My mind

 Pigs in trees

Flowers eating peas

Dragons fart honey

Trees grow on money

A dog with no head

A snail with 237 legs

Monkeys live on glue

And, just so you know this is what goes on in my head every day

I dont know.

 I don’t know.

I don’t know why I’m sad.

I don’t know why I’m happy.

I don’t know why I struggle to make friends.

I don’t know how I get so overwhelmed at the tiniest things.

I don’t know why people make me so anxious.

I don’t know why I’m writing this poem.

I don’t know why I made this blog.

I don’t know why I care about him so much.

I don’t know why he doesn’t care about me.

I don’t know why people think I’m weird.

I don’t know why I feel the way I do.

I don’t know why I’m like this.

But you either accept that.

Or get out of my way.

Me

 Everyone is brave and strong,

Everyone has a good friend,

My ‘friends’ are good at making arguments start,

But I don’t know how to make it end,

Everyone seems to be ok,

And just get on with their life,

I have three meltdowns a week.

And feel some kind of strife.

But they’re their own person.

And I am mine.

I know I’m clever, and funny, and kind.

I know who I am.

Who I’m meant to be.

I know who I am.

I’m just me.

Alone

Inside myself I feel alone,

When I open my door,

Nobody’s home.

My emptiness bites me,

As my emotions fight me,

Not taking notice of my dreams.

Dreams.

An illusion in my head,

Takes me away from the real world.

But inside myself I feel alone.

When I open my door,

There’s nobody home.

🖤

This is me- phenomenal woman

 Thank you to Maya Angelou for inspiring me to make my own edit of phenomenal woman.

R.I.P

This me,

Who I’m meant to be, 

A phenomenal woman,

Phenomenally.

I am my own person,

From my head to my toes,

Every day I evolve,

As my heart grows and grows.

I love everything about me,

The shape of my body,

The curl of my lips,

I don’t need  judgement,

Or popularity tips.

Because this is me.

Who I’m meant to be.

A phenomenal woman.

Phenomenally.

Phases

 Leaves are a phase of trees,

Sadness is a phase of happy,

Day is a phase of night,

Bravery is a phase of fright,

Hate is a phase of love,

Pigeon is a phase of dove,

No is a phase of yes,

Horrible is a phase of the best,

Friday is a phase of the week,

Cold is a phase of heat,

But death is a phase of life.

But death will never be the end.

The song of nature’s peace

 I hear the songs of the birds,

That echo from the mountain peaks,

They chant their melodies to the world,

Lullabying nature to sleep,

Their message is clear,

Their singing brings hope,

Their singing brings hope.

When rough times are here,

So is their song.