Thinking On How Many People I Dislike and the Reasons Why

I feel like I have completely lost myself. I don't know who I am anymore. I am really the way I am described? I agree I am. But when did I become so angry, so filled with hate, so quick to blame, to be OK with manipulation. When did it become OK to judge so quickly? When did I loose sight of other human beings?

I think my mother is right. Its not depression or sadness or disappointment. Its a grown-up temper tantrum. I was a good child...why am I a bad adult?

I am utterly and completely heartbroken and embarrassed. And not over a boy. No boy can make me feel this way, only acting.

That Lovely Art

This time of year is dangerous. One becomes hopeful and nostalgic. The sunshine, wind, and approaching summer allow others to be weary as well.My eyes are open searching for the sun.

Most people spend their Easter Sundays learning about Jesus' resurrection. I spend mine learning to punch with my left....Oh what joys are to be found in acting. Can I go to hell for acting a sin?

Grey Poodle Black Hair

Im watching a poodle tempt fate.... he's shitting on a lawn by a busy road. Running freely. Sometimes I wonder if maybe Im not a poodle tempting fate. Running freely shitting on who I please because it means nothing to me. There are no immediate consequences....but I know one day I will want to cross the road.

Why did the poodle cross the road?

To Shit On the other side.

Do you still read this? every entery? Or have you grown smarter than to listen to this girl?

One Finger Hit Reverberates My Soul

One finger hits reverberates my soul
Another. Drops of condensation fall
each bead runs down my glass pulling its tole.
My one heart held in music’s artful all.

The rhythm ties, souls, beats binding out hearts.
Singing, begging me with loves empty case
tasting sweetened lyrics- glutenous arts.
Delicate song starts as engorging lace.

Strung, miscast upon you romantic rook.
Each note played for the tripartite:
you, me, and that guitar. Six strings create that look
six strings sink through my skin, soul- notes harsh bite.

Its not me you love- not three souls but two
the duo of love: that guitar and you.

ok so this is my first sonnet ever give it a break.