May 05

I wrote this the day before I ran away

I wish I could fly away

Hope for a better day

Feeling hated, unloved, ignored, and friendless

I remember the days when I was treated like a princess

It all happened too fast before I could have my fun

Crippled, traumatized, suicidal

Why am I the only one?

No one else knows how it feels

Because they cant walk in my shoes

They wouldnt last a day trying to survive and do what I do

But they dont think about it that way

Just go on with their perfect lives

Dont know how it feels to try and try and try then cry

I steadily asked why it happened to me

I was an innocent, young, sweet child

Why Lord? Why me?

June 05

I think by me running away, it was a good side to it. I met a really nice woman who found me walking and my dad realized I really did need therapy. I got what I needed for the time being.

A childhood of fun, a lifetime of pain

16 surgeries on the brain

feels like it happend before i learned to spell my name

before i jumped rope for heart, before i played hand games

Not "normal" enough to be human, not "stupid" enough to be retarded

at the age of 12 is when it all started

No bike riding for me, skating isnt my style

no P.E on my schedule, i cant run the mile

dreams of being a cheerleader, a model, a dancer

all down the drain after the horrific disaster

no car, no liscense, no job, no smile

what must i do to make life worthwhile

Lived through rape, surgeries, bad relationships, a stroke

i wonder why i still hold on to hope

but theres someone out there for me, my dreams i'll achieve

i might be famous one day, a star on the big screen

might be a doctor, a lawyer, i dont really like sports

a model? a dancer? no thats too much work

people think they know what i cant do, but i know what i can

im a strong black woman, i dont need no man

Im now 16, and ready for a change

so get ready for me, can is my new middle name

May 06

Frustrated while trying to concentrate on my algebra in 2nd period. Instead of taking notes, I had to write a poem.

The stress of achieving

my strive for independence

I long to rise of a spirit of transcendentalism

My heart sinks in my body exasperated for more blood

I try my hardest but my classes are weighing down on me

like a tree cutter on a bad day

Im trying my hardest, but its pulling me down

being a teenager

a black teenager

a black female teenager

a black female disabled teenager

Life is everything but simple

I think back to when I tried walking away from my problems

searched the busy roads for Easy St.

but there was no easy street

On the road less traveled, I found myself at a dead end

everything ends

when you're a mouse in a maze, where do you go?

search for a way out

an escape

Utopia

is what I long for

I feel like its time for me to write another. I just want to wait until I am happy. My happy poems are much better than the sad ones.