My Own Poems - Poems about My Own

My Own North Star

My Own North Star

A quiet hum, a gentle breeze,
No urgent calls, no need to please.
The world outside can spin and sway,
I find my peace in my own way.

No echoing steps upon the floor,
No voice to seek beyond my door.
Just silent thoughts, a mind at ease,
Unburdened by dependencies.

The path I walk, it's mine alone,
No guiding hand,

Back Home, My Own

Some said, ”Stay 'way from her,
that girl never brings no good.”
Some said, ”She’s just a prude,
don’t know a good time like she should.”
Some said, ”She’s much too loose,
she’d gonna leave you with a disease.”
Some said, ”She’s an ice-queen,
won’t commit, nothin’ but a tease.”

I find myself intrigued,
this girl that can’t fit in,
those walking contradictions
always make me

My Own Heart Is My Enemy

Each time I’ve loved, the wound ran deep,
A crimson truth I could not keep.
So now my heart, in self-defence,
Builds iron walls, immense, intense.
When someone stirs that fragile flame,
I whisper harshly, call my name,
And drag myself from passion’s shore,
To guard the ache I’ve felt before.
I scold the spark, I dim the light,
I shun the warmth, embrace

Anne Sexton, Why I took My Own Life

I wore my mind like a corset—tight, laced, unseen—
while the world asked me to smile with lipstick teeth
and stir the soup without stirring the storm inside.

There were mornings I woke as if embalmed,
already dressed in the hush of death's silk slip,
no reason, no riot—just a fog that would not lift.

The walls of my room pulsed

I Am The Blueprint of My Own Quiet Ruin

The door swells in its frame each winter,
paint curling like old tongues —
still you press it open with a finger,
leaving soft dents in the wood.

Inside, the walls hum from hidden wires;
plaster sighs under your barefoot weight.
Every step — a loosened nail,
a whisper of dust sliding down beams.

The windows breathe in drafts,
their single panes shivering;
no storm

IN MY OWN BACKYARD

IN MY OWN BACKYARD
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
climbing stairs or books
I travel from world to world
in my own backyard

Not My Own

I am not my own
Maybe I never was
But now I’m simply alone

I’m worthless
Hiding in my mind
With no one to impress
Why can’t I be mine?

No one close but evil eyes
Praying on my downfall
No matter what, they ignore my cries
Watching as I crumble

I Broke My Own Heart

Under my covers
We talked skin to skin
Shaking and trembling 
Wondering when to begin

With one little whisper 
And one little grin
I entered heaven
While knowing I sinned

I’m not sure about you
But my soul can’t pretend
What started at hello
For me never ends

All the words for your ears
Can only live in my pen
It’s the passion that’s lacking
It’s only calling

Piloting My Own Corpse

The world is quiet here
Yet growing louder by the day
Renting paradise from vultures
Split amongst two flavors of instability

I clamored and dreamed for that golden armor
That title that would cement my name in history
To be a "hero" to someone I'd lose contact with forever
Scars fade, and eternity is short

I saw my dreams given flesh
No gaps left

I own my own earth

I give, I strive,?
I bend, I buy,?
But I’m always the one?
Who’s hurt inside.

I listen, I care,?
I help repair,?
But I don’t often?
Get to share.

No one asks?
If I’m okay,?
They leave me alone
?To slowly decay.

But I want more—
?Where I’m not ignored.

I see the note on the wall
?I feel myself begin to fall

Am I not enough?
Am I not tough??
Is

my art is my own

polka dot peacock
kitty cat with blue daisies
my art is my own

MY OWN SHOE FIT

Life came in one shoe fit
Determined to live and not quit
Made the wrong choices
Managed to overtake and make right
Achieved of value in knowing how establish
No question needed with answer
Fighter of life with no surrender spirit
No need to say sorry
There is no worry
Some would say merit while others would say punk
Call it what you will
I understand

Choose me, when the silent storm of my own uncertainty

Choose me, when the silent storm of my own uncertainty
tears the seams of my being like lightning splitting the sky,
when my heart becomes a battlefield, and doubts
are invisible soldiers marching against the truth
you have always carried like an unwavering light.
Choose me, even when I break under the weight
of self-doubt, when my soul is a sculpture

The outside world makes me sick, suffocates me, dissolves my essence beneath my own skin

The outside world makes me sick, suffocates me, dissolves my essence beneath my own skin,
Home seems like a distant illusion, reality—a thin veil ready to tear,
I beg for other shells to cover my body, to hide my vulnerability,
Loose clothes, shining chains, quiet shoes—all to divert attention.
I try to hide the pain, to blur the days

Its my own fukcin fault

I blame it on life,

But really it's all on me.

You wouldn't believe the fu*cking mess I've made.

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