stuck in a whirlwind,
surrounded by chaos,
everything seems still
but my nerves still feel cut off,
from the light that surrounds me,
your love that's abounding,
but I'm still counting sheep-
I just want to sleep it off
I like kissing honeybees,
they're sweet and they sing to me,
one kiss and that's all I need-
there's pain and then they leave
make me into a pretty painted porcelain doll,
make me feel small so you can feel tall,
take my security and strip my identity-
maybe this is why I feel nothing at all.
I wish someone would see me,
and fit me in a painting,
I'd end up in a gallery-
I'd be a work of art
no one likes to feel lonely
or abandoned
or broken,
we all want to be cherished
and cared for
and loved,
in a sea of dead eyes,
I wonder why,
I haven't known anyone who's fully alive
trusting people is like an empty well,
people are always disappointing.
are they liars? I can never tell,
over and over again
but I still fall
I'll do whatever makes me feel better
turn the light on so I can see,
I'll burn myself up so I'm light as a feather
and I'll let my ashes float away
so that my mom doesn't have to clean
YOU ARE READING
The Road to Paradise
PoetryThis book has a bunch of poems that have bits and pieces of my life in them. I write whatever comes to mind, and it usually makes sense. But everything has a hidden meaning. Of course, some of it is random, but it all comes together (plus I like to...
