Do you K N O W

 So I wrote this poem about an hour or so ago when my wifi was down and I was in an over thinking depressing mind set, I hope you like it or whichever :)up to you...

Do you K N O W

Do you know what it feels like,

To want to crawl out of your skin?

Do you know what it feels like,

To have so much to say but nowhere to begin?

Do you know what it feels like,

Living in a constant lie?

Do you know what it feels like,

To want to give up on life?

Do you know how it feels,

To just want to escape the world?

Do you know how it feels,

When your thoughts bleed in a whirl?

Do you know how it feels,

To be alone in a room full of familiar faces?

Do you know how it feels,

To remember the bad & the good's just empty spaces?

Do you know what it's like,

To be a constant disappointment?

Do you know what it's like,

To be the reason for another argument?

Do you know what it's like,

To be called insane by your own mother?

Do you know what it's like,

To be hated and despised by your brother?

Do you know the feeling,

Of being innocent but feeling guilty?

Do you know the feeling,

Knowing your path is clean, but think it's filthy?

Do you know the feeling,

Of bitter and harsh loneliness?

Do you know the feeling,

To think back of a time that had more bliss than this?

Can you understand,

Where I'm coming from?

Where I stand,

Being broken for so long?

Can you understand,

To always staying strong?

Refusing to give them the upper hand,

So you can prove them all wrong. 

 

-Saara

 

The Unicorn (Innocence Killed)

This is an old english essay (from 2011) I found on my laptop, thought I'd share the word limited twisted ish I come up with:

The Unicorn (Innocence Killed)

“Anna, darling, don’t stand in the car!” Anna Darling’s mother cried out while they were driving home from Anna’s ballet lesson. “Okay mommy, but look I’m a rocket ship!” 6-year old Anna replied to her mother. As her mother turned to see what Anna was on about a drunken driver came down the next road and crashed into the drivers’ side of their station wagon. A loud crunching, crash noise filled the entire area and the impact knocked the station wagon completely over. On-coming cars skidded to a halt, causing major traffic jams.
Anna had survived the crash and was searching around the car for her mother. She climbed out of the car, while she was holding her pink stuffed unicorn and still wearing her tutu, to see if she could get a better view of her mother. She peeped through the crashed driver’s side, but before she had seen anything the paramedics had arrived and moved aside to treat her and to get her mother out. She looked puzzled at the paramedics and asked, “Mr Doctor Sir, where’s my mommy?” The paramedic smiled at her and said, “They’re taking her out of the car now and are going to make sure she’s ok.” Anna smiled and said, “Okay… My unicorn is worried about mommy. I told Ms Fluffelby that mommy is going to be fine.” She looked over to her unicorn in her hands which were now stretched out and said, “Now, Ms Fluffelby I told you mommy is fine… You worry too much.” While she was lecturing her stuffed unicorn the paramedics had managed to get her mother out of her seat and onto a stretcher. They rushed to the ambulance. Once Anna had seen her mother she ran after the stretcher crying out, “Mommy! Mommy!” Her mother was unconscious and could not reply to comfort her daughter.
The ambulance rushed to the hospital and Anna followed closely behind them in a police car. At the hospital Anna sat alone with her unicorn and a police officer who was reading the newspaper. Anna with her big, round, searching eyes kept roaming around the waiting area familiarising and recognising each object in the quiet waiting room. She had no family other than her mother. Her father was estranged and it was only her and her mother. Her mother was a wealthy lawyer so they lived a decent life. Until now…
After the policeman had received word that Anna’s mother was in a coma, he decided to take Anna home to get changed and to play while the police station was working on who should look after Anna during her mother’s coma. After much deliberation Anna’s friendly next door neighbour, Mr Smith, volunteered to look after her for the while.
It had been settled, Anna would stay with Mr Smith until her mother wakes up. Anna knew Mr Smith for the entire 6 years of her life and trusted him as she would an uncle, therefore she settled quickly. She never had a doubt in her pure mind that her mother would wake up- soon. She woke up every morning eagerly asking if she was going to see ‘mommy’ today. Mr Smith told her ever so kindly that her mother was still asleep.
Mr Smith distracted her from thinking about her mother’s coma. He took her for ice-cream, movies and to a fair. He was gaining more and more of her unconditional trust. Once he had gained all of her trust- he crushed it. Mr Smith had a hidden agenda concerning young Anna…
The second step of his sadistic plot was to make her feel ‘loved’. One evening before she went to sleep he convinced her that it would be safer for him to sleep there with her. Being as young and naïve as Anna was she believed him. The first three nights he would just lay there with a smug look on his aged face. After that he started to get creative and said he needs to ‘fix’ her by touching her in unmentionable places. She went along with it, as she was unaware that it was wrong. Then he convinced her to touch him! Once he had gotten her used to the touching he started raping her. The neighbours started filing police reports about high pitched screams for help late at night emerging from Mr Smith’s house, but after one or two shouts it muffled away. He started to hit her unconscious so that she would not scream for help behind his back. While he was away he’d lock her up unconscious with her unicorn in a secret room in his home that was sound proof.
Eventually the police decided to question him about the complaints. He flatly denied any accusations and said it was the TV that was too loud or that Anna was having nightmares and called on him for help. The police accepted his claim of innocence, but still kept the case open. After Mr Smith was confronted about the complaints he was furious, so furious in fact that once he arrived home he smothered Anna’s face with a pillow and yelled, “There! Scream into this you ungrateful brat! I helped you Anna and you repay me by getting me almost arrested!” Once she had stopped struggling he came to the realisation that she was dead. He had suffocated little Anna Darling. He was scared and remarked to himself, planning a quick getaway, “Great! Now your death is on my hands too! I’ve got to get out of here! I’m going to Mississippi.” He left Anna in the corner of the room with her unicorn that she had treasured so dearly.
The police still regularly questioned the neighbours and they all claimed that it had been much quieter since Mr Smith left. The officers were baffled and decided to search his home. They kept looking until the one officer found a hidden door. Behind that door they found Anna lying, still grasping her unicorn. They buried her the next Saturday after they had done an autopsy and discovered that she had been raped. The officer, who was looking after her at the hospital the day of the accident, was holding her unicorn and found a zip at the back. He opened it and found a video camera inside. Her mother had installed it to always keep an eye on her. This is how they had captured Mr Smith- with the help of Ms Fluffelby.
(1079 words)

These C U R S E S

Here is another poem, I hope you will enjoy :) To read my story 'Alone In The Dark' you can go to Wattpad or Booksie (in 3 parts on booksie) - you know if you want

These C U R S E S

I've been cursed with memory.

Of a broken tragedy.

Without a remedy.

To bring me clarity.

I've been cursed with a heart.

That falls apart.

When shot with a dart.

Of love's twisted art.

I've been cursed with a soul.

That bleeds a gaping hole.

Where words echo.

Silence consumed whole.

I've been cursed with a mind.

The overthinking kind.

That remembers the line.

Of each shattered dime.

I've been cursed with a conscience.

A brittle insignificance.

Weakened independance.

For the social preference.    

I've been cursed with eyes.

Witnessed countless lies.

Scorned by broken ties.

Of my own demise.

I've been cursed with knowledge.

Of knowing my wreckage.

That I am the damage.

Consumed by my courage. 

 

-Saara

 

m a s k

 Here's a new poem I had stocked, it was incomplete and so I completed it here before publishing it. So enjoy :) btw my story (that I've been writing/ tweaking casually since 2009), Alone In The Dark, is on Wattpad and Booksie (it's in 3 parts on Booksie) so check em out if you're keen :)

m a s k

I was raised to be ashamed of my weaknesses.

To always wear a mask to hide my feelings.1

To "make my face right." and erase the emotion.

That dampened my cheeks with broken meanings.

I was raised under the idea that I'm abnormal.

That something is wrong with me because I'm sensitive.

That I'm psycotic for showing and voicing my hurt.

Because I shouldn't be so 'dramatic' and 'negative'.   

I was raised to believe that I'm not worthy of love.

Because I bruise emotionally easier and am easily hurt.

Because feelings are pathetic and worthless.

And should be swept away like dirt.

I was raised in a wonderful family by loving parents.

Who could never fully grasp or understand.

Just how one of their own offspring.

Could be so brittle & vulnerable to a demand. 

 

I was raised to contain my happiness.

As it is 'weird' to feel overjoyed.

This containing brought on overwhelming sadness.

And my emotions grew annoyed.

 

I became frustrated with bottling everything up.

I grew short tempered with people for not knowing.

How their actions and words made me feel.

This angst and unspoken frustration growing.

 

Then I was raised to believe I was rude.

For being too curt with people around me.

But it was all of the unsaid words.

Spiralling around my head uncrontrollably.

So the mask I wear just barely holds back.

The millions of unuttered words and emotions.

Drowning me in self confliction.

Due to my raising notions.

-Saara

 

T O R N V D O

ok last one for today, because it's almost midnight and I should probably get some sleep :] (YES, I replaced the A with a V for poetic license and visual choice)

T O R N V D O

Feels like I'm talking to a wall.

You shut me out & close the door.

& now I'm lost within the fall.

Nothing to catch me, but the cold hard floor.

Feels like I'm running in a loop.

& you're just watching, but your eyes aren't glued.

I am marching in my solitude.

Singing to you a lonely love tune.

This one sided love affair.

Is taking it's toll on my heart.

This push with no pull is not fair.

This love lie is falling apart.

I give my all into this.

Trying not to fumble, but I trip.

& you don't catch me with a kiss.

But let me fall & slip.

You flirt around with other girls.

I am the prisoner of your world.

Held captive in this constant whirl.

Swishing around in the chaos swirl. 

 

-Saara

 

S.A.D.I.S.T.I.C

Here's another poem;]

S.A.D.I.S.T.I.C

Oh you're just another statistic.

Consumed whole by this sadistic

World.

Oh you thought by acting plastic.

You'd be a real, authentic, classic

Girl.

Cross your legs & just be modest.

Don't be a slut, be an honest

Woman.

That drug, put it down, don't ingest it.

That drink is another suggested

Sin.

That coke don't sniff, stay sober.

It won't be long until it's over

With.  

Enough with that puff, it doesn't own you.

Say no. Don't cave. You will make it through

This.

Don't fall into this sick game.

Don't be another more of the same

Shame.

Don't crumble into the twisted crowd.

Stay tall don't fumble, stand your ground

& rein. 

 

-Saara

 

O v e r t h i n k i n g

and another short one

O v e r t h i n k i n g

I guess it wasn't meant to be.

I guess you weren't the one for me.

& now I'm sitting lost again.

I guess you're not my prince charming.

I never found my fantasy.

& now your face I'm trying to forget.

I guess I overthought it all.

My damned brittle heart just took the fall.

& now I gotta face the world again.

I was just too naive and now.

I guess I'm still stuck in the clouds.

Trying not to slip and fall in the pain.

I guess I should've seen the signs.

I've been here before so many times.

It probably has made me blind to this.

I guess I thought you were the one.

To fix my heart that's still broken.

But the words are still unspoken bliss. 

 

-Saara

 

Follow the Leader

here's just a short little rhyme for you guys:)

Follow the Leader

Follow the leader is what we're told.

Follow the leader till we're old.

Follow the leader to your doom.

But you won't know until you feel the gloom.

We follow the leader without a clue.

Whether it's right or wrong or what to do.

When all are one but they are not.

We still march on & never question the plot.

We tread along with the rope.

We go with the flow.

We never wander further than our nose.

Because on we march where the leader goes. 

 

-Saara

N | O | R | M

hey thought I'd upload a fewmore poems I had in my jar... (see what I did there.. with the jar.. and the name of the bl.. ok nevermind:)) anyway here's the 1st:

N | O | R | M

She wants to fit in.

So her downspiral begins.

She tastes the temptation.

It drags her inhibitions.

So she goes with the crowd.

Their music just a little too loud.

Grinding strangers in the scene.

Doing things that are unseen.

She drowns her foolish doubt.

That she should just run out.

With the poison that owns them.

The other fools she calls her friends.

She sips a little more.

Turns to her alter ego whore.

She takes the acid pill.

Against her conscience will.

She sniffs up the coke.

Her freedom and morals choke.

Caves in to the high.

Living a part of this lie.

She injects the heroine.

Unsaved from the addiction.

But at least she fits in.

To this trapped infliction. 

 

-Saara

 

HOPE

Hey,here's another poem for you lovely people :)

 

HOPE

 

She picks up the knife.

Had enough of this life.

Oppressed by the lie.

Of her struggles and strife.

He picks up the blade.

In a moment of rage.

Now the floor was his stage.

Where the truth had all laid.

She cries in the dark.

Cause her soul lost it's spark.

Seeks help from the stars.

But they're just too far.

He swallows the pill.

To get through his daily drill.

The doctors made him ill.

Now he's living up and downhills.

They lie to the world.

These boys and these girls.  

Spiralling in this swirl.

The twisted world's whirl.

She sips up some joy.

For a moment with a boy.

Who makes her feel coy.

Then treats her like a toy.

He sniffs up some hope.

That beyond this tight rope.

He's heart will no longer mope.

And he'll be able to cope.

They met once before.

Both at their lowest core.

Never noticed, just ignored.

Now they're lying cold on the floor. 

 

-Saara

 

E X P O S U R E

Hey guys to thank you getting me over 1000 blog views I decided to upload some new poems :) feel free to leave feedback and stay in school etc etc...
ok here it goes:

E X P O S U R E

Each smile becomes meaningless.

As I'm slowly running out of breath.

Each laugh becomes more forced.

Losing energy to take the next step.

Voices running through my mind,

Telling me I'm a hopeless mess.

I start to believe these things myself.

& staying strong is the hardest.

When all I want to do is give up,

Because that's what I'm known for.

It's what they all expect of me,

Just lose & incapable to achieve any more.

Because I'm crazy, or so I'm told.

I'm insane, unstable & irrational.

I'm "psychotic" my mother scolds.

This is all I've ever known.

I've grown up talented.

But belittled by my family.

I have endless possibilities.

But lack motivation to achieve.

Just because I'm wired a different way.

I'm not designed for their mold.

I'm abnormal and unusual.

A weirdo as I am told.

I'm not as precious a dime.

Or flawless as their first born.

I'll never be an angel as the last one.

I'm just a broken mess, completely torn.

I tried to reform myself.

To fit this mold they confine me in.

But I was never crafted to be boxed up.

I'm meant for more but I'm breaking.

These poems are the journals.

The diaries of my soul.

How much of these are true.

You will never know.

But this is my outlet.

My positive therapy.

To empty the bottled up angst.

In a form of clarity.

I don't know what I'd do.

If it weren't for art or poetry.

Or for that tiny spark of hope I hold.

That lights up my heart in it's purgatory. 

 

-Saara

 

on_the_B R I N K

Okay 8th and last one for today:)

on_the-B R I N K

I'm on the edge.
Staring down that ledge.
Remembering my pledge.
To forget the dread.
Trapped inside my head.
Sinking me down like lead.
But I'm still floating instead.
Trying to forget.

I'm about to lose control.
Slip down the cliff and fall.
Into a dark black hole.
So come and save my soul.
Before I start to lose it all.
My mind's about to close.
Break down my mental walls.
And my heart beat will stall.

I'm in fear of losing myself.
But I'm scared to ask for help.
My mind is filled with doubt.
That I won't find my way out.
So I don't scream or shout.
My cry is silent not loud.
My heart is dying in it's drought.
Lying on the cold hard ground.

I'm on the brink of insanity.
Tears are blurring my clarity.
I've had enough of reality.
Shifting into fantasy.
Where I shall reside for eternity.
To live forever happily.
Without the constant worry.
That I will lose my dignity.

-Saara

Plasticity V S Reality

and a 7th.............

Plasticity V S Reality

Oh the head rush is killing me.
Oh I'm choking up, I can't breathe.
Acid burnt my eyes, I can't see.
That all the things I want is not what I need.

Oh I'm falling far behind.
Oh I'm falling out of my mind.
I can now see that I've been blind.
To everyone in my life who's been kind.

Oh I've ignored my mistakes.
Despite they're in my head on replay.
Oh I try so hard everyday.
To please the world & be what they dictate.

I slip and I fall.
Now I'm crashing down from it all.
I tried to do so much & stand tall.
But I guessed I'm not made to play this role.

Oh this society drug infected my head.
For so long, my conscience is dead.
I moved so fast, on this high I sped.
& now I'm breaking instead.

I'm just a flawed creation.
I can't be this perfect vision.
Nobody is made for this insatiable generation.
Dictated by a sadistic nation, on a plastic notion.

-Saara

T I G H T | R O P E

and a 6th.....

T I G H T | R O P E

We walk a tight rope,
day after day.
We take the high road,
and just walk away.
We lose all our hope,
as our hearts decay.
We don't know how to cope,
with the constant pain.

We fall and they cheer,
at our dismay.
We crumble and we fear,
that we will break.
We die inside dear,
and never ever say.
Just how we feel,
about this role we play.

We burn our eyes out,
with salty tears.
We claw our minds out,
with wretched fears.
We drown in self doubt,
thrown at us over the years.
We scream and we shout,
but no one ever hears.

We rehearse our lines,
so that we fit in.
We rehearse the lies,
to join the machine.
We dry our eyes,
with normalcy.
We ignore our cries,
telling us to give in.

Will we make it?
I guess we'll have to see.
If we can fake it,
and just blend in.
To be another bullet,
in this messed up thing.
Will we be mended,
or turn away and flee?

They say life is a balance,
but what's the use?
When the balance's challenge,
is determined by you.
See this 'acceptance',
is misconstrued.
We all have opinions,
that doesn't make it true.

Who set these laws,
by which we must abide.
On what's our flaws,
that we should hide.
To be this norm,
and pulled by the tide.
These social wars,
are all based on the mind.

-Saara

Rehearsal.

and a fifth................

rehearsal.

This is my stage.
Where I confess my rage.
My mental and emotional cage.
Scribbled onto a page.

This is my set.
Where I portray my best.
& hide away the rest.
In efforts to pass this test.

This is my prop.
That dictates the start and stop.
That directs this written plot.
The pen that starts the dot.

This is my audience.
That soak up my ambience.
And absorb this pretense.
& consume it as confidence.

This is my play.
The act for each day.
Set to constantly stay,
Stuck on replay.

-Saara

i n _ S A N I T Y

and here's another........

i n _ S A N I T Y

It was a lie I didn't have to tell,
They were hypnotized without a spell.
The words encrypted in their brains,
That I'm fine, sane and feel no pain.
The rehearsed lines implanted within,
I needed not to repeat my sin.
The lie was the truth and the truth was unseen,
But before long my shame will screen.
To all of those brainwashed by me,
My fib, my tale and fantasy.
The headlines will all come clean,
That I live in insanity.
My heart and soul will flee,
Drenched in their impurities.
& I'll be standing in their place,
With sweaty palms and a pale face.
To voice the line once again,
& convince them all that I am sane.

-saara

        

Pure_Insecure

and number 3... like it or leave it:) up to you :D

PURE_insecure

I forget the words to say;
So instead I just run away.
Because it's easier than staying;
And having to open up to feelings.
Because I'm lost in this game;
Maybe it's because it always ends the same.
I never win, or I flee before I can;
Because I'm scared of what the future plans.
I'm terrified of myself and my actions;
Because I am not perfect, I'm a flawed creation.
What if I'm not good enough,
To earn yours or anyone else's love?
What if I can't meet your standards;
And I'm left alone, broken hearted.
Because I can't see me as being worthy;
Of being the reason someone is happy.
When I dissappoint myself;
Over and over, maybe I need help.
I don't see myself as easy to love;
Never have and that's because:
I know me and my issues;
And my flaws, insecurities and my truth.
And I can't let anyone else in;
Until I feel better in my own skin.
So please know it's not you it's me;
I just can't get pass my insecurities.
I don't expect you to stand and wait;
I wouldn't want to hold you back with my mistakes.
So feel free to move on ahead.
While I mend my image inside of my head...

-Saara

L o v e A d d i c t

here's another, I'll be posting a few- much like a deranged squirrel stocking nuts (mental nuts haha ok no.) and it's summer here not winter so maybe not that much like a squirrel... anyway hope you like it:)

L o v e A d d i c t 

I am losing grip again.
I need a fix to pretend.
That this could be real.
My intoxicated heart can't heal.

So I inject another dose.
To numb the pain away.
Cause my soul is but a ghost.
& I want love to stay.

So I swallow another pill.
For this hurt to be killed.
I'll take another shot.
I need to drown a lot.

Pass the bottle right here.
I'll down it all at once.
I drown away my tears.
For a couple of more months.

Inhale another puff.
Gain the intoxicated rush.
So I can stay up high.
Maybe this time it won't die.

How much longer will it last?
& How much more can I take?
Before I crash down fast.
& see the mistakes...

Infect my mind with hope.
Balancing high on a tight rope.
The rush consumes me whole.
& I'm lost in & out of control.

Escape reality.
Dwell in this infliction.
Don't want the clarity.
I can't cease my love addiction.

-Saara

Q U E E N | B

Hey poeteers, so it's been forever due to all the work I had this year starting varsity and all that adjustments, and lack of wifi access at home to post these, so now that those are somewhat ok I am here to deliver some of my poetic greatness ( ok maybe lameness) unto y'all :) hope you guys like it... (these poems have been stocking up)

QUEEN B


Honey, you're not even as deep as that puddle.
Do continue ranting about how your life's a struggle.
When starving kids are more grateful than you could ever be.
For the mere fact that there is air for them to breathe.
Yet you complain & cause a big scene.
About how other's should treat you like a queen.
Well maybe if you were noble & modest.
If you were trustworthy & honest.
Maybe then you'd soften your frown.
Perhaps then you'd earn a crown.

-Saara