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Wednesday, 06 May 2009

Jaden.

Mallory Schooley
Jaden, her long skinny body sprawled out across her bed as if she hasn’t laid down for days. Her long pale legs crossed behind her. Her long brown hair is pulled back into a pony tail, her hazel eyes glued to the piece of paper, she writes.
She spills her thoughts on this piece of paper. The lead smudges against the bright white of the paper, pushing harder she tries to darken it as if the darkness really says something.
Her body language tenses as she gets more and more into the writing. The paper fills up with her own happiness. She stops.
The pencil shedding smear all over the paper and she folds the paper up slowly and puts it in her drawer. There lies the happiness that’s left unsaid. At least for now…

Tuesday, 24 February 2009

Dear Dad.

Dear Dad,
My whole life I wondered what it was like to have a father that was always there for me. I wanted to know what it was like to even have a sober father, who wasn’t so angry and unstable. I’ve always felt as if I were a big part of the reason of your bitterness. Seems as if your only happiness was alcohol, it makes me broken to see how messed up you really are. I know deep down you’re sorry for neglecting me and you try to make up for lost time with money. I don’t want that, I want affection. It really hurts me to see that you want to be some father to some strange girl. I’m here why can’t you be a father to me? Am I not good enough? You don’t know me or even understand me. The way I look, how I dress, the music I listen to, you claim is all for attention. When you told me that it hurt, a lot of things you say to me hurt. I’m too scared to even stand up for myself around you, because I’m so afraid of you. Everyone is. My mom always told me I don’t need a father to be alright in life but I do. Maybe that’s why I’m seventeen and look for a serious relationship with guys. I realize I am young but I want to know what it’s like to have a male figure love me. If you only chose your family over beer, I know everyone got hurt from this divorce but I got screwed over the most. My own mother agrees. I just hope you realize you’re missing out on knowing a pretty cool person and I’m sorry that there is some sort of wall up when it comes to loving me.
Love,
Mallory

Monday, 09 February 2009

You

You take me away from reality
Keeping me sane
Without you I fail as a person
I don’t want to feel this pain
Your keeping me from seeing what is gone
Something that means the world to me is gone
You’re the only thing that makes sense anymore
I don’t want to know what it’s like when you’re not around
I don’t want to know what it’s like to not hear a random story, when I ask you about one
I don’t want to know what it’s like to not hear your voice
You tell me “I love you” and I can’t help but smile
When you call me baby my heart freezes and it hard to breathe
I’m not ready to know what it’s like to not have you around
I do know what it’s like to cry as I write this poem
I do know what it’s like to miss you when you’re not even gone
I know what it’s like to miss saying I love you,
To miss asking you to tell me a story
Late night talks are now over
And I feel so lost.

Sunday, 08 February 2009

Childhood.

Growing up in the house I did, it was never easy. My father was abusive and an alcoholic. He was angry, he was never really loved as a child. My mother on the other hand, was into drugs and drinking at one point but she became sober and raised my sister and I. My mom could see through my dad and saw how broken he really is. He wasn't a horrible father but he could of done better.
My sister who is eight years older than I had more of a father then I did. I was born in the worst time of the marriage, well divorce. Although I was born during that time, he could of still been there a little more. Part of my life my dad found out he had another daughter or so he thought. A couple years ago they did a DNA test and it came out negative. So, I thought that was the last of the mysterious step sister I supposedly had.
Well today I found out that for some reason this lady( my "step sister") all the sudden wants my father to be her father because her mom is too big of a whore for her to know who her real father is. Well, my dad agrees to be. My fucking father agrees to be this 36 yr old ladys dad when he can't even father his own damn kids. If she ever wants me to tell her what my father is like, I will tell her the truth. My own father can't love me with out being drunk, how the hell is he going to love some random weird lady he doesn't even know.

Thursday, 05 February 2009

Confusion.

Self confidence is something I was never good at or even understood. I have a hard time taking my passion in poetry and turning it into something creative. I can get the words out but not exactly the passion behind the poetry. Lacking in liking my poetry or maybe even myself comes easy to me. Confusion holds me back, it holds the poet inside of me, that passionate girl that I only seem to be.
I get confused easily about what I am trying to say or how I am trying to even word it, even how I feel about it. I can be in a creative mood and when I get out a piece of paper and I start writing, I feel as if I all the sudden lost my passion for the poem that has been building up side of me. This problem has been following me around like a rain cloud since I was 12, when I was first getting into poetry.
This is how it started, I was starting to soon realize, I really didn't have a clue who I really was, and well I still dont really know. So now that I am a senior in high school and i've realized I won't go far in life with having no self confindence, I started to get to know myself.
Getting to know myself has actually shocked me, it made me laugh, made me want to get to know myself better. In doing so, I've realized more things, much deeper then what I wanted to go. I got to know the side of me that I was trying to hold back. I didn't want to know the truth, sadly its just a part of facing reality. I have become a little bit better but I still struggle. With my poetry and with myself, its hard knowing what you want, when you're to young to even realize why you want it.