she’s a dancer
he’s a poet
she’s a lover
he’s a taker
she’s a professional
he’s a beginner
she’s passionate.
he fell in love
with money love.

she brings in thousands
he takes home a few dollars.
he loves a girl who only cares about love.
he cares about the money.
he’s a money lover.
she’s a real lover.
he’s using her
she’s unaware.

fragile is what i used to call myself.
i wasn’t to be played rough with.
my feelings and emotions
were too fragile for negativity.
the boys would tackle each other,
and i would watch them, not daring to join.
“Regan, you should play!”
“I’m too fragile to tackle.”

now i’ve noticed how tough i actually am.
my heart has been broken.
i’ve been called terrible things.
sometimes i wish i could punch something.
i’m not fragile, i’m strong.

I...am...NOT...fragile.

i knew a boy with brown hair
like flowing locks of a mare.
we talked and talked
i was the one he stalked.
we grew close
until we both became morose.
he changed his hair to black
and let my feelings crack.
he stole my joy,
and i let a boy
change me so much
by just a simple touch.
naive is what i was
and that is ‘cause
he changed
and deranged.
I was left alone
i even tried calling his phone,
but nothing would work.
he passed my gloomy face with a smirk.
now i know
to keep my feelings low
so a black haired boy
will not turn me into a toy.

who am i?
what am i going to spend my finite life?
what is going on!
what’s going to happen in 4, 30, or 50 years?

Cobalt, periwinkle, turquoise, baby.
Name a color and I have been it.
Some days it’s more pastel,
others’ it’s midnight.

Anything can be a lullaby,
if you try hard enough.
Ring around the Rosie,
is about death.

I hate reading
My old poetry,
Knowing how blue
I was.

I hate reading
My old poetry,
Because I knew
I was in a bad place.

I hate reading
My old poetry,
Because it shows
How lonely I am.

I hate reading
My old poetry,
Because it hurts
Me.

I hate reading
My old poetry,
For the pain
I was feeling.

I deal with
My old poetry,
Because now I’ve
Learned from it.

I have skin wrapped around me
Like a present.

I have a lonesome heart,
and I’m not afraid to admit it.
My friends think I’m boy-crazy.
But truth is, I’m just lonely.
Having a lonesome heart is miserable.
You feel empty and low
And once it feels complete
It’s broken again.
Nobody can love me,
And if they do,
I cannot accept it.
It feels unnatural
And strange,
Being sad, insane, and alone.

Be like
A mirror,
And reflect.

The end goal seems too far,
Without results.
The life you started is too far,
From what you want it to be.
The pain you have is too far,
To be fixed.
The broken heart is too far,
From being loved.
The aloneness is too far,
From losing the feeling.
The tears are too far,
From drying up.
The life you have is too far,
From being meaningful.

I feel as if I drive myself insane;
Not for a particular reason, that is.
Only a slightest clue remains—
I dislike what I do, but that’s not it.
Insanity is just a loss,
Losing what keeps us sane.
When common sense is just tossed.
It’s something that we have learned to tame.
By creating vices, habits, and by coping,
Insanity is brief, to those who hide—
It creates emotions, from smiling to moping,
But at least, I can say, I tried.
Sometimes, you have to fight your mind,
Just to relieve the insanity that lurks.

Too worked up over
The tiniest thing.
She laid her hand down
On my back,
To say everything will be okay.
She held me close,
While I bawled,
She didn’t judge me
For expressing emotion.
More people
Should accept
other’s emotions,
Because how would they know
What they’re going through.
The moral of this experience,
Is to accept the doubt.

I almost lost you,
I really could’ve too.
You wanted me to tell you,
Something I simply couldn’t do.
I hated how I let you,
Walk right over me,
That really hurt,
Can’t you see?
Threatening our friendship,
Over a petty little thing.
Trying to destroy me,
But you can’t,
You can’t hurt me.
You have already
Broken me enough,
But I’ll tell you,
I’m pretty tough.
You hit me, jabbed me,
Told me you could trust me.
Just because I didn’t tell you
What you simply couldn’t see?
I almost lost you,
And it would’ve been for the better,
Because you’re like,
A loose string on a sweater.
but what i’ve found out,
I really should’ve forgotten her.

A skipping child approached by an older woman,
This child was aware the woman had approached,
and ignored her.

“Now come here, honey”
The lady said shakingly.
The girl approached, kind of worried.

“I’m going to give you all of my knowledge”
The woman started,
“Of what I’ve learned in this world”

The girl sat down,
legs crossed, eyes wide and alert.

The woman began
“Sweetheart, cherish everything you have now,
And don’t forget to live”

The girl thought about what the woman had said, as she walked home that day.
“Live?” She thought,
“But I already am!”

As the girl grew older,
had her own experiences,
And children, she still kept thinking about what that woman said.

Now she’s the same age as the woman,
who she spoke to at such a young age.
She began to wonder “Have I lived?”
She thought about a deeper meaning
To in which living is.

“I have everything I’ve ever wanted” she stated,
“And nothing that I don’t”.

The next morning, the kids who lived in the home across the street, were out playing tag.
She approached them, and kindly stated
“Now I’m going to teach you everything I know” and she then said,
“Cherish everything you have now, and don’t forget to live”
just like the woman who she met many years ago.

This big world is pretty scary,
Being a young girl.
I’m pretty defenseless compared to
The monsters in this big world.
There’s disease, pain, and suffering,
In this big world.
My existence feels small,
And my problems feel microscopic.
Such a big world,
Will millions of other things.
But this big world is apart
Of an even bigger world,
Is it even that big, anyways?

A
Droplet
Falling from
Tired eyes when
Least expected, they
Appear like no other.
These tears are cold
And they pour out
Very slowly, but
Are the most
Painful.

Sadness is when you are up at 2 a.m.,
And you are greeted with loneliness.
Sadness is when it turns from
An emotion to a state of mind.
Sadness is a conqueror,
Of how you live and feel.
Sadness will bother you,
Until you don’t feel bothered anymore.
Sadness is a drug,
Once received, you are becoming it.
But, what is sadness?
What truly is it?

On the tip of your tongue
Forgetting or remembering
It’s just out of reach...

You’re the only one
To talk to me
Without thinking
I’m insane.

You’re the only one
Who listens
To what
I have to say.

You’re the only one
Who knows
My pain
Like I do.

You’re the only one
That I want
To spend my
Eternity with.

I like you a lot
Maybe even love.

© Regan

A young girl—
Out too late—
Running through a quiet urban city
searching for the sounds
That have been playing in her head

The radio gives her no help—
Those songs aren’t what she’s looking for
She craves and older more mature sound
The sound that only the dark night possesses

She can almost feel the sound,
It’s strength is almost feeding into her
She takes the bait
And makes her way to the old pub

She’s amazed by the Saxophone
And the blues lifting the air
She lets them fill her mind
And numb her surroundings

“Oh, sounds, why haven’t we met before?”
She cries out.
But the sounds keep playing
And drowning out her thoughts.
She now knows where she belongs.

© Regan

She took a step
And another
Watching birds soar above each other
Wondering why she cannot herself
She couldn’t understand why
She is unable to fly
She did some research and found out why
But gravity couldn’t tame her
She took a leap and there she went
Floating in the air
She was flying!
She was soaring!
Once you decide
Anything is possible
Go and get it
Go and fly.

I stood on the edge
Watching the water
As I was approached
By a family “friend”
He said
“Can’t you swim?”
I replied with
“No, I have never tried”
He grabbed my hair
And was about to
Push me in
And said
“Drown”

I fought the water
I fought for life
I would never let
That man be right
I flipped my legs
And swatted the water
Until drowning
Wasn’t the matter
The man looked at me
With disbelief
That a little girl
Could teach Herself
not to stand for
Death itself.

© Regan

I wake up
Just to go back to sleep

I eat
Just to eat again

I cry
Just to cry again

I shower
Just to shower again

These patterns,
Don’t make much sense,
If I’m just going to do it again.
I guess it’s just life,
A whole gigantic pattern,
Only to come to an end.

© Regan

I’m fascinated with your intoxication
You must really like this drink;
To let it steal away your paychecks,
Destroy your liver,
And your teeth.

You must really like this drink,
When you drink it,
You become it.
I don’t recognize you drunk.
Your mouth is ******,
And your head is gone

You must really like this drink
To let it change the way you think.
Let it consume who you are.
And those who love you, turned away.

© Regan

The burning sand sliding in between your toes.
The breeze making you feel weightless.
The salty-smell filling the air.
Seagulls flying above.
Once touching the refreshing sand in the ocean,
You’ve become it.

© Regan

When I was little,
I thought the world was on my side.
Now that I’m older, I’ve realized
It’s me against the world.
Society is going to try,
To tempt me, to hurt me, to destroy me.
And so far I’ve tried ignoring it.
But now, I know it’s out to get me.
As a child, the world would hold me close,
And told me it would keep me safe.

The world has opened my eyes,
Drowned me, and made me realize
I can only trust myself.
It’s alright, I’m okay.
Or I’m not, maybe I’m insane.
Maybe the world is just the world,
And I just can’t accept it.
Maybe I’m searching for a deeper meaning
To my pain.

© Regan

Nature is surprising.
Seeds turn to trees,
and that buzzing noise is a bee.

They all have a purpose.
Without rain there’s no flowers.
Without bees there’s no honey.
We thrive and survive off of nature,
Yet we destroy it.

It’s pretty amazing,
How it all works,
And most people don’t notice it.

© Regan

I thought we had something special the world couldn’t understand
I thought you loved my imperfections.
I thought I loved everything you are.

I guess the universe screws things up
Eventually.
I thought when you said you loved me
You meant it.
I thought a relationship consisted on loving each other.
I guess our relationship was one sided.

I did all I could.
It just couldn’t be saved.
I miss you infinitely,
But I cannot befriend you,
For the pain you’ve caused me.

© Regan

Can you fix me?
Why do I have these feelings
For something I can’t find in myself.
Am I truly broken?
Why do I feel like I’m running off of a battery that has run out of energy?
What am I missing?
My screws are unscrewed,
My bolts are missing.
I guess I am just broken.
And I don’t feel as if I have
Enough hope to keep going.
Maybe someone will find my missing bolts and give me new batteries.

© Regan

Fix this emotion
Many things cause this pain
It sneaks up on me.

© Regan

Four letters, many meanings.

What is it? I’m not sure.

Is it pain or something good?

Is it an emotion, action, or both?

How do we really know?

How does it make us feel?

Love, a word with many connotations.

But I don’t really know what it is yet.

I love my possessions, I love my family.

I am not quite sure, what it is exactly.

Maybe I’ll have to receive to understand.

© Regan

You took my shivering hands.
Led me to a dance floor crowded by couples,
Grabbed my waist,
I hooked myself around your neck.
As we swayed to the slow songs.
Smiles on our faces.

But then I remembered I was sitting alone
Drink in hand,
Swaying by myself.
Eyeing you from a-far.
I guess we can’t dance once again,
If we never did.

© Regan

Say I’m only yours
And please be honest, baby.
Don’t play with my heart.

© Regan

I’m tired of being alone,
Letting myself fall back into depression.
Sometimes I wish somebody
Would love me.

My family is great,
But they don’t realize my pain.
I wish somebody
Would miss me.

I feel sad.
I need someone to care,
Or pretend to, at least.
Please?

Maybe it’s a “phase”
Maybe one day I won’t be lonely.
That one day, someone, who cares,
Will be brave enough to hug me.

Could someone possibly tell me,
I’m all they’ve ever wanted?
Tell me I’m gorgeous,
And say I’m the only person,
Perfect enough for them?

Not now at least.
Probably never.
Could be close.
I’m not sure.

Maybe someone will adore me,
As much as I adore them.
Hopefully, they won’t have
To pretend.

© Regan

Play a song, guitar
Let me be the melody
And you’re the beat.

© Regan

Cold, salty droplets
They’re always showing up
I can’t control them.

© Regan

My heart is a bottom-less pit,
Waiting for a ladder.

My heart is burning,
From where you set me on fire.

My heart is depressed,
Longing for someone to love.

My heart is lonely,
Stuck in my lonesome body.

My heart is broken,
From the words you jabbed into it.

© Regan

Let my body drift,
Amongst the ice cold water,
Forget about me.

© Regan

Driving through an untouched place,
The modern era has kept it’s distance,
Mother-nature has taken over.

We arrive to a grassy area,
Only the trees to provide shade,
We strike a match.

We walk aware of the beauty around us,
We walk in an unmodernized place,
No shops, buildings, and factories.

The urban areas have purpose,
But sometimes, just sometimes,
Rural feels more like home.

© Regan

Picture me in a crowd, looking for you.
Picture me in a dress, sitting by you.
Picture me in the grass, holding hands with you.
Picture me in your arms, loving you.
Picture me shocked, looking at you.
Picture me sad, not because of you.
Picture me in a gown, marrying you.
Picture me yours, that’s all I want from you.

Picture you, loving me.
Picture you, holding me.
Picture you, with me.

Picture you without me,
Picture me without you.
Just picture me.

© Regan

Doctor! Doctor!
“Take one of these twice a day!”
They’ll stop your pain, they’ll make you feel normal.
Your sadness will go away.
These “Pills” don’t take away my sadness,
Is what you don’t understand, Doc.
These “Pills” replace my sadness temporarily,
With fake emotion.
These “Pills” are a joke to us struggling.
They don’t fix me, they pause my problem.

© Regan

I close my eyes,
I see a winter scene.
White flakes, rustic winter.
I reach out, looking for someone, as I am surrounded by nothing but myself.
The wind picks me up,
My head afloat.

I close my eyes,
And I have awoken.
Back into a reality I’m stuck in.
A lonely soul,
A cold, cold soul.

My frost bitten soul,
Leaves me cold.

© Regan

I’m sitting in my room.
Art supplies and paper scattered around.
I’m sitting next to my bed on the floor.
I’m writing this poem.
I’m crying.
I have pain that isn’t physical.
I have pain that hurts my brain and head.
At the end of the day, at currently 12:27,
I sit here, completely drained of energy.
My tears are too heavy to help me up,
My floor catches my tears as they fall,
My walls watching me.
My knees are up against my chest,
My arms rapped around myself.
My body is cold,
And I’m shivering.
I’m having a panic attack.
What do I do now?
I don’t want to move.
I can’t force myself up.
I’m stuck,
Weighed down by these extremely heavy tears.

© Regan

I have bruises,
From my stupidity.

I have cuts,
From my pain.

I have scars,
From my past.

But I still get up every day,
Just like you.

Your unexposed skin,
Has no match for what mine has seen.

My skin, not only has had battles with others,
But myself.

Your skin is clean,
Fresh and innocent.

My skin is scarred,
From my own hands.

© Regan