hate that you used to claim not imaging your life without me
And now, less than a year later, you are in love with another girl
I hate realizing that you will use her in the same ways you used me
I hate that you'll never appreciate her enough

Monday, December 8, 2014

This "Self-Defence" Shouldn't Be Justified

Another shooting
Another "accident"

How many members of our youth are going to be murdered before something is done about our legal system?

Since when are police officers allowed to murder children on the basis of race?

"He, uh, looked at me, so i naturally, needed to shoot him. It was self defence"

Explain to me how shooting a child seventeen times is still "self defence"

Our legal system is racist
And our youth lives in fear
Cannot go to a convenience store without the terror of losing your life

Please, please
They don't mean any harm

They have friends and family too

And some just want to get an Arizona sweet tea or a sandwich
Without being shot by some racist, white, bastard


And maybe this poem doesn't express how angry I truly am
But I'm pissed
There is no reason why America's black youth should have to be afraid to go to a fucking convenience store
White children aren't
Then again, white men are the bringer of evil

Friday, November 14, 2014

We Kissed a lot and I Thought You Loved Me but I Don't Really Think So Much Anymore Anyway Here's a Poem for You About How Things Have Changed

Heaven is a place on earth with you

It is
It really is

And when we spent a night together talking about our pasts and how much we missed each other and kissing the most unbelievably wonderful kisses
I knew I loved you

A true, whole-hearted love

I love you
I really do

But when we returned to our normal routines
You showed a side full of insincerity
You didn't tell me you loved me like you did that night

I don't believe you love me back
I really don't

And while heaven is still a place on earth
It can't always be with you

Because most nights you made me cry
You really did

And a love shouldn't cry from sorrow

It really shouldn't

Friday, November 7, 2014

I Haven't Been Able to Title My Poems Since I Met You

I remember seeing you in the hallways and wishing to only be friends with you
Never did I imagine that I'd hold you in my arms and kiss your lips and call you mine
Only to have you leave my life as quickly as you had become a part of it
And I was the one that asked you to go

On the first day of gym class the teacher called me "Sheila" instead of Sarah
And from across the room you laughed
Even though we hadn't spoken to each other all summer
And for some reason that moment triggered a feeling inside of me to talk to you
But I didn't

Later that day my friend was worried about her crush texting first
"If he texts first, that means he likes you," I assured her

And as I was waiting for the days to pass
You text me first
"Hey, do you still have my school i.d. from last year?"
"No, sorry."

I threw it out a week after we broke up. I couldn't stand having your picture on my dresser any longer.

But for some reason you didn't mind, and you continued to message me
For hours
And hours
And hours

I got few hours of sleep that night, because I had spent most of it rekindling a spark I once had with you

But I need to remind myself of how much you wanted to violate my sexuality 
Because you thought I was so beautiful
And you pleaded that couples always did that

But I didn't want to give you my body just because you asked for it

I need to remind myself that even at 3 a.m. when I was in tears from a panic attack
You did the most cliché, straight, white boy thing and asked what would happen if you were there.

I don't miss being exploited like that

I miss having someone to kiss goodbye each afternoon
And someone to hold my hand when I was feeling lonely
And someone to constantly remind me that I am loved

And as much as I miss holding you and kissing your lips and calling you mine
I don't miss the daily arguments I had with my mother because of you
I don't miss how uncomfortable I felt every time you pleaded for me to please you
I don't miss the pain that it was to love you

And now, that we've rekindled and fallen in love again
You keep making me feel worse and worse

And even before I loved you
People warned me that you were an asshole

I never wanted to believe them
But now I see that they were right
You really are a fucking asshole

Wednesday, November 5, 2014

Bad Things/Good People

Why do bad things happen to good people
And vise versa

I never understood
Why good people
Deserved such pain in their lives

Was it to distinguish the good from the bad?
Was it to allow them to realise how cold and cruel the world really is?
Was it to test their faith in a god?
Or was it simply
To teach a life lesson?

Monday, November 3, 2014

Not a Word

"You won't tell anyone, will you?"

Of course I won't, silly girl
I'm here to help you
Not hurt you
After all, I'm on the same road to recovery, too

Friday, October 31, 2014

Trash (A Haiku)

Trash trash trash trash trash
I am very stupid trash
Trash trash trash trash trash