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Here We Go Again
It’s starting to sink in, that deep, terribly cold, empty feeling. Bright red all over; The sting of a bee. When did I ask for this? Shame comes with the pain. Plaster that smile on, and head out the door. It’s hard to ignore; Won’t stop knawing at you… but remember keep
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Reacquainted
Growing up comes with love and loss. It’s hard to control, and it is pure chaos. When we’re little we think everything goes by so slow. We just want to be older, we just want to grow. Then it happens, and there’s no turning back. It feels like you got hit in the face with
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The Art of Dance
Dancing is an art for the eyes, that pairs with music, an art for the ears. You can dance at celebrations or on stage; just start moving and forget all your fears. She dances on stage with the costumes, lights, choreography, and shoes. This is where she finds inspiration, and becomes her own muse. The
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Shameless Addiction
Music. Well there many different types, genres, styles, sounds. Pick your poison; your new fixation. It effects you in literally every way. Who says all drugs are bad? This addiction is as sweet as sugar. You’re mind opens, and thoughts race through. This is where you find yourself. You need a good cry? Listen. Having
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I don’t get this. At. All.
This is the slowest it’s ever gone for me, but it’s the farthest I’ve ever fallen. I’m trying to keep from stumbling, but I’m already headed down. I’m not the jealous type, but the world is getting me there. I don’t even know if I want this, but my heart’s giving me no choice. My
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The Dream That Didn’t Come True
Burning passion. Love the feel. What seems too great, is all so real. See the music. Embrace the night. Fly and dance, it all feels right. No worries or cares. So full of glee. Loving this place, and finally free. Soul mates connect. True love in bloom, but soon to meet impending doom. It’s all
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The Realization.
I HATE YOU! Go to hell, you asshole! How could you?! I never want to see your ugly face again! Don’t touch me! I don’t want to hear it! Erase my number! Leave! … Don’t go.. Answer my calls. Please talk to me… I miss your hugs… I need to see your beautiful face… Come back
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Poetry and Imagery – Fresh Rain
In my creative essay class we were told to write poems that were descriptive. Below is what I came up with. I asked my teacher to choose a title for it, and she liked “Fresh Rain.” The hot sun is beating down, But I don’t feel a thing. I look down at my hand, and
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I Know the Rain’s Secret
The rain falls, like tears from the sky; look up and ask the clouds why they cry. The earth is wet, all around there are puddles; Hiding under the brush are animals in huddles. Gloom overthrows with no sun in sight; Birds are forced to retire from flight. No one stays outdoors in the wet
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True Beauty
Beauty starts within, and it radiates through; Brightening the scene, and the ones who stand by you.
apoeticparadox 