someone
i need help
i cannot live this life anymore
but i don't want to die
this life of mine
it's not going to change
my life is a bad song on repeat
and i don't know what to do

what is time?
is it temporary?
is that all time means?
a way to measure
how long something takes
so valuable, yet
so easily squandered

with you
the river of time,
flowing faster that we think
slows just a bit

each caress, each smile
turns back the tide
stealing seconds and
making them last longer
than i ever thought i'd want

the past 17 eternities pass
in the blink of an eye
compared to the few moments we share
tucked away in the corner
hidden in our own thoughts
safe from the world of worry
of insecurity and shame

hiding from everything but each other

it starts small
small enough to be kept hidden
locked away

then it grows
a n d   g r o w s
a  n  d    g  r  o  w  s

until it can no longer be hidden

that ceaseless presence
soft, simmering
then exploding
effortlessly pushing away everything

everyone

i don't understand
how you presume to tell me
you want to solve our
miscommunication problem
no
first of all
it is not our problem
it is yours
every time you don't listen to me
every time you take what I say
take my pure, innocent words
and twist their meanings
that is miscommunication
every time you lie about what i said
or act as if i never said anything at all
that is miscommunication
how dare you spend hours each night
complaining about your lack of friends
and the horrid things they do
to a person twice as horrid
how dare you come tell me
that you don't want to be around
people whom you can't talk to
who don't want to listen to what you have to say
people who don't give you time to speak
or when they're mad, turn you away
you do the same thing to me
so maybe i should ignore you
like you say you should ignore them
maybe i should turn away from you
cast you away, curse your name
scream your evil deeds to the world
but no
you forbid it
and a fool, i listen
i listen because i love you
i love you despite everything you've put me through
the **** you've made me feel like
the fractures in my soul that can never feel
the emptiness within me
i still love you
and i hate myself for it
because i can't stop
i can't stop wanting to please you
i can't go against you
how dare you presume to tell me
that you were like me
therefore you understand what i'm feeling
that you're sorry for what i'm feeling
you know nothing
you haven't lived my life
you haven't faced what i've faced
you haven't hurt like i've hurt
you haven't fought like i've fought
you never fought
you never tried
you
you
you did nothing
you stood by and watched
while here i am
actually trying to do something
and you keep beating me down
how dare you
how dare you
and you dare say you love me
how dare you
i love you
but i hate you
you're never going to read this
but even if you did
it wouldn't change anything
because for all the love you say you have
you don't give a **** about me
all you want is control
well
have all the control you want
it's gone in four months
just like i will be
there's nothing left between us
this will be goodbye
you won't miss me
you'll just miss having someone to boss around
and you'll realize too late
that you could have tried
to care
about your son

i feel safe
in the most dangerous of places
in her arms
against her lips
under her gaze
on her mind
where i'm not supposed to be
but can't seem to stay away from

when you're older you're supposed to
overshadow, not be overshadowed
constantly compared to
one who's similar yet
vastly different
we are not the
same we can
be different
don't ask
me to be
like him


i'm not him

they say
that each person you know
knows a person
and if you travel those links
you have connections
to everyone
it takes
a maximum of six steps
six "friends of a friend"
to know anyone in the world
but that's not how
i want to know you
i don't want to be separated
i want to be by your side
but that's not how
things seem to be working out
you're so close
but so far away
and for that
i'm sorry

what is a smile
but a mask

what is a laugh
but an act

why do i try my best
to make everyone think
everything is okay

when nothing is?

each moment
i begin to
lose my mind

i am not
a fan of
being idle

it makes me think
and that
is never good

sometimes it feels
like i'm dropped
in the middle of a storm
and told to swim back to shore
i'm...
not strong
but i'm not weak
and i know how to swim
so i start the long journey
to what i hope will be better
than these tumultuous waves
the daunting waves that
seem impenetrable
overbearing and
destructive
yet i swim
the only options available
are to go on or die
to use my strength
my patience and energy
in hope of reaching
that heavenly shore
doing nothing but swimming
until i get there
or i could give in
and let the waves win
in the water
the rain falls, the currents
pull this way and that
but i keep on paddling
because that's all i know how to do
and when i get to shore
what i imagined to be
bountiful
beautiful
full of hope and promise
is just a barren land of despair
and i fall to my knees
wondering what i'd done to come here
and knowing it is too late
for things to get better

what is text
but simply
words on a screen
a combination of
lines and curves
to form words

making meaning out of nothing
that is what we do
we make language
out of these arcane symbols
and attach meanings to them
that aren't there

two people can read something
and interpret completely different things

you always say hello
and you say we're soulmates
but why does it feel like we've already said goodbye?

she says
she's not a poet
but i find her poems
to have more meaning
more beauty, more heart
to them than mine
and the way
she uses her words
can change how a person is feeling
from sad to happy
just with a couple of phrases
knitted together

she says
she's not a good writer
but those early morning
last minute essays
of pure adrenaline and
half-awake thoughts
present ideas
in such a way
that it's impossible
to find them anything
but perfect

she says
she's not sure
what her future will bring
but i know her
she's smart
and she's
so wonderfully stubborn
that wherever she may end up
she will go farther
than anyone could have ever imagined
including me
i can't predict exactly where she'll be
in 4 months
or 4 years
but i know her path will go
down the most bountiful roads
and in the end
she'll be happy
and all will be worth it

she says
she's not grateful
but almost everything she does
she does for others
she loves her parents
and hurts when they hurt
she realizes what they do
for her, and wants to make them
the proudest parents on earth
she loves her friends
and tries to make them better

she says
she's a relationship whisperer
and i guess she's right
because with a few choice words
gentle nudges and an onslaught
of appreciated suggestions
she whispered us together

she says
that the dark spots on the sun
can bring shadow
to the most brilliant light
but not even
the dark of endless night
can dim her brightness
or hide her from those
who see her for who she is
who see her potential

she doubts herself
sometimes she thinks
she won't succeed,
always worried
that what she's done
isn't enough
or that there's too little time
to get everything done
but no matter the odds
no matter what she's up against
she pushes through
she persists, she fights
and she gets what she wants
or as close to what she wants
as is actually possible
sometimes she even achieves the impossible
and it's nothing if not admirable
showing me that anything is possible
proving to me that
"You could rattle the stars
You could do anything
If only you dared"
not by anything i've done
but by everything she's accomplished

she says
she's not beautiful
true, she's not a model
but that doesn't mean she's not perfect
but the way those eyes shine
like earth kissed by spring rain
promising life and happiness,
mirrored by her wide smile
though not often seen,
just one smile from her
is like a ray of sunshine
through grimy windows
bringing light into a place
that knew nothing but darkness,
warm enough to melt the walls
surrounding the coldest of hearts

somehow,
sometimes
she says she's ugly
possibly due to the scars
dotting her arms and her back
scars which started years ago
but on the contrary
i think they just enhance her
they make her more human
each one a reminder
that she's been through
countless things in her life
but instead of giving up
instead of giving in
she's come through,
a lump of carbon
forged by the fires
of her world
and the pressure of
her surroundings
the pressure of life
and came out
the most precious of diamonds
not the biggest
but the most wonderful of all
with small flecks of imperfections
that make it shine all the brighter

i say
she's often right,
but the subject
becomes herself
and she's far from the truth
she's absolutely wonderful
and in my eyes
perfect
a perfect person
and a perfect friend
the most beautiful woman on earth
mentally and physically
and there's nobody else
i'd rather love

in economics
prices go up
easier than they go down

but i find
with emotions
it's quite the opposite

it's much easier
for everything to fall
to crash down into disrepair
and never be the same

there are hills
and there are valleys
you can always tell
when you're down,
down in the valley
overshadowed by the
high walls
dotted with uncertainty
like weathered footholds
until finally you walk out
for each ballet has
an ending
but you're not truly free
when all you can think of
are the walls that stand
no longer
so without meaning to
you end up
right where you started
back in the valley
a vicious cycle
that never seems to end

you walk in
expecting a warm welcome
or something
moderately normal
but there it is
the wall
it can easily be removed
if they tried
but no
they ignore it
and expect you to climb over it
or they just
they throw you against it
over
and over
and then when you put one up
just once, when you really
had no choice
or just wanted to feel special
they try to tear it down
and shame you for it
they're always putting up walls
i can't tell what's worse
when they can easily remove it
but won't
or when they can't

when
                                  I   lie
   in                   bed    
i         find                                        
                                              it
               ­     hard
       to                       stay
             focused
  on
                         nothing
         and    
                   sleep
  
i                   think
    way  
                                      too
                 much

i woke up this morning
on the wrong side
of the bed
which is my fault
it's my fault i'm overworked
it's my fault i'm stressed
it's my fault i can't sleep
it's my fault it takes time
      to finish everything i have
it's my fault for everything
i can't stop
i can't slow down
i can't get upset
  when things are unfair
i can't  b  r  e  a  t  h  e
but worst of all
i'm seventeen
and i can't act my age
i'm told i am young
yet i cannot be young
so go ahead
keep saying you told me so
when you never did
keep blaming me for
all my faults
i won't be here much longer
to hear it

there's nothing wrong
there's nothing they can see
they can't figure it out
not because it's not there
not because it's difficult
it's because they don't want to believe
that they made a mistake
that they made me
the mess I am

why is it
that you complain
that i'm working
all the time
and I do nothing but work
yet when i get home
the first words you tell me
rather than hello
is a list of things that need doing?

how come
you complain
that i'm not a happy person
that i don't smile enough
that i feel pain
both emotional and physical
yet when you find out
you are the cause
of many of my problems
you turn away?

how is it
that you command me
to do my work
quickly and efficiently
yet when I ask
for something so simple
that will let me work harder
in a shorter time
with better results
you deny me?

why is it
that you always talk
about a future of mine
of romance and
of love and
of happy days
and opportunity
yet when i ask
for those things you say I deserve
you shake your head sternly
and say no?

how come
each day
you tell me
school is the priority
and that nothing else matters
yet when i say myself
that i am nothing more
than the value of my gpa
you say that
it simply isn't true

why is it
when i ask how it isn't true
when i ask whet else is there to me
than my grades
and the hours i have
from community service
you have nothing to say?

why is it
you're always complaining
but you never listen
to the solutions
to your own problems?

i don't want to be your problem
but you're making me into one

i sit here
staring at a blank screen
with the word poem
staring back at me

i sit here
unsure what i'm
supposed to be doing
my face reflected
in the dimly lit screen

i know i want to write
but i don't know what else
and the words that usually flow
aren't here
and i'm not quite sure
if it's because i have nothing to say
or because i'm just
tired of it all today

i know what i'm saying
i can see myself saying it
but i don't know if i should
i really shouldn't
but i can't stop myself
and that seems to be my problem

i don't know how to start
or i can't bring myself to start
but once i've started
i can't stop

these words flow
from my mind to my fingertips
almost as if there was no filter
nothing stoping my words
making me think
and it's only after i hit enter
that i realize
i should not have said that
written that
meant that
wanted that

things aren't as they used to be
these are thoughts i should not be having
but i can't seem to stop myself
the thoughts are too wonderful
and i've had too many dark ones
to keep these at bay
but in order to be
what i'm supposed to be
i have to stop them somehow
but it's hard
because i don't want to

see

this started as a poem
and it became a rant
because my thoughts are flowing
like tears down the cheek
of my past self
crouched in a stairwell
my stairwell
well, our stairwell
when where was a we
to make it ours
but really, we never existed, did we?

it was just a dream
a fantasy
flirts and words through a screen
and a couple rebellious actions
fueled by love, and adoration
but that dream has to end

these thoughts must stop
though i don't want them to
they must stop
as if i were still
staring at this screen
with nothing to say

there's that strange spot
between a rock and a hard place
where one feels a restless immobility
and feels comfortable with inadequacy

when you're too young to be listened to
too young to be respected
too young to be responsible
too young to be understood
and too young to be free

but also too old to be irresponsible
too old to be childish
to old to make mistakes
too old to enjoy yourself
and too old to be free

so when am i supposed to enjoy
life
which they call a gift?
i don't feel very gifted
if i don't get to choose how i live