Everyone is so busy
Adults work 9 to 5
to 6, to 7
Sometimes even to 11
just so they don't have to come home
and deal with their problems.
By Elizabeth Biz Diedrick3 years ago in Poets
I am a sweet poison,
filling your head with whispered promises of tomorrow,
a drug that will lift you up when you are tumbling deep into the darkness of socially-induced comas.
It's cold outside
Let me wrap you up and keep you warm.
I offer safety
in a world full of instability.
I stay the same
I offer unchanging support
At some point we are all invited to the masquerade ball
We put on our intricate masks and prepare to have a good time
Let's forget who we are and play pretend for a while!
My sun's light is fading
I see the little beads of liquid reaching up from her skin
My sun was dying
she was a smothered glow alone in a corner
I get all A's
so I'm supposed to go to the best college to be a lawyer or a doctor
I'm quiet and I do my work
so I'm supposed to be a saint who's never faced temptation and mistakes
Love, infatuation, attraction
White knuckles grip on so hard, so desperately
begging them not to leave
There's a red crayon in her hand
and she's coloring
Each new line is a way for her to let go
The crayon is her portal to a world where she's in control
One of man's greatest desires.
A woman preaching for the right to vote.
A black man pleading for colored revolution.
You're a teacher
You don't need to degrade me in front of my peers to make yourself superior
I'm sorry but my respect for you is fading
I've heard too many people wish away their emotions
As if they were the cause of all their problems.
I've seen too many people wanting the torturous numbness I know too well.
I am not beautiful
I am not good enough
We've all thought that at some point.
I remember enough self-hate to make the devil blush