My Favorite Color
The burn of the knife on my flesh is such a release.
I laugh as the blood pours from my veins.
Landing in small red puddles on the snow,
As the trees watch me go insane.
This is not what I want, but who cares about me?
This pain is for all the others, though this is not what I need.
I can’t help them, I can’t save them,
There’s nothing left for me to do but bleed.
My wrists are on fire as the knife beats them like a whip,
Striking the same place over and over, again and again.
I scream and I’m afraid that the world has heard me,
But then I realize the scream was only in my head.
If I had a bullet, the pain would come greater.
If I had fire, the burn would be stronger.
If I had a rope, this would end more quickly.
If I had more time, this pain would last longer.
If I weren’t such a procrastinator I’d already be dead.
Though, there would be no one to mourn.
Remove the body and the stains from the carpet.
Pretend the girl was never born…
By: Anon.
Friday, November 16, 2007
The Things I Hide
The Things I Hide
Pissed at the world, crying in pain,
Slowly dying in the life that I've made.
Laughing at jokes, pretending its okay,
Yet contemplating my death every other day.
No one warned me of these fears.
Closer to death every year.
Like the mascara pouring down my face,
I want to run away, leave this place.
Should I hold on or just let go,
To the things in head that no one knows?
I’ll pack a bag and then just run.
No one will notice until I'm gone.
Everyday I just paint on a smile.
I’ll let them pretend I'm okay for a while.
Though, they know I'm not who I used to be,
They still think I'm the same me,
When the truth couldn’t be farther away.
It’s all because I still act the same.
Laughing and joking about my checkered shoes.
Not knowing, this friend, they’re going to lose.
I lose my grip and finally fall.
No one saw this coming at all.
By: Anon.
Pissed at the world, crying in pain,
Slowly dying in the life that I've made.
Laughing at jokes, pretending its okay,
Yet contemplating my death every other day.
No one warned me of these fears.
Closer to death every year.
Like the mascara pouring down my face,
I want to run away, leave this place.
Should I hold on or just let go,
To the things in head that no one knows?
I’ll pack a bag and then just run.
No one will notice until I'm gone.
Everyday I just paint on a smile.
I’ll let them pretend I'm okay for a while.
Though, they know I'm not who I used to be,
They still think I'm the same me,
When the truth couldn’t be farther away.
It’s all because I still act the same.
Laughing and joking about my checkered shoes.
Not knowing, this friend, they’re going to lose.
I lose my grip and finally fall.
No one saw this coming at all.
By: Anon.
A Box of Matches
A Box of Matches
I abhor you with
One thousand pieces of my mind.
One thousand shards of expired shrapnel
Would embed their talons in the
Deepest alleys of your celebrated dermis.
One thousand wolves with onyx jaws
Would demolish you, un-piecing your
Somatotype as it were a backwards jigsaw.
One thousand flasks of frenzied acids
Would drown you, drink you, dissolve your
Sociopathy and your bad sense of humour.
By: Steph
I abhor you with
One thousand pieces of my mind.
One thousand shards of expired shrapnel
Would embed their talons in the
Deepest alleys of your celebrated dermis.
One thousand wolves with onyx jaws
Would demolish you, un-piecing your
Somatotype as it were a backwards jigsaw.
One thousand flasks of frenzied acids
Would drown you, drink you, dissolve your
Sociopathy and your bad sense of humour.
By: Steph
Untitled
I live in a world of solitude,
Filled with regret and remorse.
In my world a good day is a rarity,
And sadness is the norm.
I fill myself with uncertainty,
Uncertain of the choices I make,
Hopefully looking back on these choices will not be regretfully
if all goes well these decisions should pull me out of my world,
and bring me back to yours.
By: Cora
Filled with regret and remorse.
In my world a good day is a rarity,
And sadness is the norm.
I fill myself with uncertainty,
Uncertain of the choices I make,
Hopefully looking back on these choices will not be regretfully
if all goes well these decisions should pull me out of my world,
and bring me back to yours.
By: Cora
Untitled
The rain hits the freshly cut grass,
My clothes drenched.
Yet still I stand there,
All alone.
The skies are dark tonight.
In my hand clenched tight,
My only way of remembering.
My only reason to go on...
Tears stream down my colored cheeks.
My eyes, they swell.
My life, it slowly disappears.
As the rain hits the freshly cut grass,
My clothes are all drenched.
Yet I still stand there,
All alone.
Is this what life is supposed to be like?
Where have the smiles gone?
Is everyone’s heart caked with this grief?
This pain?
My pain...
It feels as if some one has shoved their fist through my chest,
And in their hand they clench my heart.
Squeezing harder, and harder,
Till it feels as if it will burst.
Tears stream down my colored cheeks.
My eyes, they swell.
My life, it slowly disappears.
As the rain hits the freshly cut grass,
My clothes are all drenched.
Yet I still stand there,
All alone.
Why was I not aloud to see you?
I don't understand what they want me to do.
All I ever wanted is to see you.
They pull me away,
From the only thing I was living for.
As the rain hits the freshly cut grass,
My clothes are all drenched.
Yet I still stand there,
All alone.
I tighten my grip (all alone),
On my only reminder (always alone).
My only memory worth keeping (alone).
Till the end of time I shall carry this with me (always).
Till the day I day I shall long for you (my love...).
Though you are gone I remain (to carry on),
I will live my life day by day (the pain).
Your voice echoes in my head (it grows).
I yearn for you're touch again in bed (the sweet touch).
My reminder, my only one.
Grasped in my hand as your grave is dug.
They lower the coffin,
The hole so deep.
Six feet under they will keep,
Your body, my love,
Will decompose.
But your soul with soar freely,
As mine longs to.
But I stay in this world and carry on.
With this reminder in my hand I cry one last time,
Allowing myself one last moment.
Forever, my love.
You shall be in my heart.
Never to leave.
By: Li
My clothes drenched.
Yet still I stand there,
All alone.
The skies are dark tonight.
In my hand clenched tight,
My only way of remembering.
My only reason to go on...
Tears stream down my colored cheeks.
My eyes, they swell.
My life, it slowly disappears.
As the rain hits the freshly cut grass,
My clothes are all drenched.
Yet I still stand there,
All alone.
Is this what life is supposed to be like?
Where have the smiles gone?
Is everyone’s heart caked with this grief?
This pain?
My pain...
It feels as if some one has shoved their fist through my chest,
And in their hand they clench my heart.
Squeezing harder, and harder,
Till it feels as if it will burst.
Tears stream down my colored cheeks.
My eyes, they swell.
My life, it slowly disappears.
As the rain hits the freshly cut grass,
My clothes are all drenched.
Yet I still stand there,
All alone.
Why was I not aloud to see you?
I don't understand what they want me to do.
All I ever wanted is to see you.
They pull me away,
From the only thing I was living for.
As the rain hits the freshly cut grass,
My clothes are all drenched.
Yet I still stand there,
All alone.
I tighten my grip (all alone),
On my only reminder (always alone).
My only memory worth keeping (alone).
Till the end of time I shall carry this with me (always).
Till the day I day I shall long for you (my love...).
Though you are gone I remain (to carry on),
I will live my life day by day (the pain).
Your voice echoes in my head (it grows).
I yearn for you're touch again in bed (the sweet touch).
My reminder, my only one.
Grasped in my hand as your grave is dug.
They lower the coffin,
The hole so deep.
Six feet under they will keep,
Your body, my love,
Will decompose.
But your soul with soar freely,
As mine longs to.
But I stay in this world and carry on.
With this reminder in my hand I cry one last time,
Allowing myself one last moment.
Forever, my love.
You shall be in my heart.
Never to leave.
By: Li
Monday, November 12, 2007
Lonely In Love
the first one had beauty,
the second had smarts,
the third was awesome,
the forth is strong,
the fifth had everything
A man could want.
The first, shot me down
like a bird in the sky
the second and third
doubled teamed me,
with their late night stories,
and weekend fisaco's
The forth i gave away
to a friend of mine,
she was a good dime
but not mines
the fifth got a "friend",
with her around i got no chance,
try an make a date, to the movies, out to dance,
She say's yes, "friend" says No
Thats how the tragedy ends
Chris Boutte
written at age 14
Catergory: Life Sucks and I Want to Die
the second had smarts,
the third was awesome,
the forth is strong,
the fifth had everything
A man could want.
The first, shot me down
like a bird in the sky
the second and third
doubled teamed me,
with their late night stories,
and weekend fisaco's
The forth i gave away
to a friend of mine,
she was a good dime
but not mines
the fifth got a "friend",
with her around i got no chance,
try an make a date, to the movies, out to dance,
She say's yes, "friend" says No
Thats how the tragedy ends
Chris Boutte
written at age 14
Catergory: Life Sucks and I Want to Die
Monday, August 27, 2007
Anger
I'll gauge out your eyes,
rip off your head
and puke in the hole.
I got the right to. (sic)
I'm nothing to you
and you're less than that to me.
I was OK, but obviously I'm not now.
What did I do?
I ain't gonna know
'cause I really don't care.
And I'm not about to.
by Mike Lipsius
rip off your head
and puke in the hole.
I got the right to. (sic)
I'm nothing to you
and you're less than that to me.
I was OK, but obviously I'm not now.
What did I do?
I ain't gonna know
'cause I really don't care.
And I'm not about to.
by Mike Lipsius
Again-
I mistook you for a friend.
I did it again and again.
I thought you were you all along.
Second-guessing made me wrong.
I don't want to fall for you again.
I won't be a sucker for you again.
I wish you were for real.
This anger I wouldn't feel.
I guess it's part of life.
I'll just have to live with your knife.
You're nothing but a fake!
by Mike Lipsius
I did it again and again.
I thought you were you all along.
Second-guessing made me wrong.
I don't want to fall for you again.
I won't be a sucker for you again.
I wish you were for real.
This anger I wouldn't feel.
I guess it's part of life.
I'll just have to live with your knife.
You're nothing but a fake!
by Mike Lipsius
Friday, July 20, 2007
FUCK OFF AND DIE- REVIEWS
'F**K OFF and DIE! Canadian Actor Online
Part 1: Thought this would be a punky rant but it turns out it is rather charmingly witty trip through the teen angst poetry of writer /performer Sara Bynoe (and others)with no small amount of searing adolescent chagrin, served up with affectionate remembrance. Tarragon Xtra Sp. Recommended.
PArt 2: Who knew bad poetry could be so good. Funny and even poignant, but mostly funny. Lots of 'cringe worthy' lines that will take you back to your years of angst (and hey, some of may still be there) in a way that you will enjoy. I was expecting a screaming rant. This is anything but. Recommended. Tarragon Xtra Sp.
Experimental Experiment
Tonight we caught “F[_]ck Off and Die: Tales in Teen Angst Poetry“, a one-woman show by Sara Bynoe. Absolutely brilliant! She takes you on a bright and cheerful journey through the dark and morose and highly self-referential jungle of teenage angst poetry. It’s absolutely, deliriously hilarious for anyone, especially those of us who were grungers and misfits, who were tragically poetic and poetically bored, in the ’90’s.
Fuck Off and Die: Tales in Teen Angst Poetry- Three Stars
EYE WEEKLY's Review
If you’ve ever accidentally found your junior high school journals full of obvious metaphors and cringe-worthy rhyme schemes, you’ll appreciate Sara Bynoe’s theatrical enactment of her own adolescent attempt at poetry. Besides verbal renditions of heartache, hatred and convoluted musings about nothing in particular, Bynoe brings a “name that tune” game and a storytelling act into the show, which unfortunately do nothing but detract from the overall experience. Well-thought out ighting and ironic music, as well as personal anecdotes contextualizing her poems, are more than sufficient in keeping the program fresh. Eliza Northwood
Audience Reviews from Eye Weekly:
Brian D. July 7th, 2007
I agree and disagree with the reviewer. Yes, Sara’s readings of her poems are fantastic, but the other stuff, the audience participation parts are fantastic additions which keep the pace and energy growing.
Sara’s energy is magnetic. My wife and I were talking about our teen angst, teen angst in music and I couldn’t stop singing “Fuck off and Die” for hours after the show… well I’m still singing the song. 4.5 STARS from us.
Arianna Says:
July 8th, 2007 at 6:26 pm
Personally, I really enjoyed this show and would give it much more than three stars. Teen Angst Poetry is one of my favorite things in the world. Being a staff member (now an editor) of my high school’s literary magazine, I see a lot of it, and not all of it is as funny as Sara’s.
If you have ever written a poem, go to this show.
If you have ever cried while listening to music, go to this show.
(If you have ever cried while listening to Nickelback, go to this show twice. You need the reality check.)
So, basically, go to this show. It’s wonderful.
Andrew Says:
July 8th, 2007 at 10:19 pm
I agree with the other comments: this show deserves better than three stars. I’s give it a solid four+. Very enjoyable.
Jim Mayer Says:
July 9th, 2007 at 12:35 am
My daughter really wanted to see this show. I was mildly interested, and my wife only went along to humor us. All three of us loved it.
It even inspired me to write a poem:
AN ODE TO SARA BYNOE
I was alone
With no one near
To hear me cry
I could not fly
My wings, my soul
Trapped in a bowl
And dark, dark, darkness
Blackened the uttermost depths of my black despair.
Then Sara came
And like a flame
She lit the night
SHE SPOKE MY WORDS!
SHE HEARD MY PAIN!
The bowl tipped over
My soul flew free!
To fly, and flit
And write pure sh*t!
:-)
Kate Says:
July 9th, 2007 at 1:14 pm
Sara Bynoe made me nearly pee myself I laughed so hard. I bought her book and I love it! See this show if you have any sence of humor about yourself. 5 Stars from Kate.
Christopher G Says:
July 11th, 2007 at 10:49 am
Very, Very, Very Funny! Loved the show and the performance. Four big stars! See it, you’ll like it. To say more would lessen the angst…I’m trying to get in touch with my inner-teen… GET OUT OF MY ROOM…LEAVE ME ALONE!!!
Stephanie Says:
July 12th, 2007 at 9:18 am
Waffled about seeing this one. It all seemed too easy & obvious to go back & laugh at who you were as a teen. I wondered where the “theatre” element would be…. and then… Sara is such a strong performer! I was riveted. (except when she tried to tell me I was like Molly Ringwald… then I felt betrayed… who gave YOU the right to JUDGE MY PAIN?!!!… utterly betrayed… )
Heather Says:
July 13th, 2007 at 10:11 pm
Sara is a very likeable stage performer. The concept for the show is original and funny. I bought the book as a pleasant reminder of an enjoyable experience. 4 stars.
Part 1: Thought this would be a punky rant but it turns out it is rather charmingly witty trip through the teen angst poetry of writer /performer Sara Bynoe (and others)with no small amount of searing adolescent chagrin, served up with affectionate remembrance. Tarragon Xtra Sp. Recommended.
PArt 2: Who knew bad poetry could be so good. Funny and even poignant, but mostly funny. Lots of 'cringe worthy' lines that will take you back to your years of angst (and hey, some of may still be there) in a way that you will enjoy. I was expecting a screaming rant. This is anything but. Recommended. Tarragon Xtra Sp.
Experimental Experiment
Tonight we caught “F[_]ck Off and Die: Tales in Teen Angst Poetry“, a one-woman show by Sara Bynoe. Absolutely brilliant! She takes you on a bright and cheerful journey through the dark and morose and highly self-referential jungle of teenage angst poetry. It’s absolutely, deliriously hilarious for anyone, especially those of us who were grungers and misfits, who were tragically poetic and poetically bored, in the ’90’s.
Fuck Off and Die: Tales in Teen Angst Poetry- Three Stars
EYE WEEKLY's Review
If you’ve ever accidentally found your junior high school journals full of obvious metaphors and cringe-worthy rhyme schemes, you’ll appreciate Sara Bynoe’s theatrical enactment of her own adolescent attempt at poetry. Besides verbal renditions of heartache, hatred and convoluted musings about nothing in particular, Bynoe brings a “name that tune” game and a storytelling act into the show, which unfortunately do nothing but detract from the overall experience. Well-thought out ighting and ironic music, as well as personal anecdotes contextualizing her poems, are more than sufficient in keeping the program fresh. Eliza Northwood
Audience Reviews from Eye Weekly:
Brian D. July 7th, 2007
I agree and disagree with the reviewer. Yes, Sara’s readings of her poems are fantastic, but the other stuff, the audience participation parts are fantastic additions which keep the pace and energy growing.
Sara’s energy is magnetic. My wife and I were talking about our teen angst, teen angst in music and I couldn’t stop singing “Fuck off and Die” for hours after the show… well I’m still singing the song. 4.5 STARS from us.
Arianna Says:
July 8th, 2007 at 6:26 pm
Personally, I really enjoyed this show and would give it much more than three stars. Teen Angst Poetry is one of my favorite things in the world. Being a staff member (now an editor) of my high school’s literary magazine, I see a lot of it, and not all of it is as funny as Sara’s.
If you have ever written a poem, go to this show.
If you have ever cried while listening to music, go to this show.
(If you have ever cried while listening to Nickelback, go to this show twice. You need the reality check.)
So, basically, go to this show. It’s wonderful.
Andrew Says:
July 8th, 2007 at 10:19 pm
I agree with the other comments: this show deserves better than three stars. I’s give it a solid four+. Very enjoyable.
Jim Mayer Says:
July 9th, 2007 at 12:35 am
My daughter really wanted to see this show. I was mildly interested, and my wife only went along to humor us. All three of us loved it.
It even inspired me to write a poem:
AN ODE TO SARA BYNOE
I was alone
With no one near
To hear me cry
I could not fly
My wings, my soul
Trapped in a bowl
And dark, dark, darkness
Blackened the uttermost depths of my black despair.
Then Sara came
And like a flame
She lit the night
SHE SPOKE MY WORDS!
SHE HEARD MY PAIN!
The bowl tipped over
My soul flew free!
To fly, and flit
And write pure sh*t!
:-)
Kate Says:
July 9th, 2007 at 1:14 pm
Sara Bynoe made me nearly pee myself I laughed so hard. I bought her book and I love it! See this show if you have any sence of humor about yourself. 5 Stars from Kate.
Christopher G Says:
July 11th, 2007 at 10:49 am
Very, Very, Very Funny! Loved the show and the performance. Four big stars! See it, you’ll like it. To say more would lessen the angst…I’m trying to get in touch with my inner-teen… GET OUT OF MY ROOM…LEAVE ME ALONE!!!
Stephanie Says:
July 12th, 2007 at 9:18 am
Waffled about seeing this one. It all seemed too easy & obvious to go back & laugh at who you were as a teen. I wondered where the “theatre” element would be…. and then… Sara is such a strong performer! I was riveted. (except when she tried to tell me I was like Molly Ringwald… then I felt betrayed… who gave YOU the right to JUDGE MY PAIN?!!!… utterly betrayed… )
Heather Says:
July 13th, 2007 at 10:11 pm
Sara is a very likeable stage performer. The concept for the show is original and funny. I bought the book as a pleasant reminder of an enjoyable experience. 4 stars.
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