Here are a couple of my poems. They're not my best ones but I still like them. I'm open to all comments. Most of my poems are based on experiences and have hidden meanings. Whenever you see the word THEY in my poem it is normally talking about society, those who judge you, social status, ect.

Always

They're always watching.
I feel their gaze
on the back of my head.
I do not think they are of the living,
but I know they're not dead.

Hide me from that cold, cruel gaze.
Don't let them see me.
I'm running in a never-ending
maze.
The moon's now blood.
I'm drowning in a crimson sea.

They're always searching.
Why won't they go?
They're always searching.
No more hiding places.
Constantly they seek
to grasp what is mine.

Shield me from their restless powers.
Dont let them find me.
Pain is spreading
through my chest.
My heart rests in thier palms.
I feel it breaking.

They always know.

-This was when I was trying to leave a group of bad friends and how it was hard to leave without being outcasted.


Cut

Should I do this?
Do it they say?
My path is shadowed.
I'm loosing the way.

The blade is closer.
A cut is all it takes.
They press the steel
closer to my arm;
I just want to wake.

The cut hurts but
it proves I can feel.
Blood is seeping
out.
This scar won't
heal.

The voices are stronger.
Stronger...
The pain is addicting.
I won't let it end.
So I cut myself-

Again and Again and Again...

-This was written after my first Cut experience two years ago.


Pathalogical Liar

Knights in shining armor;
clouds of rainbow color;
unicorn and dwarves;
magic and elves.
All are fantasy.

So tell me, friend,
how is it among these
things you conspire?

My Pathalogical Liar,
what tales shall you weave next?
All of this is illusion for them,
but reality for you.

Dark clouds are rolling in.
Your dream is now
your nightmare.
You're slipping from control.

Monsters in the closets...
the boogey-man under the bed...
and the ever watchful demon eyes.

My Pathalogical Liar,
you've gotten yourself in far too deep.
You're drowning in your
tales of make believe.
It is far too late to save you.
And I couldn't if I tried.

For I am you
and you are me.
So my Pathalogical Liar
is:

I.

This is basically what happened to me in creative words when I was diagnosed as a Pathalogical Liar; someone who looses touch with reality and believes in falses worlds, fantasy, ect.


Twisted Alice

Down cast eyes?
You've been rejected.

Just one more scar
to carry on.
Decaying flesh-
let it rot.

Never forget
the grin of the
chesire cat.

They're laughing again.
What will make them stop?
Maybe a gunshot
will end the Mad Hatter's
game?

Bang! Bang!

Goodbye the Queen of Broken Hearts.

I'm floating like an angel.
Such tranquility...
Now I can sleep,
until the flames
consume me.

-This is dedicated to my friend Britney who was an outcast to everyone and had very few friends. She took a lot of drugs that made her see things and eventually shot and killed herself after telling a few of us that she loved us.


My mind's End

Touch the thorns.

Firey passion
burning my shadowed eyes.

Smell the decaying corpse.
Watch the crimson blood drop.
Drip.Drip.Drip. DRIP.

No where to run.
Within tears rest
mountains of
crystalized hate.

One petal less.
Good!
Let them all fall!

Smile!
They're always
watching!

A sun w/o warmth...
A moon w/o light...
A earth w/o life...
A angel w/o wings...

All leads to
the end
of the brightest
part of my min.
I see nothing-
but darkness now.

-About how many of us smile when things are killing us inside just to please and be accepted.


If Only

My heart is cracking
because of it.
If only I had
knew then to
keep it locked away.

-Dedicated to all those who had their heart broken


Take My Hands

I saw you fall and start to cry...
take my hands and hold your head up high.

Saw you dropping from the sky...
take my hands and I'll teach you to fly.

Saw you loosing by and by...
take my hands and I'll help you try.

Saw you drifting with breath's last sigh...
Take my hands and I wont let you die...

-This is for those who helped pull me out of depression



If You Believe

Silent encouragement
to see beyond seeing...
trees sway...
wind howling...
Look beyond meaning's meaning...
If you believe.
Find your eye within the eye...
voices slurred messily
hear your voice inside the voice...
If only you believe.

Open the Curtains (Short Version)

Open the curtains
to the Dark Circus
where blood drips
from the lips
of clowms and ghostly maidens
walking tightropes
to the end and jumping
in a pale of void