Make it Yours

Captured by the security of authority

Unsure of the circumstances arising

Broken bones don’t make for mended hearts

Walking gracefully from place to place

Taking a little bit here, a little bit there

Making use of the things placed before me

But then I realize there is nothing to lose

Nothing to make it impossible

Only the confines I place there myself

The mind is a thing to think

A thing to think is a beautiful discovery

Discovery is the path to passion

Passion lends itself to love

The thoughts, discovery, passion, and love

Are the only tools you need

Unbind me from the grip of authority

Let me be here, learn here, create here

Let me make it mine

Let me make it Yours

 

 

That point in time

Its at that point in time that you realize

that even though your closet light burnt out

its going to be okay,

and even though you can’t take that extra weight off

it will be just fine.

Even though you keep biting your cheek on the inside

you will heal…. well…. eventually.

Even though you miss a face, a friend, a lover today

there is always that chance to reunite over time (be it in “other” places).

Even though you are crying tears on your pillow tonight;

even though your heart aches and your mind is hollow;

even though its almost as if there is no love left in the world;

those tears can turn to tears of joy in the morning,

your heart and mind can be complete and filled soon,

and the world can be a little bit brighter, if you create or look for it.

It’s at which point in time you realize this

and you have finally realized

just that.

 

~Miss Myké

Overwhelmed

Overwhelmed is when

I know exactly what is going on inside me

but have no idea what is going on around me.

It’s when I realize that it is true

that you will be by my side wherever I go

and I can call you even in the dead of night.

It’s when individuals can be so connected in their beings,

but so separated in their selves.

Overwhelmed is when

I feel like I understand more and more,

but know that I understand less and less.

It’s when I know that they will always be there

but I am still searching for the very thing

they are almost shoving through my door.

It’s when I stop and listen,

and think,

and feel,

exactly what I know I have been missing, 

but it has been there all along.

It’s when

I realize that even though I wished it were over,

and that it had never happend,

that was what I needed to get me through,

to make me see,

what was right in front of my face before.

Overwhelmed is when

I love you too.

 

By Your Side by Tenth Avenue North

 

Miss Myké

She’s just a normal girl who hates herself

This was inspired by a girl I know…

 

SHE’S JUST A NORMAL GIRL WHO HATES HERSELF

She woke up this morning afraid she was going to live.

Getting out of bed was a challenge enough,

and her parents expect her to act like a normal child.

 

She steps outside into the crisp morning air

covering all her scars, with a jacket and a smile.

Hoping that the world won’t be so cruel to her today.

 

Tears come to her eyes at any trigger,

running to the bathroom to find herself.

When will her mirror be reflective,

instead of a pseudo projected image?

 

Her mind still holding the hope that someday

everything might just turn out okay.

That all would rectify to what was before,

and she wouldn’t experience this pain anymore.

 

She feels like something is deeply wrong,

that something is broken inside,

at the very core of her being

and could never, ever, be fixed.

 

She is holding it in, all to herself.

Her porcelain face will shatter,

the world will see that she faces

being ripped apart every day.

 

She is desperate, willing to try anything

looking for love, drugs, suicide

to ease the ever present pain.

She feels like a walking corpse,

already dead to herself,

forced to function in the society we have built.

 

Like a watch that never worked,

its insides gutted, and strewn across the table,

as if the maker had no more patience to give it.

 

Worthless, dysfunctional, broken, fractured, alienated, abandoned,

her head is exploding from the weight of what she has contained.

Coming unglued, unraveling, and falling apart.

 

She is as fragile as a porcelain doll,

that has fallen and broken off her mommy’s knee.

As fragmented as a mirror,

that has been broken from hours of use.

And as heartbroken as a butterfly,

that has been trampled into the ground.

 

The guilt piles on her soul,

taking its toll on her, day by day.

Past insufficiencies, and questions,

will never leave her mind.

 

She stays up all night wondering. . .

if anyone knew how utterly and completely wrong it felt to be her,

would they just please give her permission to cease to exist?

 

 

Give her the love she never had.

She doesn’t have to live like this.

She doesn’t have to live like this.

She doesn’t have to live like this.

She doesn’t have to live like this.

She doesn’t have to live like this.

 

Hold her tight, hold her close,

Be the mommy or daddy that she never had.

Hold her gently, don’t make her crumble.

She doesn’t have to live like this.

She doesn’t have to live like this.

She doesn’t have to live like this.

She doesn’t have to live like this.

She doesn’t have to live like this. . .