[x]

Does that make me Different?I wear make up. Does that make me fake?
I cry. Does that make me emo?
I have male friends. Does that make me slutty?
I smile a lot. Does that make me weird?
I laugh loud. Does that make me preppy?
I have anxiety. Does that make me a freak?
I have Bipolar Disorder. Does that make me abnormal?
I respect people. I change for me, and only me. I have a past, but I know I have a future.
Does that make me different?
Maybe.
But at least it makes me
Me.

FrostbiteNumbness
I can’t feel my toes and at first I think
It’s just my toes.
I can cover them up.
I can warm them.

It spreads, like fire,
Like ice.
I glance away for a second, it seems, and my feet are cold
Pat –pat
That’s funny, I didn’t feel that
Maybe I’ll cover them up too
I’ll warm them up.

I’ll take a nap
Maybe a short rest will make it all better, warm them
Up…
What’s that? How long has it been?
My legs… are you still mine..
Why has my breath left me, short?
Has everything but deserted me?

What about you, are you still here?
Are you still with me?
Hello?
And before I can say goodbye, I think my thoughts are leaving me too –

Sleeping Beautyshe’s in love with a character who
never existed but in the labyrinth of her head:
a patchwork composition of beautiful, lengthy words
she’d heard in her catatonic state; coma living
day in and day out, reliant on the salvation
of a man made of foreign wishing
and imperfection and necessity – an ignorance
of the less than ideal perception of self she’d
come to fear, absention stained romantic to the point
where daydreams were a standard for survival

(real living is for the purposeful of heart,
he loves her in her sleep)

UneditedWe cry.
We scream.
We fight for our dream.

We scream.
We cry.
We're just waiting to die.

The same emotions
with a different drive.
Sometimes dead, sometimes alive.

The same in one way,
different in another
brother and sister, sister and brother.

So close in feeling,
so different in the end.
Falling apart, or finally on the mend?

Which am I?
Will I ever know?
Fighting to stay or ready to go?

Maybe I'm both,
in some impossible way.
Emotions oddly mixed everyday.

Wouldn't surprise.
I'm such a freak.
Excuse me, I laugh, I should call it "unique"

Happily AloneHonesty,
She does not have,
Personalities,
She has many of them.

A million shields,
a million personalities,
She's always changing,
to fit every person around her.

If one were to ask why,
she would answer with,
I will never reveal my weaknesses,
because she's evil.

She hates everyone,
stupider than her is barely tolerable,
smarter than her is too scary,
She hates it all.

She leaves the world behind,
To one she has dreamt of,
No color,
nobody else.

Then,
she will smile,
why,
because she is truly happy alone.

She is not evil,
She does not hate you,
She is not dishonest,
She simply wants to be alone.

We are the King and Queen of Broken DreamsStanding still in a mine field, staring at all we have left.
We were so young, we didn’t stop to think.
Now we’re in a car crash, teetering on the brink.
If you were to leave me now, I don’t know what I’d do.

It was a whirl wind romance,
A light when all was black, a spark of something when all was bleak.
You swept me off my feet and made me feel brand new.
I thought we could live forever and I’m certain you did to.

We built a house without foundations
And now we’re falling down,
Everything’s crumbling around us, time slipping through out fingertips.
People used to walk past us but they were to drunk to see,
That our lives are coming apart around us, there is no light as far as we can see.

There was no fire to start with,
Just two broken things, the world had left behind.
The casualties of other people’s dreams of power, money and control,
Spat out onto the curb to rot away and die.
We never stood a chance or so

lifelinesI fear the sound of sparrows
and the density of leaves
against dew-muffled blades
of grass,

and I'm drowning
in the sky.

My skin has learned how
to peel itself off
without causing a commotion
in my marrows or
even show the slightest hint
of pain,
and my heart has learned how
to hush the stars in their wake
and keep it all a secret.

There's a sea in my mouth
and I can't swim.

There are lifelines
cast like these and it will
all end with the same tragedy.

wallflower clippingsthere's scar tissue in her throat,
swollen around the words she never said;
dark rings around her eyes
like planets unremembered, and
a staleness to her touch,
the crystalline Dead Sea.

she's living like a story
that's already been told
"if no one loved you
would you mean anything at all?"

in that moment,
we forget to exist.

of seafoam thronesFrom Atlas’ hands she wept to me,
atop Africas and South Atlantics;

this is one situation unaffected by
ember eyes and windy lashes
(it has no anatomy).

You are sparrows stranded
in tiny crevices and cliffside love,
though you rebuke flight
in the fear of chipping feathers.

So what do you do?

You reach for my soul,
coveting flight with shaking
dainty arms…

and perhaps I’ll let you:
With flytrap lips and
glass shaped hips…
you are unfit for anything but
sight.

(But beauty isn’t everything)

Falling off the EdgeDo you know what it feels like?
To nearly fall off the edge,
but not quite...
just so that you're dangling;
clinging for your worthless life
lest it fall into the sea of loneliness.
Your callused, pink fingers turning
to a shade of purplish-red of pain
as it does it best to hold on.

Splash.

In the sea of loneliness,
everything is crisp, translucent.
There is nothing around you,
you are alone...
unlike other people,
you have no one
clamouring to save you;
you have no one
diving in to get you out.

There is no point
screaming for help,
you will only waste
the little time and air you have left.
You only have the darkness
of the sea envelop

Honesty Written

from the

heart.

No eraser.

Her SideTomorrow she'll be gone,
but what can you say?
Nothing can help her.
The pain won't go away.

But she would've stopped,
you could've said no.
That's what she wanted,
someone to say don't go.

That someone wanted her,
or at least would try.
That someone would grieve
if she were to die.

But you just stared,
nodding your head,
and she realized the truth
with a feeling of dread.

No one wanted her.
No one cared.
Not even you,
with the the love you shared.

So she said good-bye,
and you watched her leave.
She may have had the rope,
but now you can't breathe.

PerfectEver had the feeling where you can't stop looking at a picture?
Your gorgeous face makes me smile
Go weak at the knees
Makes me giggle like a little girl

Those morning texts
All day conversations
Random silly things like that
Make me smile

I see the led light flash the colours I've set for when I get a message from you
My heart flutters
My cheeks flush
I go deaf to the world when I'm reading a message from you

If your down
I'm always there for you
I know you don't want to worry me
I know you want me to smile
But I'm always here for you
No matter how you feel
I'd prefer to help
Than for you to be down

Your gorgeous eyes
Are mesmerising
You

weight of the worldand suddenly--
it was like the world decided that
it didn't want to carry its burden any longer,
so it shifted the weight
into the hollows of my bones
and told me that
it was my problem now.

A Charmed LifeDoll-faced men and sinkholes, ancient tombstones
Leaves piled ankle-deep, falling down
Old wells, old graves, old friends lost
Pirate adventures in Neverland
Don't go into that barn

Ponchoboy and Rangergirl rise from the ashes
From the cold river, from afar
Remember before they were born, how they
Held hands and jumped into the world
Don't go into that school

Ladybugs, pennies, notes from the dead sun eclipse
Scrape the inside of your skull for clues
All the old dreams are still there, petrified
You are a rock of ages gibbering
Don't go into that factory

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More from *Shanster12

Crazy IV“It is a curious sensation: the sort of pain that goes mercifully beyond our powers of feeling. When your heart is broken, your boats are burned: nothing matters any more. It is the end of happiness and the beginning of peace.” ~George Bernard Shaw

++++++++++++++++++

“Where is he?!” Lisa demanded, but Bob only continued to smile and not say anything, watching the clock slowly, knowing that with each passing second, Bart Simpson was dying, and though this screwed up his plans so he would no longer be there to watch the boy die, still he was videotaping it and the fact that he was tormenting Lisa with the death of her

On My HandsBlood on both my hands
A knife in my right
Their lifeless wrist in my left
What have I done?
To have murdered a friend

Before Spirit DayI remember when I was a senior in high school
During my English class they gave out purple ribbons
In honor of the gays and lesbians who took their lives
Due to bullying and an intolerant community
The ribbons were only worn
For that one day of remembrance
But for me,
That ribbon did not leave my jacket
Until the next year
When I chose a new one

HamletThough the bare castle the ghost will roam
To tell such a foul tale to a mad son
Tell this tale and let the son ponder
Is he being tricked or should the deed be done
Should justice be swift as an axe to the neck?
Or slowly like poison, making its way to the heart
While an uncle schemes and a prince goes mad
A wife and mother to grieve and fear
Should such a foul tale?
Have such a foul ending?
Be it so, and for this tale to be told

A Poem for a ThiefThe moon hangs high in the air
The sour-faced guards do their duty
I stand high planning to take form their lair
I will make off with that high valued beauty

Silent as a cat I make my way through
I am nothing but a bump in the night
Wave a light and see nothing you fool

Security please, I cross every line
Taking yours, what now is mine

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Not Your Fault

by *Shanster12, Jun 16, 2012, 3:00:26 PM
Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

Momma, Poppa,
What happened was not your fault
Please don't blame yourself

It was my fault
I said the things I said
I did the things I did
I know you love me
Please stop crying

You loved me
And I hated you
I thought I knew best
I was wrong
You always knew best
My mistake was mine to make

Please stop blaming
Yourself or anyone else
The fault is mine
It's not your fault

That I died

Not Your Faultby *Shanster12

Literature / Poetry / Emotional / Free Verse

©2012-2013 *Shanster12

...

The Artist has requested Critique on this Artwork

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~NotenSMSK Jul 1, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Ignoring the fact that I wonder whether you are writing from heaven or hell (or your grave) (just a small joke lol) this is a nice poem since it is simple; has a nice flow. And the end has quite some impact.

so a nice job done!

Reply

*Shanster12 Jul 1, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Thanks, and I suppose when your dead it doesn't matter where you are, but again thank you

Reply

~NotenSMSK Jul 1, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Depends on your concept of death and you are welcome!

Reply

~charlycharly123 Jun 22, 2012 Hobbyist General Artist

Wow well that was unexpected..... but i love it xx

Reply

*Shanster12 Jun 22, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

I know it is, that's why it's separate from the others, but thank you

Reply

~XxZeldaMCRxX Jun 18, 2012 Hobbyist Digital Artist

This is wonderful. It was written wonderfully and the ending was amazing.

Reply

*Shanster12 Jun 18, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Thank you very much

Reply

~LightOverpowers58 Jun 18, 2012 Student Writer

I would say awesome....but that isn't exactly appropiate, now is it?....but uh nice piece of work, the twist at the end was well done and unexpected.

And you have unfortunately played the role of millions of youth around the world.....sad, no?

Reply

*Shanster12 Jun 18, 2012 Hobbyist Writer

Thank you, and it is sad, my heart goes out to those million youths out there.

Reply

~LightOverpowers58 Jun 19, 2012 Student Writer

No problem and yep....doesn't all of ours?

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