Anger
I let myself be angry,
For once I let the storm inside me swell,
Gave into the crashing waves of anger and hurt,
For who can control the sea?
Instead of fighting the currant,
I became the raging waters of my mind,
No more holding on,
I let fury engulf me,
But I did not drown.
I let it storm and when the waves had crashed,
When the thunder had rumbled,
The storm lingered not,
Clouds clearing to peaceful skies,
Blue calm,
Not a wisp of resentment floating there,
For the storm had been released,
I had found peace in myself,
Clear sailing from here on out.

Phone Number
Dizzy and breathless,
My mind seems to have been left,
Still dancing in the middle of the floor,
While I'm left helpless,
Clueless.
He's slightly obnoxious
And oh not very attractive,
I feel awfully shallow now,
And like a complete idiot for giving him my number.
A bad dancer,
Socially awkward,
Maybe pity took over,
Or maybe I just don't know how to say:
No.

True Colors
Do you see me differently,
Now that I've shown you a new piece,
Of the colorful art display,
That is my mind?

Science (a collaboration piece written in response to a poem about Fate)
You may be fate, but I am science,
A force known for its reliance,
Do what you may, do what you might,
I know for a fact fate is not light,
It is not the sun or the moon,
It's not even death that consumes.
If you want power, look to the sky,
There is not a star or planet that I,
have not studied or figured.
Love? Death? Birth? War?
Bah! Explained in a second, no more.
You may think you rule the human race,
But I can assure you without a trace,
of sarcasm that you hold no weight,
You are merely legend, nothing great.
I live on as proven fact,
In every floating atom, in every human act.
Psychology, biology, chemistry,
My greatness is laid out across history.
You speak of love like that is "fate,"
That is nothing more than one finding a mate,
Our brains and bodies were built for survival,
Truly, with logic my sword, I have no rival.

Jealousy
Darling, I may smile,
And say I'm happy,
But honestly?
Green jealousy boils up inside,
Not because I miss you,
But because I miss being somebodies.
It's childish,
True,
It's absolutely stupid,
I know.

Pain is the Price
Some days it's just too beautiful,
Others I feel are confusing,
Somedays life seems bountiful,
Others I question: why?
Why do we toil,
We all die in the end?
It is not till these moments,
These gorgeous,
Breathtaking moments,
That I realize that the pain is the price,
For beauty and love,
And life,
Beautiful, loving life,
Is worth all the hardships along the way.

Memories
I thought I was over you,
So why do these memories keep coming up,
Swimming to the surface of my brain,
And playing out like a scene from a movie.
Shoving them aside,
I try to focus,
Try to push past these ghosts of what was,
Recalled by the randomest of observations.
Will it be like this always?

Self-doubt
I wonder
Looking at my hands
Past actions etched into my thumb print
If I even am good
Am I
Each day I stumble
Tripping on new knowledge of me
As I turn
From butterfly
To stinging wasp
Am I becoming what I hate
Has bitterness found shelter in my heart
And do I harm all around me
No longer
Can I trust the words
That escape from my mouth
Frightened
Terrified that I'll just say something
Say another something
That'll turn the ones I love against me
Who'll certainly hold me accountable
For their own offenses
When I merely commented
On myself
Am I a terrible person
For the selfishness I know I bare
I know it's there
Embracing it self consciously
I just care
I realize now I care too much
About what others think
And how they feel about me
Maybe I should just
Let go.

Poetry
I think somedays,
That pain is simply something which,
We have, as a whole, created,
For the soul purpose,
Of writing poetry.