its Melitha!

Untitled #7

An effort just might not be an effort at all,

Since the little I put makes everything fall.

In doubt and in certainty, my mind is a hall.

With many unopened vessels, which will have the louder call?

In the time it takes to read a chapter of a book,

A wrinkle has taken place on my look.

My pours seem to open with each and every hard study I take,

When will we ever reach that proper break?

And even if I give my engine gas every day,

My motive isn’t to always work for what I have, my motive is play.

You elders might shake your head in dismay,

But success, I’d rather just have someone get me that way. 

-Melissa Castro

(Melitha Sexton)

Taking a listen to my heart.

I cannot doubt the way my heart sways, And the joy that is brought upon my face, The way I love the essences, The way I praise.   The touch of such sweet skin, Provokes an upcoming grin. And each and every time, the sensation of our hands clasping, Will inevitably end up in a wonderful stare competition; us laughing.   I look left, I look right, I look up, and I look down, All with lack of importance, almost as if all is not around. Once was the night when I was lonely, With you, I could give two shits about lonely. 

-Melitha Sexton

Winter. (By: Melissa Castro)

The Christmas light sparkle in your eyes; so captivating.

It’s funny though because it’s all just simple science, and something mostly anyone can do.

It’s not even something some of us can and can not do, but when it happens to you…

It’s set’s my heart on blast; like new.

I remember when you first came about, who would have known.

That our touches together would be, with out a doubt, the best shown.

At times I think how blessed am I to have shared such an event,

But what is even harder to forget is how cruel of an intention you actually meant. 

Lips, ice cold hands, those you can’t forget.

But never have I had a better fulfillment of regret. 

How pathetic and insignificant it all became!

We were both so helpless, and everything else around us all the same.

Still, in a shivering state,

I write for a face I can’t seem to shake.

That one moment that those lips touched my face…

Will always remain and unsolved mistake.

-Melitha Sexton

Trust no one but yourself. By: Melitha Sexton

Imagine, if you and a friend(we will call this one Billy) got into an argument, and you, oblivious of what to do, reached out to another close friend(we will call this one Fred). Fred, you trust him with all your might, never once has he dis-honed you or regurgitated anything you’ve ever said.  He asked for more information, he gives you advice and you thank him with a hug for understanding. Is that wrong?  Is it wrong to confide in a person like that?  To believe they will purely just keep your words between both of you.  Please note that whatever you said about Billy was purely because you were concerned and never meant any of the things you said in a rude, mean, or degrading in any way of form possible.

Sooner than later, Billy fixes the argument and everything is settled. 

Unexpectedly, Fred goes on and tell Pat, a mediocre, about what happened with Billy.  Pat goes on to inform Billy.  Billy comes back to me with hate, with anger asking why would I do such a thing?  

I ask you again, is it wrong to confide in a person?  Apparently yes. 

Individuality.

All greatness of character is dependent on individuality. The man that has no other existence than that which he partakes in common with all around him, will never have any other than an existence of mediocrity.

nonconstructive.

I spend most of my time thinking about what I want to be in the future, how much I love to write and how much I love to create art in all forms.  Truth is, most of the time, I spend more time thinking about what I love to do rather than actually physically doing it.  Why is that?  It perplexes me.  

Another complication I’ve stumbled upon is the simple fact that I can’t seem to do the simple homework assignments that are assigned to me that I would most likely enjoy.  I think, “This will surely be easy, it’s only a two page paper.”  When in all actuality I never get round to doing it.  What is this?  I carry myself around as if I got things under control, but I don’t.  I don’t think of myself as such a lazy being, but I am.  How disappointing. 

-Melitha Sexton

IDGAF!!! MUSIC IS MUSIC! By: Melitha Sexton

I don’t really fucking care if music is separated in categories.  If “Metallica” isn’t considered classic metal or “Heavy Heavy Low Low” isn’t pure hardcore or ska. FUCK YOU!!! Any music that is good music I WILL LISTEN TO!!!!! 

Shit I fucking like everything from Britney Spears to Sufjan Stevens to Judy Garland etc.  Metal, Rock, Indie, Pop, Electronica or whatever the fuck else, if I fucking like it I WILL FUCKING LISTEN TO IT!

I aint a follower, I will never “not listen to something because it’s ‘not’ cool” I will listen to whatever I WANT to listen to it because frankly it is FUCKING GOOD MUSIC!!!!

For all you idiots who don’t listen to a certain band cause it isn’t of your certain little taste just because it’s “indie rock” not just “indie” SCREW YOU!!!!!!!!!! >:)

-Melitha Sexton

Rebound. By: Melitha Sexton

  I was fourteen, maybe thirteen now that I think about it.  My mind was young; at its prime of understanding blasphemy’s and profanities.  It wasn’t until then, that I started to establish what’s right from wrong.  Then, of course, I was known to be the extra weird, tomboy, freaky kid.  Little did people know that this extra weird, tomboyish, freaky kid had a mind.  A mind that built memories.  When I was younger I didn’t know the difference between ugly and pretty, too short or too tall.  I was perplexed with the people around me and what they assumed to be the greatest, physically.  I know, when I first saw him, I wasn’t really sure if my feelings were genuine, which kills me since he still haunts me till this day. 

                I remember going up to him, I wished he’d see me, not just look at me.  I told him something stupid due to nervousness, and at that age we all know how rude we all can be, he pushed me away.  That memory still breaks my heart today, especially when I see the phone ringing to find that four years is what it took for him to notice me.  This is where I deserve the slap in the face.  Well I mean it’s obvious that I just tickled his fancy now because I physically look different.  He said it himself, through varies texts and facebook messages.  So then, why is it so hard for me to just push him away?  He’s a prick, yet I am in awe, I’m flattered.  And most pathetically I still think(or rather thought) I might have a serious chance with this fellow. 

                Most people rant about how they want “love” and don’t want to be lonely and all this insignificant crap.  I was guilty of that once too, I might still be.  But this post isn’t a declaration on wanting to be loved; it’s a statement on how evil people can be.  How a person can twist and break and innocent thought I had as a thirteen year old.  How now, a jealous girlfriend wants to “get even” with me because I had an naive crush on a boy four years ago.  The mind is a powerful thing, I guess over time the thought built up, and now, that I’m “different”(please note that I don’t think I’m different what so ever, I’m the same, always have been always will be.)I’m a threat.  I’ve always wanted to tell this young lady, “Girl, I don’t want your man, your man wants me!” 

                But that would just be hypocritical.  I won’t deny it; it felt good to be wanted by him at least once. 

-Melitha Sexton

Untitled #6

Trapped with this hollow feeling, my eyes spit out a tear or two.

The memory of our interactions seems to be running to infinity

A toss of brunette hair,

An aroma of rainbow skin.

You’ve adopted another naïve victim

Oblivious to your breezy power and dashing grin,

I become captivated again, and again.

If only you could reach into my chest so you can physically take what you already did.

Permanently burned,

Successfully scared,

The morning sun doesn’t even seem to matter as much.

Thanks, thanks a bunch. 

-Melissa Castro

Repressed Memories.

Those eyes correctly placed above that nose.

I hate it.

The movement of those hips going about, aqua in the background.

Fake I say, Fake.  No one as horrible as you can be that great.

To think that I knew, we all knew, you craved my touch.

You wanted to make a smile rise, you cared.

Now?

You’re what?  Too good to look my way? Bitch.

Pathetically I am consistently curious,

And will for almost forever.

Such evil you’ve carried my way, you’ve burned me with your demonish ways.

Condemned in exile I will always remain

You got your way.

-Melissa Castro

[Melitha Sexton]

Untitled #1

Questionable actions, but only in a reasonable way,

This relationship wont be long because I don’t care for it to stay.

They use their eyes, the looks, the friendly smiles,

Contemplative perplexities and beguiles.

When I touch his hand I feel more than nothing,

but the rush form the environment is more than something.

A wet gesture of affection is presented upon me,

before I walk away and meet with another honey.

Still under the name of teen yet I am an adult,

Who am I to know what is right from fault.

Cross your arms and nod, yes that will be a bother,

Yet I am only guilty of a mistake made my many married fathers.

-Melissa C. Castro

(aka: Melitha Sexton)

I’m not fake, Don’t make a mistake.

My inner eye sways from left to right.

My soul jumps around the room, it glides.

The unrealistic presence of me makes itself to your room.

Can you even wake up at this time of night?

It’s like whenever I make an effort to jump out of my safety zone,

Someone else’s is penetrated.

I can never be me and accepted unless it’s me being boring.

It is not until I bloom that things are unsteady.

Am I banished to be a lonely being?

To not be accepted for what I actually am but as how society wants me to be?

I beg, I can plead a “please” after “please”.

The only thing I’ve ever wanted was to be accepted for me.

-Melissa Castro

[MelithaSexton]

Because I wondered.

Well all have come out of our cocoons and bloomed into our parents dreams.  

If it was not once a dream then it would have never been me.

Across the pages of each text book and monitor and screen,

You think I have to try harder, this is what I wanted, I wanted this, for me.

You’ve become blinded with what is actually falsey truth and truthful false,

Wanting to be you is not actually you.

We all live by a system that controls what we want,

Yet, I can not imagine myself with out the system, I’d loose everything I’ve got. 

Our only way out is by digging into one anothers heart,

By working around it by finding some sort of unreal, heard of art.

It is such a waste of time, it’s such a waste of a human being.

To be ingulfed by a feeling that we made ours since nothing else is.

Waste of time? Is that me talking or just what I think I should be saying?

I can’t tell the difference anymore, what the system wants, what my parents what?

What do I want?  

I will never know, Cause I’m under the law of either you progress or no.

Did I have an option?

Is this really the land of freedom?

-Melissa Castro

Untitled #5 (By: Melissa Castro)

Hardships come and go,

Like a new lady, a fellow, a foe.

My mistakes have taken me from place to place,

I have found escaping realms in no ones face. 

To be lonesome is to be unhappy,

to be happy is to be loved.

How can I be happy when being loved seems so fake?

When being loved feels like a huge mistake.

You are what you think and create,

I surely haven’t thought of enough.

Unless that’s just a thought that makes me who I am,

As I push away and reject that perfect, new man.

I take a bitter sweet turn in life every 5 seconds,

I think my decisions will actually make sense and,

I stumble over my own ideas and perplexities,

Until I’m left with an empty feeling and nothings left of me.

-Melitha