Will I ever be enough?
In a world that praises perfection
Will I ever be what you want?
With every flaw I have
And every bleeding scar
Would you take me as a whole?
Would you water this dying flower?
Would you make me bloom?

of course i scream when i yawn! (slightly)
is it not frightening to know that despite all this caffeine,
i am still tired?

they said it was hard, not impossible
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
but does it look like i have the energy for that?

the poet is the seamstress,
sewing words into sentences
.
the poet is the architect
building their paragraphs
.
the poet is the performer
setting the stage
.
the poet is the dreamer
with endless possibilities

-----however-----

the poet is falling apart
their heart unmendable; in pieces
.
the poet is scared
walls that protect, yet isolate.
.
but the poet is strong
and lives to tell their tale
.
as the poet is the dreamer
with endless possibilities

i saw the stars in your eyes


...as in red stars
the supergiants on the brink of death





you should probably go see a doctor

lullabies are counterproductive
do not bother to sing
for i will wake up,
and stay up-
to hear you finish the entire thing