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Best Poems Written by Destinee Tucker

Below are the all-time best Destinee Tucker poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Destinee Tucker Poem

Paint

The other night
I decided to paint.
I picked up the brush
and placed it on the canvas.
I closed my eyes
and took a deep breath.
I made a stroke,
very faint. 
I opened my eyes
and they grew bright.
Something inside me broke
as I released my pain.
To think about this,
How it started.
Who knew their words
would spark something
this beautiful?
I fell asleep,
woke up
went to school.
I dare not show anyone,
I know what would happen
I know they would be scared.
I went home not telling anyone
That I wanted more art.
Darker and darker colors,
harder and harder strokes.

It's been four nights straight.
It's not perfect yet, 
but soon,
my masterpiece will be done.
Then, maybe they'll miss me.

Details | Destinee Tucker Poem

Insecure

I hate looking down,
I don’t like looking in mirrors.
When I see my body
I start to frown.
These things on my chest,
Unwanted
I’ve become less accepting
Of myself.
Days go by,
And I start to hate the rest.
Hips, legs, thighs.
All too feminine. 
Now there’s only two things I enjoy;
My hair and my eyes.
Looking at myself,
I want to die.
I hold it inside,
Getting sadder each day.
A cut here,
Tell no one.
Another cut there,
Still nothing to say.
Insecure,
Hating the body I was born into.
I hate the fat,
I hate my chest.
I hate my face,
 I hate what’s not there.
I hide myself in my clothes,
All too big.
Just like me. 
I try to avoid the stare 
They all throw at me. 
I hate how I look,
I hate how I walk. 
It’s all too girly.
I want to be confident.
But….
I hate how I sound
When I talk. 
I hate who I’m supposed to be.
I’m too insecure…
Insecure…
I don’t want to be a girl…

Details | Destinee Tucker Poem

Forbidden Love

I look in her eyes,
And I wonder.
What does she see in me?
Panic floods my brain. 
We shouldn’t be doing this. 
I blush dark red as she touches my hand,
While I’m knee-deep in thought. 
Thought about our future,
Thought about our marriage. 
Thought about our kids.
Will we be accepted when they’re older?
Old enough to understand,
Not everyone has two mothers. 
Will we finally be acceptable?
Or will they shame us,
Like they did in high-school.
Write on our lockers,
“Bull-dyke”

I didn’t ask to be this way,
But I accept it. 
I was born gay,
I didn’t learn this. 
She didn’t know she was gay.
She thought it was a phase, 
So she tried to kill herself.
I was the only one in the hospital,
Right beside her.
That’s when she realized.
That’s when she knew she loved me. 

But we can’t show our love.
Not just yet.
Soon enough,
When we can finally get married.

Details | Destinee Tucker Poem

My Baby Brother

My baby brother,
it's been years.
I miss you,
momma misses you.
Gramma misses you.
My baby brother,
we want you here.

My baby brother,
since you left,
Nikka and momma?
They don't get along. 
Jess?
She moved away. 
The memory of you
is too strong. 
Me? 
I've become a mess. 

My baby brother,
taken away so young, 
only five years old. 
My bluejay, 
forever young. 

My baby brother, 
we barely saw each other,
but I still miss you.

My baby brother,
please tell me this is just a dream.
Wake me up, 
tell me that you miss me. 
I want to hear your voice one more time.
 
My baby brother, 
taken away for good.

Details | Destinee Tucker Poem

I Don'T Understand

I don't understand what you see.
I'm nothing special.
I'm awkward,
chubby,
paranoid.
What do you see in me,
that makes you smile?
Why do you waste your time
on someone like me?
I'm so clingy
and I can't help it. 
Why do you claim to love me,
when it's hard for me to love myself?
I'm a wreck and I can't see why
you're still here..
Why can't you be like everyone else
and just realize how screwed up I am.
I complain,
I cry.
You hold me near
and tell me I'll be okay
but I still don't see how..
How can anyone love someone
as I?
A girl who's emotionally destroyed,
a girl who's emotionally unstable.
A girl who wants to die. 
I'll never understand
why you're still here...

Details | Destinee Tucker Poem

Call Me Alex

She looks in the mirror,
ungrateful of what she sees:
full hips,
decent chest,
curves in all the right places.
Long beautiful hair,
bright blue eyes.
A feminine face,
feminine all the rest. 
A frown on her lips,
mind full of thoughts. 
"What would it be like,
to swap places?"
She grabs a scissors,
and puts her hair up.
Closes her eyes,
and snip.
The ponytail falls to her feet.
She uses tape to bind her chest,
and throws on loose jeans.
Baggy shirt,
short hair covering her face.
A smile sneaks up,
and she goes to her drawer.
She grabs her makeup,
nail polish,
everything girly,
and throws it away.
She looks around, 
and writes a tiny 'he' on his wrist.
And with a smile,
says, "Call me Alex."

Details | Destinee Tucker Poem

Seven Years

It’s been a while. 
Seven years, to be exact. 
It feels like it was only last week. 
I miss you,
And I always feel like you’ll be back.
I feel like it’s just a trip away,
And you’ll open the door.
I feel like it’s just a game of hide and seek, 
And you’re just really good at hiding.
You’ll pop out of the trunk and say, 
“Surprise sissy!
Did you miss me?”
And I would hug you
And tell you that I couldn’t find you.
But… 
We couldn’t find you in time. 
We were too late.
How did you even get in the trunk??
It wouldn’t open from the inside.
You were stuck.
What were we supposed to do,
Alaster? 
You would be thirteen by now.
You were so young.
It should have been me,
I’m eighteen.
You had a promising life!
I’m going nowhere.
I’m torn without you,
Brother. 

I remember one day,
It was really hot out.
We were playing video games inside,
While sucking on popsicles. 
I went to get a second one,
And there was only one left. 
I tried giving it to you,
But you didn’t take it.
“It’s okay sissy.
I had enough.
I mean,
I already had the whole box.” 
And we put down the controller,
And walked to the park. 
It’s been seven years.
When will you pop out and say
“Sissy! I’m here!”
And giggle your little giggle?
When will you hug me,
And tell me that I’ll be okay?
That I can defeat them,
My demons?
Alaster, 
Please,
Come back.
Mom’s a wreck.
Nikka,
Jessie,
Gramma, 
We all miss you.
Grampa is gone.
He passed four years ago.
I didn’t know him the way you did.
But, I’m scared,
Alaster. 
I’m scared that I’ll be next,
Joining you.
At least I’ll be able to be with you again,
Six feet deep.

Details | Destinee Tucker Poem

Drowning

Depression is…
Depression is drowning in an ocean of pain.
Everyone around you is fine, 
Yet somehow,
Everyone around you is blind. 
No one sees your tears,
Your razor wrists are hidden. 
You try as hard as you can
To reach the top.
But you sink lower and lower.
You struggle for breath, 
Unable to breathe. 
You feel like no one understands.
You’re drowning.

Details | Destinee Tucker Poem

Helpless

I feel like I can't do a thing.
I sit and I cry, 
I hurt and I bleed. 
No matter what I do,
no matter what I try,
I can't feel like I belong.
I feel like I disappoint you.
All I feel is this sting,
deep in my heart. 
I feel so helpless,
and you wander around,
with a smile on your face.
I don't know what to do...

Details | Destinee Tucker Poem

Do Not Date a Writer

Do not date a writer,
As she will write about every detail. 
She will write about how she helped you with your meds
At 3 am when she could-
And should have been sleeping. 
Or how she held you 
When you needed it 
And scratched your head 
Just right. 
Or she’ll write about 
How she always made your
breakfast perfectly 
And loved to cook for you. 
Maybe she’ll write about 
When you showered together, 
Messing around and splashing 
Each other like two kids love sick. 
She’ll write about how
she dried you off after
Those showers because 
You couldn’t reach your back. 
She’ll write about how 
She made you soup and tea 
And got you Gatorade 
When you were sick. 
She’ll add in how she 
Knows all your favorite spots 
To be rubbed so you
Feel better. 
She’ll write about 
How she knew how to 
Please you in bed. 
She’ll write about how 
When she needed to be held,
You left to hand out 
With your friends. 
She’ll write about how 
On Valentine’s Day
She asked what you wanted 
For dinner. 
She made you 
Steak
Potatoes 
And carrots
But you didn’t 
ing 
Eat
Because you were ‘too full’
After eating three sandwiches 
When you knew she was 
Trying to do something special. 
She’ll write about how 
she cried that night. 
She’ll write about how
All the times she went down on you
Yet you didn’t return the favor
Despite your claims 
To ‘love eating out’. 
She’ll write about how 
You pleased yourself 
But never her. 
She’ll write about the night 
She wanted to cut 
So you broke a glass, 
Took a piece for yourself, 
And handed her a shard. 
She’ll write about how 
You flipped when she 
Reached for your phone, 
Yet let you go through hers. 
She’ll write about how 
You acted different 
After your ‘walks’, 
When you really went 
To bang girls other girls. 
She’ll write about all 
The stupid fights,
Where she would end up 
Crying and you told her 
To ‘stop the ing waterworks’. 
She’ll write about 
How often you put her down
And never brought her back up. 
She’ll write about 
How ugly you made her feel
How many times you were the reason 
She wanted to end it all. 
She’ll write about 
How much you hurt her. 
But...
Most importantly..
She will write 
About how after 
You left, 
Things aren’t quite 
As bad. 
She’ll write about 
How she realizes 
That she is a diamond
In a world of pebbles, 
The best you could ever 
Get. 
She’ll write about how 
Yes, 
She has metal health issues,
But you’re not the reason she wants to hurt herself now. 
She’ll write about 
How her hands 
Are meant for greater things 
Rather than pleasing 
An ungrateful man