We all wish for another goodbye. Rest your soul, take me to the stars.

Another song without music. I really do like this one. I nearly forgot about it.

I wasn't ready to listen, but when I was, you were gone. Tell me your insecurities.

It's not hard to fall. Inspired by Tori Amos and Ani Difranco songs.

One of my first poems. Yay 8th grade! Won an award on the Soulstarz poetry community,

Too much winter + bad end to a good relationship = sad Lani poetry. But I kinda like this one.

Some people will do anything for pity. It's like a song! But without music!

Be my lover for the day. We'll have a blast. But let's not get attatched.

I was never as eloquent as you, and you always had more to say. Your story was always grander.

More seasonal depression. I'm a bit attached to the last lines of this one.

Elaborately phrased insomnia.

You non-conformists are all the same. Just play nicely.

The progression of a rainstorm and the people caught in it. Prose interspersed with haiku. Yay, verily.

It's short. It rhymes. And it has nothing to do with me. I'm quite fond of it.

Sympathy is your drug. Go ahead and overdose.

How could you steal the only thing I loved?

Have you forgotten me so quickly? Allow me to rant.

The gist of it is this: Life was kinda sucking for a while there, but then I fell in love. w00t!

Look at you, finally escaped from your angst. What about all those other wrist-cutters you left behind?

We're all looking up at the same stars. Inspired by "Somewhere Over The Rainbow". Sort of.

When winter really starts to wear on you, and spring is out of reach. More prose than poetry, really.

A short poem, in... some kind of form. I forget what it's called.

Look at all the pretty people.

Find beauty in strange places.

I tend to go into a state of semi-hibernation when winter rolls around.

Everyone's so angsty. Get over it. Adolescence isn't that bad. PG13 for language.

Another end-of-relationship poem, the end of it being my fault.

What is the appeal / of a red and jagged line / across your thin wrist? A longer poem composed of several haiku. PG-13 for "mature themes", as they say.

Sometimes I fall asleep here.

These strawberries have seen better days.

She writes poems for her lovers, for the world, for no one... and for herself. But not for me.