when I was angry, I was unstoppable
with fire in my veins I felt like I could move mountains if I just believed it hard enough
I was so capable
and so delicate
I was so scared
and so strong
when I was mad, I was motivated
with pain came beautiful triumphs
I was so ashamed
and so proud
I was so embarrassed
and so confident
when I am not angry anymore, I am incapable
without fire in my soul, I don’t believe I can get up out of bed
I am so happy
and so sad
I am so comfortable
and so confused

I wish I could delete everything I’ve ever posted on the internet,
make myself disappear,
untraceable, unavailable, please try again another time,
I want to hit return and erase every text I’ve ever sent,
being invisible is safe, anonymity is freedom,
I want to fall out of cyberspace and into a black hole of pre recorded memories,
of times before we were attached to cords for validation,
so many perceptions of who I am create Frankenstein versions of me insinuated in the minds of others,
am I who I think I am or who you think I am?
manipulating wires became plugged into our brains and we forgot what we looked like in the mirror,
I want to know what I really think of me,
not what I was groomed into seeing
from years of comparisons that will never be enough,
I want to log myself out from the internet and act like I just logged in,
to what life would’ve been without it

Building up my anger,
      brick by brick.
Laying a wicked heart upon
the cement of hurt I feel;
And if I were a street— everyone would
now be correct to walk all over me,
      brick by brick.

A bridge, to gap two parties as the
middle ground to all their arguments
—an abandoned apartment, filled with
all the tenants, of memories well lived,
      brick by brick.

A madhouse, for all of the creativity;
to out there for the world to even understand
So brick by brick, they lay
Day by day, I try not to build a
wall around my constructed smile,
      brick by brick.

Block these lines
that come to find
all these insecurities
in your mind.

Let yourself be heard
let yourself be seen
Fly like a free bird
and break this cage that’s never been.

You are confident
You are enough
You yourself are a complement
You are brave and you are tough.

Break these shackles that hold you back
Let all of it go
There’s nothing that you lack
then watch your life grow.

Grow, to the way it’s supposed to be
The way you have always wanted it to be
Never conceal
Always feel

Be true and see what happens
Because that’s the way of life
You attract what you imagine.

And so, it seems like an additional day
you’re back counting on misfortunes,
As when they named you spoiled,
that always made you feel so less important,
A foreigner everywhere in gatherings;
as your spoken words, feel imported,
You’ve felt like fallen wine, as all your
maturity blemished the floors—
A child grounded, by your countless flaws.

Dreadfully ascending out of your many
troubles, but you slip up on life’s stairs,
As all of those hypothetical elevating eyes;
sometimes bring you down, with people’s
awkward stares.

You’ve done your best, while
pretending like you never tire,
But sometimes you lose the grip to
that drive, like a worn-down tyre,
Still, you have to wear a heroic smile
as a part of your attire;
—and between having a part of will to
do any well, the world spins the notion
of it not being so, like a tyre.

You’re covering up a wave of hidden
emotions, in a couple ***** durags,
Articulating them, always feels too late,
—a poor clothing of words; in these due rags.

In truth, you feel like words
that sound the same, but with
two different meanings,
Your life is just this relentless,
finding out one remarkable meaning,
As your purpose is what you’ll look out
yourself...no I mean, In.

If I cry out to a gaze of boisterous
watchers, as every star falling out of the
sky, —I’d too, feel so out of place. I would
appear, a feast to Time, by just a second’s graze.

Truly startled at how short a life is;
even by the Greener pastures we so
meaninglessly hunt after; do know
full well, all the grass that grows so
promising; will all eventually be grazed.

And perhaps the purple envy I had
for the freedom’s worth knitted into
the sky, would all at last turn so grey,

And so, I would cry a river’s mountain,
upon knowing how much time I spent,
chasing after meaningless things in all my days.

For the cares of the world offers
only a moment’s praise,

Till I’m of course consumed, with finding
the reasoning to clarify such a craze—
I’d have no answer to my Creator’s name;
and I’d be so ashamed.

His voice,
voyages through the darkness of every
cornered shadow, chasing after the reins
of ultimately being consumed,— annihilated.

As if being pressed to the heart
of an angel; as the tears of stars are
dancing in the drape of faultless dark,
Sweltering bright, — as a flame impaled
his gaze, with the loudest of needles.

Every breath grew harder, and harder,
as if the same needles were jabbing around
in his stomach— they must have been nerves;
the butterflies he had felt, declaring his
hidden affections to a crush.

The same crushing feeling you
have for a crush, that you hope
won’t crush you with their refusal,
But rather crush you with
the crushing idea:
         of falling in love.