NaPoWriMo 2011 Day 4

-Nervous-

Anxiousness twisting
My stomach into tight knots
On a Monday night

NaPoWriMo 2011 Day 3

-The Maker Of Beauty-

I often wonder
If I am truly beautiful.
Is my soul
Appealing?
Or covered in superficianess,
And hate?

Who is the one,
To tell me if I'm beautiful?
Inside and out?
Who makes up the rules?
And why can't I just throw them out?

NaPoWriMo 2011 Day 2

-Afterwords-

I lay in my bed afterwords;
Muscles relaxed-
Head light and floaty-
Limbs sore-
Flesh tingling-

How am I not changed?
I thought for sure I'd be someone new.
Yet here I am afterwords-
Fundamentally the same;
The alterations too small to see

NaPoWriMo 2011 Day 1

-I Won't be Aprils Fool-

There are so many new choices
rushing up
from my submerged subconscious.

Struggling with my grip
on responsibility
and personal morals.

I'm weighted down with my wish
for you
to be truthful and understanding.

This may be April fools
but I
won't be the one to be laughed at.

Spring Cleaning

It's sad that I have to move on
Again.
This time I wanted it the least.

But the seasons are changing,
Frigid cold to damp,
And spring cleaning is coming up.

Someone else wants the space
The one that you're not using-
The space in my heart.

So I'm going to lease it out for a bit.
But it's still there,
If you ever come back.

The Room

There's so much space here now.
Blank walls;
Empty drawers;
Desk Space.

What am I going to do with it?
Use it to make Birthday Cards and Valentines-
For the ones who shut me out,
And leave the planning to me?

Curl up on that extra bed,
Waiting for messages that never come;
Doing homework;
Getting drunk and homesick.

The white walls taunt me.
"No new photos to pin on us?"
"No creativity to cover the canvas?"
Emptiness.

This big room.
Not enough of me to fill it.
Lock myself in
And sit alone.

Alone

Fuck you-
Inviting me in and then ignoring me.
Seducing me into a false sense of belonging
And then taking it away.
I can here you in the hall;
Voices drunk with inclusion.
Slowly seeping into my brain
And pulling at the nagging edges,
Proving that I don't belong