I've recently got to writing on a journal I bought long ago...somehow when I type the words don't come as easily compared to longhand. I've also been in a slump so I easily broke in about 5 or so poems--anyways, I thought that I'd post my best and somewhat most personal so far...although it doesn't seem like a poem. (Well I could be wrong about that...and I probably overdid on the bold text thing)

(btw, Paramore rules!)

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"Redemption"


Confrontations,
Something I cannot do.
With fear holding me back
a constant pressure on my shoulders--
a pain--
long past this time.

I lock the door,
close the windows--
and hide from this world.
A blanket, this pencil and my thoughts
unravel and flow
out like tears.

A small smile and a wave
a bow.
I constantly look down
only to realize a small, meager self
who easily blends and shrinks
among the scenery.

Hidden feelings,
a closed heart,
shadow corrupts the sky,
that once shone so clearly,
that once smiled...
begins to rain.

No sun, nor moon,
no stars
to light this path;
an already
overlooked path--
redemption.

Can the world be closed off
so easily? a life and this song
I cannot sing,
see,
hear,
breathe.

I suffocate
or do I drown?
No walls for protection
and I freeze.
Desperation causes me to
succumb to this life.

I want to change,
to remove this backdrop
of loneliness and
disparity--light
cannot shine unless
the clouds disperse.

I want to see the moon
and the stars
and the dark sky--
the ambiance of night--
to see the sun rise again
and the picturesque light.

My despair shall follow
like the shadow at my feet--
like the coming of afternoons
and evenings--
a consistent and eternal
shadow that I cannot escape from.

Smile,
be happy,
run fast and
feel free...
turn around,
and the shadow remains.

Reality may not be my best friend.
I want an escape--
a world I created
with these hands,
these tainted hands managed
to create something pure.

The air of innocence
the naivete' of pre-adolescence,
a child's world--
my escape.
A dream that seems too real
and yet false.

But should it matter?
This world exists for
forever
but would disappear in
the real world.
Can I sleep forever?

Material things
lose value as
this body grows and
the stars look less bright.
I hang my head low, my heart aching,
for this un-dirtied world.

Hopelness...
but happiness
as I hold this pencil,
as I continue forging
that so-called pure world--
my world.

How long must I hope
for a better reality?
How long will I continue
to hide
and always
seek for an exit?

I want a
change
in
life but I
don't want
to lose
my way.

Learn and
adapt.
Accept the fact
that these worlds cannot possibly
coexist? or
exist together?

A child's thought...
to have to choose between
two things
but desires both
...
to benefit from both.


Consequences
and
confrontations
go well
together
don't they?

I run from consequences,
I appease rather than
fight.
I can't fight back
for I lack the
power and strength.

I may devise
or think twice--
to find a way out of a
situation I'd
hate to be in.

The clouds close in.
The rain turns to
white--it snows.
Stuck in a rut once again,
my hands and lips turning blue...
and I am lost within the white.

Pure white...
am I undeserving?
This world I created backfires
so I reel back,
I cry as I blow
at the burns on my hands.

Stand up or you'll be
lost forever,
underneath everything
you created--
this voice I hear is faint
but the words are strong.

Did I not desire to
sleep forever?
Then why do I still
try to stand?
My eyes heavy and I
lost all feeling in these hands.

I suddenly desire
the acceptance of others,
to find that road...
the one that's mostly seen
when the time is 'too late'...
but I'll keep looking.

I will try to forge
my own path if I
cannot find it.
Seeing as I am now,
I probably have already
lost sight of it.


I will try to
depend less on others.
I will be
the driving force...
I will, I desire,
to succeed on my own terms.

Even if I cannot
see the stars anymore,
I will, instead,
forge my own
and follow the light it brings,
no matter how meager.

Even this pure world
is corrupt...
but with this newfound light
--I can rebuild it
as many times I want.
As I see fit.

I want to burn everything
and build
over the ashes;
the remnants of this past.
Like a phoenix,
I want to be reborn.