dear young foolish little me,
when you join the first triumvirate,
it will seem like the most infinite, right thing to do.
you will be wrong.
it'll all start off with faint words,
bright smiles and silly things,
in the smallest yet largest of worlds.
but friend, you will find yourself,
on the other side of a fence,
you think you'll never cross.
yet the triumvirate will,
and i do mean will,
lead you down the road most steep and most taken,
until your old self has vanished entirely.
on this road you'll all leap into a lake,
a world much larger and daunting,
but you will quickly warm up to it.
you'll spend too much time worrying
over a silly piece of seaweed,
leaving only a duo to steer a boat for three.
soon they'll grow tired of your talk of seaweed.
the loud one will become silent;
the gentle will boldly curse your name.
the first triumvirate will not last.
and you will not fixate on this seaweed forever.
you will rediscover your old self,
renovated and broken all at once.
in fact, darling, you will eventually find yourself,
in a second triumvirate.
this like the last, in that there are three.
but unlike in that of course, this time it will last.
or so you think.
you will grow close with the young,
who finds the same seaweed just as fascinating.
the outspoken will speak out of hand,
and the triumvirate will be worn.
i am uncertain of the future of this second triumvirate.
oh future me, i am young, foolish, and little.
please,
will this triumvirate last?
Apr 30, 2017
Apr 30, 2017 at 11:55 PM UTC
please don't tell me,
that i should be my first priority,
when i am but one out of many,
and many are far more burdened than i.
please don't tell me,
that my comfort is of utmost importance,
when there are things far better than "comfortable,"
that lie far outside of my comfort zone.
and please don't tell me,
that no one could love me more than me,
and do not tell me,
that i can fix all my problems by myself,
that i am the solution to all my mistakes,
and that i am my own savior.
if all i have is me,
then i am hopeless,
and i am limited to failure.
don't lie to me.
on the contrary,
i have a Creator,
whose name has been shunned,
because no one wants to give credit where credit is due.
do not lie to me,
you only fool yourselves.
while you selfishly keep the glory,
He provides for you;
giving you all that you thought you had given yourself.
do not lie to me.
i know better.
and, for your own sake,
do not lie to yourself either.
Jan 2, 2017
Jan 2, 2017 at 10:29 PM UTC
"why are you upset?"
"i don't know i'm tired, i guess."
"then just turn it off."
Nov 22, 2016
Nov 22, 2016 at 7:07 PM UTC
somehow i got lost,
after a innumerable amount of
wrong turns and best-laid plans gone awry.
somehow i got lost, or...
have i always been here?
i can't tell,
i can't tell,
i can't tell anymore,
when all i can see is this cave,
engulfed in the all-too-familiar darkness.
the only exception is a stray bit of light,
reminding me of where they are.
it illuminates these desolate walls,
reminding me of where i will always be.
Nov 15, 2016
Nov 15, 2016 at 8:43 PM UTC
i have a box,
and nobody knows.
or maybe the box has me,
but as i've said,
nobody really knows.
it's really just fine;
they can't get in,
inside this box,
this makeshift home,
to which i've become accustomed,
but never comfortable.
it's really just fine;
i can't get out,
but maybe one day,
maybe i'll be okay with that.
after all, no one can get in.
i have a box,
and it's really just fine,
i've decorated the insides
with scribbles and tally marks.
besides, no one really knows,
no one can get inside.
i have a box,
and it's really just fine,
some days i forget it's even there...
well, some minutes,
but that's close enough to days,
so the tally marks aren't as many,
but they're still. there.
*i have a box,
and it's really. just. fine.*
it's got a little window,
so i can see outside the box,
but when will i get to
think. outside. this box.
no one can see in the window,
so it's really just fine.
no one can see in the window,
no one can get inside,
and no one even knows about it,
so, though I have this box,
it's really. just. fine.
Nov 11, 2016
Nov 11, 2016 at 9:59 PM UTC
I thought I knew love in first grade when a certain little second grader caught my attention and I caught his. I thought I knew love in fifth grade when I had a guy to call mine and play one on one basketball with. I thought I knew love in sixth grade when I developed a crush on my dorky best friend. I thought I knew it when, in eighth grade, I fell for a guy, then despite his rejection, became friends with him. Several times in ninth grade I thought I had it figured out, each time the same person, each time a different story. I thought I knew love when we went to homecoming together, when I spent months just staying his friend for his sake, when I was rejected once again by this friend of mine.
I thought I knew love, what it was. But love is none of those, not for me, anyways. Love was when, after all this, after I decided maybe love wasn't real, my heart showed me a friend of mine. Not attractive to society's standards, but who am I to judge when he has a heart of gold and the kind of personality that makes me want to be myself? Love is when you find someone you don't want to change yourself for. Instead you want to be your truest, most beautiful self, and, without ever realizing, they help you accomplish that.
That. That is love.
Apr 23, 2016
Apr 23, 2016 at 10:29 PM UTC
I began to love myself,
Foreign though it be.
But suddenly I've realized,
How much it means for me.
As I began to love myself,
I found it rather hard,
To love myself and realize,
How beautiful my flaws are.
As I went on loving myself,
I grew into it fast.
I started to put myself first,
Instead of always last.
I grew self-love and confidence,
And realized one day,
That as I loved myself,
I started loving others the same way.
As I began to love myself,
Foreign though it be,
I saw myself as beautiful,
And fell in love with me.
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 7:49 AM UTC
i was never one to believe in soulmates,
nor do i now.
there's hundreds of men,
that i could get along with just as well as i do with you.
but somehow, i still feel,
that somehow we were destined for each other.
not soulmates,
just destined.
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 7:29 AM UTC
i think i have it figured out,
only to fail miserably.
but i still make progress,
failing less miserably each time.
a trial and error effort of sorts.
oh, each time,
i think i have it figured out,
that it's my time to succeed.
each time i fall short,
but each time i fall a little longer.
at some point,
i hope,
i will make it across the line,
and finally succeed.
Apr 17, 2016
Apr 17, 2016 at 10:27 PM UTC
it used to be enough,
with the ones in the past,
to simply daydream.
poetry made me miss them less;
i could look at a picture,
listen to a song,
then suddenly feel at ease.
but this time,
it is both a blessing and a curse,
that i have someone in my life,
whose presence cannot be replaced,
by a song, or a poem, or a daydream.
it is a blessing indeed,
but a curse when we're apart.
Apr 17, 2016
Apr 17, 2016 at 10:09 PM UTC