writing poems is pretentious they say,
did you know?

apparently I'm stuck up my own ***
if I don't

sorry you act to good to express how
you really feel

you think its 'gay' and 'pathetic'?
well okay

say what you want
I dont care

it makes me feel alive
do you like feeling dead?

it's like your thoughts come to life

and it feels so real

I feel sorry for you,
if you think you're too good to express

or maybe on the other end
you're just too insecure to address?

I flick trough the poems
that I've forgotten that I've written
and i read about,
how I feel tortured and belittled

A journey of three years
a very long time
that had flew in front of my eyes
and here I am now
wondering

where did the time go?

it saddens me to say
that I am no different
I wish I had progressed
but I guess it makes no difference

this proves to me though
that life indeed is so hard
because who would've known
that in such a long time
I would've made no progress

still the same
broken
shattered
saddened
anxious
sensitive
loving
lonely
sh­y
dreamer

person that I guess I still am

He told me to revisit my past
so ill try.

So little, so innocent,
playing in the snow,
at the age of 5,
its all I had to know

I liked this boy,
he had blonde hair
he was incredibly cute
and my heart warms
when I still remember his name

we flew out one summer
to an island far far away
to see my dad, because we missed him so so bad
cash flow was low, what did I know
so we had to stay
on the island far far away

thrown in the deep end
of a language I don't comprehend
in a pool full of people
that didn't understand who I am

they laughed and they mocked
because what do they know,
this little foreign girl
so pathetic, I know

I cried and I sat
in silence for long
its how I became the 'shy one'
I know

here I still sit,
writing in the now not so foreign tongue
in an island far far away
what could I have known

I sit here staring at my laptop
wondering why I can't write like I used to
and then I realise that my brain got so loud
that I'm lost for words

Lately find is so hard to find words
to describe anything
because I feel like
a lonely misunderstood cloud
of rain

I feel bad for the people that know me
I know its pathetic but its true
I can't seem to find myself for ages
I don't know if anything I say is true

I want to keep writing
I want to find myself
so maybe this will help me

Like I said
its been a while
a tough while
a very silent one

yet completely chaotic

you won't understand
nor will I understand
what happened to make
my future look like this

so lonely and bare
so bare and lonely
so silent yet loud
I stand on my own

barely grabbing on
to the little glimmer of hope
I stand low amongst
no one

been a lonely time
a tough time
a quiet time
and a loud time

no words could help me
no social distractions
so hard to hide from your feelings

when they look your right in the face

looking me so hard in the face

I can't seem to keep my eyes open,
they burn

little by little,
one second at a time
they open up slightly
but they didn't open in time

I still stand here
so low
and so alone
but thats okay

because I guess theres still hope