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Connor Apr 2018
My eyes are closing.
It hurts to keep them open.
I think I'll rest now.
Wish me luck!
Connor Apr 2019
It seems that the American education system values
A's on tests and higher rankings more than
The mental health of the students
who there would be no high rankings
Or A's on tests without.

Everyday I'm trying to lift myself up
Because I see myself as a
horrible, gross, ugly, aggressive,
worthless, useless, clingy, hell-bound person.
I know I am not a completely good person,
But I know that I don't want others to
Feel like I do.

No one should have to feel like
Everyday will come to nothing and
That friends won't miss you and
That people will get over you at some point and
That it wouldn't matter if you killed yourself
Because you don't make a difference.

I want to be there to lift others up
In areas where I can't lift myself and
Just let them know that
It's okay to not be okay, that
Someone loves you and
I will always be one of those people, that
I'll be there even if no one else is, that
If it's 2AM and you're suicidal that
You call me or some kind of hotline
And we'll get this sorted out together.

11% of adolescents will have developed depression
by the time they turn 18.
That is not okay.
Students are reported to Guidance
when something is amiss.
Guidance counselors are there to
help with scheduling and possibly developing
academic and social skills.
They are not knowledgeable about mental health,
and lots of times teens with depression
interact with people less and
as a result lack crucial social skills for
getting jobs that fit the academic goals that
we're told matter so much that
we think that sometimes the letter grades
on paper matter more than the student
who studied for hours to
earn that grade.

1 in 6 high schoolers have solemnly considered suicide
1 in 12 will attempt suicide, that number is increasing.
The education system needs to change
In how they handle mental health.

The world needs to change
How it handles mental health.

It's killing us.
My third and final poem for the slam contest I'm entering! I audition tomorrow and I'm extremely glad that I don't need any of them memorized until the 17th, when we have a dress rehearsal.
I'm sorry it really isn't very good, but I need three by tomorrow at 10AM so yeet
Connor Mar 2018
His breath hitches
He is uncomfortable
His body betrays him
With its lack of arousal.

He wants to want this.
He wants to want her.
But all he can think about is him.
Why has he been cursed?

His father loves him
But he loves God, too.
So if God is love
Why does he hate?

It isn't a choice to love.
It is a choice to hate.
If He loves all
Can't you, too?
A message.. To everyone who says it isn't natural. To those who argue that we 'have to procreate'. To even you, who simply believes its icky.
Connor Dec 2018
Slam the door shut
And push me against
The wall.
Bite and suckle my neck
In-between sloppy kisses
While I whimper softly.
Use my body like an
Instrument you've mastered
Playing.
****** me and smirk when
I melt into your touch,
And bite your lip playfully.
Punish me, keep me teetering
On the edge, begging for release;
Whilst curling your skilled fingers.
Refuse my pleas, force me to wait
Until I have satisfied your desire,
And have filled me completely.
Make me yours, and
No one else's. Suffocate me
In your sinful love.
Something I wrote yesterday.
Connor Feb 2018
On and on like a merry-go-round
my thoughts are drowning in the sound
of a ****** and merciless battleground.
No idea.
C
Connor May 2019
C
These feelings are new, yet I
Feel like I've known this person
Forever.

He knows how to tear me apart,
But he is there to put me back
Together again.

He is like a surprise rainstorm,
I didn't know he was coming,
But I'm glad that he is.

His smile is the sun behind clouds,
I don't appreciate it as much as I should,
because I miss it when it's gone.

He has my heart, my soul,
I have given him everything I have to offer,
Yet he hasn't left, like the others.

He is like a good boomerang,
Unlike my previous ones, he has
Returned to me time and time again.

I love him.
I didn't publish this one for a while, because this particular person has the link to my page and ahhh nope, but I suppose it's time to unearth this one. Thoughts?
Connor Mar 2018
Burning hot liquid
Snaps me out of morning gloom
Fogs up my glasses.

It travels down my
Throat, filling me with caffeine.
A warm sensation.
Two haiku style stanzas. My actual coffee is cold now. Off to the microwave, I go!
Connor Apr 2018
Join me in the present.
Stop looking down on me.
I am human too, regardless
Of my ****** orientation,
My race,
My religion or
My gender.

Come with me, to the present,
Where we are all equal.
To a place where we're all human regardless
Of our ****** orientation,
Our race,
Our religion or
Our gender.

Come to the Present.
Its 2018, come on! People are gay, people are black, people believe in different god(s) morals/values than you, and it doesn't matter what your gender is, whether you're cisgender, nonbinary, trans masculine, or whatever!
Connor Mar 2019
I feel like life is just a pill I can't seem to swallow,
Swimming in my mouth, bitter, disgusting, I wallow
My first attempt at a couplet.
Connor Jul 2019
The weight of your lover as you're cuddling,
Their usually tense body so relaxed and
comforting, the slight pressure of them on
You makes you feel so safe.
The almost subconscious movement of your
Fingers as you run them through your lover's hair,
The pleasant texture of soft hair
And the occasional appreciative groan
Keeps you from stopping.
The sound of their quiet breathing is
Slow and steady, and you,
Being half awake, mimic their
Breathing pattern as best you can to try and
Sync with them as their chest
Rises and falls against your body.
The full feeling of being completely warm
Makes you never want to move from
This exact position for a long time,
It's addicting.
I have found that I am almost always craving cuddles now that I know how amazing it feels to cuddle with someone you love a lot.
Connor Aug 2018
Waking up to gentle music,
The sound of birds chirping.

          c      R   u          N    c         H

CrUnCh
                
                    cRuNcH

C    r          U             n      C h


Taking a morning stroll,
Watching leaves fall.

    .  in     .        .

.   out   .    .

          .    . in        .

   .   . out   .

Enjoying the voiceless morning
As the sun rises from slumber.
._.   I don't know
Connor Mar 2018
Have you ever dreamt of a new day
Where all around are fields of green
Rather than boring buildings if grey?

Ever believed in a future in which
The beating hearts of humans
Were not black as pitch?

To have thought, in your heart
Just for a second, maybe,
That in a healthy world, we'd take part?

Its all futile, Miss
To attempt to fix the Earth
For she's already fallen into the Abyss.
An old poem I made late at night, edited to standard.
Connor Sep 2023
“I don’t know if anyone could ever love me,” you say.

“Don’t you see how I worship you?” I scream with my thoughts, but you can’t hear me anyway. I debate, asking you, whispering in your ear.

Instead, I am silent, unsure of how to comfort you. I don’t want to tell you that I love you, not yet.

So I close my eyes and trace my fingers along the lines of your jaw, cheeks, nose, and eyebrows.

I touch you like one would handle a porcelain teacup. You could break if I don’t think about keeping my fingers light as I follow the fine craftsmanship all across your back.

I don’t tell you the words of praise and admiration I trace into your back as you crane into my touch. The body absorbs what the mind cannot fathom.

I place kisses on your belly, the back of your leg, and the places that are never loved. When I love, I want to love all of you truly.

“No one has ever touched me like this, so softly,” you say, and right then I want to burst into tears. How dare they! How dare they not treat you like artisan bread, like a mural in an alleyway, like freshly molded pottery before it enters the kiln.

What a crime it is that you have never known what it is like to be held for the sake of holding, to know touch that has no fine print and no malice.

You quiver and shake when I touch you like the novelty of this feeling is too much. I make a joke about how sensitive you are, so maybe for a moment, the reality of why is just a joke instead of reality. And for a moment, you can cope.

You don’t like being looked at in these intimate moments, so I think about how I would describe your eyes in a poem instead. I’ve had ample opportunities for this, and I have come up with the following:

The sky with just the right amount of clouds, the kind of day with a light breeze that makes you want to pick blueberries.

The first drop of rain. It always seems to land on your face, like a kiss from Mother Nature.

The newest flower on an orchid plant, only a bud the day before. It is the same color you want at our wedding. It feels like such a far-off thing to me, a vague concept, but to you, it feels like the Save the Dates have just been sent in the mail.

The rest are a bit much.



I remember to massage your toes, the ball of your foot, the arch, the heel. You don't like feet, including your own foot, but I am here to love the parts of yourself that you can't love.

I pray to you in my thoughts that you can feel my love through my thumbs rubbing healing circles into your tense shoulders. That somehow, my actions will help you remember what a divine being you are, a god with amnesia.

What are you the god of? I think, maybe, that you are the god of moments. Humorous glances from across an aisle, Dutch ovens, singing too loud on night car rides, vicious tickle fights that end in sweet kisses, interrupting each other at work, finishing each other's thoughts and sentences, taking my glasses off when I fall asleep with them on, tiny routines that are barely considered routines but are done almost without thinking all the same.

I, for the first time, feel seen by a deity. There is no higher power, no sin. There is no wrong. There is only the reverence I give to you, that is expelled by every cell in my body, that consumes every waking thought.

There is you, and there is me. There is us. And that is enough.

Don't you know I worship you?
Hi. It's been a while.
Connor Mar 2018
Experiment with words
For they are power.
Bend them to your will
To fulfill your desire.

For words are strong
And make you stronger
Some are long
And others are longer.

Make them feel special
For no two are alike.

But use them at your expense.
For though they are power,
They can lead to your demise
Especially when you don't know if they're a
Disguise.
Usually its nonstop writer's block, but not today!
Connor May 2019
His smile is like an
Evening on the beach.
The waves rising to
Meet our feet,
Tickling our toes.
The breeze flowing,
Sighing as it passes us.
The last birds are
Returning to their
Home and families.
The butterflies in my
Stomach are rumbling
With excitement;
His smile makes my evening.
Kind of trash, kind of cute. It's not about me, but this description I gave makes it sound like it is lol
Connor May 2019
He knows how to tear me apart,
His demanding tone, his eyes of fire,
His skilled fingers, his vicious mouth.

All are instruments of delectable
Torture, made to force me into
Submission, to cater to his every whim.

I have gotten onto my back, as per his request;
The sound of his controlled breathing, and soft
Commands is arousing.

So badly is my desire to submit,
Yet I find myself wanting to
Be naughty. So I do.

My desperation for more of
His mouth causes me to get
Punished; I lose what I crave the most.

Though I know he will not drift
Lower than my belt, I still find my
Stomach clenching when his fingers wander.

The euphoria from his mouth
On my skin, biting me, bruising me,
Is that which I've never experienced.

The sensation of his lips on my
Chest, suckling ferociously, bursting
Blood vessels, marking me... is exhilarating.

The delightful pain from those
Marks remind me that
I am all his.

His eyes, looking into his eyes, is like
Staring into the clearest snow-globe: my eyes will
Linger, wonder, wander, search.

His steady glance is all it truly takes
For me to fall apart, though his words,
Whether they are of sunlight or of flames...

Consume me entirely.
For my boyfriend Cy.
Connor Apr 2018
Dear friend,
You will never
Read this.

I want to voice
My feelings.

I don't know
What to call
Them.

But they're there,
Tired and true.

And try all I might
To interpret them,
I can't put my finger on it.

Maybe I have a crush on you,
I honestly have no clue.

All I know is when
You make me laugh,
I feel free and content.

When we're talking,
It feels as if no one else exists.

And though we share
No classes with each other,
I feel like we're never apart.

I would say you're always on my mind,
But I don't know if I'm allowed to say that.

When I met you, we clicked.
We're both transgender,
And have been called *****.

Our parents think its a phase,
When we know its not.

Our friends go back and forth
With our pronouns, but we
Get each other's right.

We send each other
Stupid videos.

We laugh to try and fill
The void, and to forget
That people don't take us seriously.

And I waited for you when you
Were in the hospital for 10 days.

I thought it was my fault
That you got stuck there,
Though I had nothing to so with it.

I only wish you would open
Up to me more, I want to help you.

Just know that I think you're cool,
And ARE a boy, not lesbian,
And that you'll make it someday.

Best wishes.
Your friend.
basically a rant.
Connor Jan 2019
The warmth of a mug full of that new coffee,
Keeping you from feeling completely numb.
Hold on.

The embrace of the sun's rays as it wakes from its slumber,
Greeting you with a smile as it wakes the flowers, too.
Hold on.

The touch of a hand settling over yours,
Bringing you back to the present.
Hold on.

The wet nose of your dog brushing up against your arm,
Urging you to take them for a morning stroll.
Hold on.

The familiarity of the sidewalk and texture of the leash,
Inspiring you to look at your surroundings.
Hold on.

The welcoming sight of jessamines,
Enveloping you with a vivid yellow.
Hold on.

The sense of home given by that fragrant stew,
Rewarding you for taking that journey outside.
Hold on.

The threat of never experiencing these again,
Commanding you to burn the rope, put the stool away.
Hold on.

The distinct sound of the gears shifting as you type away,
Writing a poem of perseverance and hope.
Hold on.
Someone once told me, "I realized that I didn't want to die, I just wanted my life as I knew it to end." Please, hold on and don't let go,W.
Connor May 2019
Green is the nature around us
Green is the drip drip drip of morning dew off trees
Green sounds like leaves rustling through the wind
Green is like the ominous forest at midnight, watching
Green tastes like the bittersweet nature of life
Green is the Slytherin flag Symbol
Green looks like the tobacco plants billowing in the wind
Green is the atomic screams of green parrots
Green feels like the luck of the Irish
Green is the crunch of crispy Chartreuse apples
Green smells like freshly cut grass
Green is the breathing trees through the days
Green is like a cow grazing in a field
Green is the color of Glowing Ones in Fallout
Green is the color of the melons I grow.
Here's a poem that was created by me and three of my classmates- including my boyfriend :)
I don't know how I'm supposed to bring a melon to school as a prop but I guess I'm doing that.
Connor Apr 2018
There's a burning feeling in my gut,
A heavy feeling in my heart.

I have no title for these feelings.

I may just be hungry,
Or am aroused.

But I don't believe myself to be.

They say a heart's a heavy burden,
especially when you're in love.

I wonder if that is what I am experiencing?
Its five minutes past midnight, and I can't sleep. Thank goodness for poetry!
Connor Mar 2018
You can convince yourself
That you can survive
But deep down, you know
Love is needed to thrive.

You can tell yourself
That you can forget
But you know you'll always
Remember the day you met.

You can say to yourself
There wasn't a spark
Because you won't accept
That someone left a mark.
I found this among other old things. I thought I'd put it online :)
Connor Oct 2019
I don't understand how someone so strong
Could think they are so weak
When they deal with way more bull
Than anyone should ever deal with.

I don't understand how someone that handsome
Could think they are that much of an abomination
When they have hated themselves way more
Than anyone should be hated, particularly him.

I don't understand how someone so amazing
Ended up so strong
So self-loathing
So anxious
So depressed
So misplaced
So disadvantaged.
For a person who does not deserve the things they are going through right now.
Connor Mar 2018
Today I was seduced
By a demon of pleasure.
Who made me feel things
I've never experienced before.

Who took me to places
I never thought I'd know.

He made me feel,
And made me forget
All things other
Than pure pleasure.

I have been deflowered
And have never felt better.

But I am sore
And my sheets
Are ***** with
Evidence of lost virginity.

I have love marks
All over.

My neck
My collarbone
My inner thighs
And my chest.

Today I have been seduced
By a demon of pleasure.

Who made me forget things
And made me feel better.
Connor Nov 2018
Butterflies in my
Stomach,
Stars in my
Eyes.
A grin on your
Face--
You are my
Demise.
New feelings ahhhh
Connor Mar 2019
Two people come together and deepen their connection,
But love isn't just a feeling, and we can't make decisions
Based solely off of the level of dopamine or oxytocin in the body
At the current point in time.
Emotions aren't reliable.
Love is a choice based off of emotions.
If you no longer see that spark
In their eyes, love them and be with them,
Make the ******* choice to stay
Until you see that spark again.
Soulmates don't exist,
There is no perfect person.
Don't ignore their faults,
Accept them and acknowledge them for existing,
Appreciate that you have someone as
Amazing as them.
Is that so hard to
Understand?
basically  an edited rant. I'm sorry.
Connor Apr 2018
Define pain
And what it has done to you.
It has made you
Who you are.

It makes
Or breaks us.

It opens doors
We thought were closed.

Why do we neglect pain
If it makes us who we are?
I don't know. I myself have low tolerance for pain.
Connor Apr 2019
LGBT.
You may have never heard of this acronym before,
Or maybe you associate it with liberals, or Obama,
Or hippies.
LGBT stands for:
Lesbian:
I was approached by a straight man
At a gay bar, who asked me if
I wanted to 'have a good time'.
I told him no.
I could see something in his eyes
Flicker, and he asked me why
I told him I only liked women
In that regard
He stood up angrily,
And told me that I was an
Ugly dke anyway.

LGBT stands for
Gay:
I was holding hands with
My boyfriend while
We were walking in the park.
We watched an older woman
Walk up to us and say,
"You're going to hell."
I said, "I'll see you there,"
She glared at me before
Storming off in a rage,
mumbling, "Disgusting f
g."
On her way.

LGBT stands for
Bisexual:
I came out to my family today.
My cousin said,
"You're just confused."
My father said,
"Don't you dare walk in
My house with a f*ggot."
My mother said,
"Pick a side."
My supposed "friends" said,
"You're just desperate and greedy."
I've been dating an amazing person
That I can never share if I want to
Stay on good terms with "family".

LGBT stands for
Transgender:
I binded my chest today
With Ace bandages even though
I know it's extremely unsafe
Because I didn't want to be
Seen as a girl again.
I finally cut my own hair
And when I told my mom why
She told me,
"Leave before your father gets home."
I am sleeping on my friend's couch tonight
Because my parents couldn't accept me
As their son.

You might associate the acronym LGBT
With liberals.
Liberals that don't use their religion as an
Excuse when they're really just scared.
Or Obama who said, "No one in America
Should be scared to walk down the street
Holding the hand of the person they love."
Or hippies who refuse to conform to
Heteronormativity, because it only matters
That you love, the who or when or where or why or
How
Doesn't matter nearly as much.
People are more than their secondary ***
Characteristics.
"Love thy neighbor as thyself", right?
My second slam poem for a local contest that's coming up, about to write the second one, I'm auditioning tomorrow and I'm excited!
Connor May 2019
I love you.

I love you more than I do rainy days
Because rainy days aren't as much fun
When I don't get the pleasure of cuddling you.

I love you more than I do chocolate
Because no amount of sugar amounts
To the amount of sweet you are.

I love you more than I do reading
Because your words seem to unravel me
Much more than words on paper.

I love you more than I do writing
Because without you, I wouldn't have
As much inspiration to write with.

I love you more like Sleepy loves sleeping
Because you get quite sappy
When I keep you up late enough.

I love you like a bee loves flowers
Because without you, my life wouldn't be
Nearly As colorful.

I love you like a child loves blankets
Because you give me comfort,
Warmth, and security.

I love you like a comedian loves laughter
Because you help me know that I'm wanted
And worthy of your time.

My love for you runs deep,
Like the roots of the holm tree
We'll become.
For him :)
Connor Dec 2018
The wind is knocked out of me
When I see you walk into the room.
Wearing my old sweatshirt;
A mug full of hot cocoa
In your small hands.I'm
My heart flutters, my face
Feels hot when you settle
Onto my lap.

I am entranced by your focused gaze,
My hand at home on your hip,
Tracing slow circles into your skin.
A smile on my lips when your breath
Catches; and you lean into me.
This sensation of your body against
Mine is comforting.

The movie has faded
Out of my memory,
But you remain.
I like this one :))
Connor Apr 2018
She sits in a
Room by herself.

Her dad's at a bar, cheating
While mom is getting high.

After dinner
She hears them
Fighting again.

She covers her ears
Hoping it ends soon.

She hears him slap her.
She hears mom's whimpers.

Footsteps are storming
Up, up the stairs,
Getting closer.

They stop.
They have gone to bed angry.

A nice man picks her up
From school the next day.

He gives her sweets,
A warm blanket, and
Even a coloring book.

He takes her to a
Strange building.

He sweeps her off her feet,
And strolls into the building.

As it turns out,
He was a policeman,
Her parents were arrested.

Her dad looks at her
His eyes glassy.

Goodbye, they say.
She never saw them again.

She loves her new home
Where she is loved
And never forgotten.
A story about an neglected little girl. I bet you guys thought she got picked up by a ****, huh? That's what I was aiming for :)
Connor Apr 2018
I've been having disturbing dreams
That make me question reality.

They take me to a place
Beyond comprehension.

I am a criminal, with my
Monkey accomplice, Chester,
Running from an unknown
Enemy, who wants me so badly.

Now I am in a dark place,
And don't know where I am.
All I know is that I'm being
Chased by something, in the dark.

I am now on a dangerous journey
In which my comrades have left me.
Yet I cannot continue as I had
Previously thought I would and could.

These are disturbing dreams
That have made me question reality.

They have taken me to a place
Beyond comprehension.
I had three nightmares in a row the other night, and I don't know what any of them mean, and only could recall 1. The others I mentioned are just there.
Connor Feb 2019
As one grows older,
It is only natural to
Think more often.

But a busy mind
Can wander,
and where does it end up?

Reminiscing over childhood,
Always curious, hands in the mud,
Looking for dung beetles.

Remembering those days
Where teens rode free,
At least until 10 p.m.

Admiring the breathlessness
That is early adulthood,
Sneaking into the corner to kiss.

Examining choices and plots,
Looking over every detail,
Like an author in the dark.

Deciding that events didn't
Always go as planned,
But were perfect, nonetheless.
I entered a poetry recitation competition. I recited April Midnight by Arthur Symons and To Myself by Franz Wright. I didn't win, but I enjoyed it.
Connor Jun 2018
I'm at the bottom of an ocean
Of thoughts,
Looking up at the world
Beyond my cage.

I have seen terrible things
In that world,
And became trapped in my
Own longing and fear.

As much as I desire that
Mysterious world,
I know touching it would
Burn me.

I am tempted by the voices
That i just can't place,
Though I am sure I have
Heard them all before.

They beg me to join them
In their dystopia,
But I am out of their
Reach.
I was reminded of Your Lie in April, and struck inspiration.
Connor Apr 2019
Will I do something wrong?
Did I already do something wrong?
Are they just faking that smile?
Am I actually funny or
Are they sick of me?
Will they leave?
I don't want them to leave.
Please don't leave;
If you leave,
I won't be alone.
I'll be left with nothing but my
Thoughts,
And my thoughts scare me
So much that I avoid
Silence even though I
Hate noise sometimes;
And, I just don't know
How to turn off my
Corrosive thoughts.
It hurts
To be lonely and never alone;
For my constant company,
My thoughts,
Never console me.
They are the reason I
Fear the silence in a room.
They say,
"What have you done wrong?
Why is it silent?
Did you ****?
Do you smell bad?
Is everyone staring?
What's going on?
What did you do
Wrong?"
An insecurity of mine that runs deep within me.
Connor Apr 2018
He doesn't want this to end,
This time they're spending
Together.

He looks so beautiful like this,
Head tilted, lips parted slightly
A pretty pink on his cheeks.

He's drinking peppermint tea
As is his ritual on days
Such as these.

I am indulging in coffee
Loaded with Extra Sweet creamer
And am focused on him.

His glasses bring out his
Jawline.

His gentle laugh lines are so
Welcoming.

There's an irresistible twinkle in his
Eyes.

We cuddled up and watched movies
Many of which made me cry,
Cry into his shoulder.

We shared a blanket that barely
Had room for two people, even
In close proximity.

His body was very warm,
His chest was inviting me
To lay my head on it.

His mouth tastes like peppermint tea.
His lips are as delicate as rose petals.
He is glowing with radiance.

Those days at the gym paid
Off.

His abs bring out his gentle
Curves.

His smooth skin bruises quite
Nicely.
I haven't written anything in a while :) Feels good to be back.
Connor Oct 2019
I'm obsessed with your smile
Your face contorts upwards and
All of the pain and worry washes away
From your eyes and they're so full of love
I worry you love me too much
'Cause I don't know if I can return love of
The same quality that you give so eagerly
To a lowly pauper like me.
For my prince.
Connor Apr 2018
Sometimes I just space out.
It feels like you're leaving your body
To travel far without fatigue.

To travel to surreal places
You think are only in your dreams
But are now standing before you.

I always have fun thinking about
What I would do in those places
And how I'd live my life there.

But there's always a dark corner
That becomes the black hole which
Drags me back to reality.

My fingernails scrape against the ground,
I'm screaming at the top of my lungs and
Flailing my limbs all around.

I cannot escape.

I let go at some point
And fall through the air
To find myself back in my skin.

I'll always visit my daydreams
From time to time, to escape
The prison that is reality.

However, I must stay in reality
For my friends whom I hold dear
And for the next episode of the
Great British Baking Show.
I love baking shows. <333
Connor Oct 2018
The sound of your soft breaths as you sleep,
Your sweet aroma filling my lungs.
The texture of the blanket as I stand up,
Look at how perfectly messy your hair looks,
And go to rid myself of the taste of sleep.
A good night's rest tastes revolting.
Connor Mar 2018
I'm in the shower
Water caressing my skin
Steam clouding my eyes.

I'm cleansing myself
Washing away yesterday.
Awaiting rebirth.

What will I become
In the time before my next
Shower, I wonder?
Connor Apr 2019
Mom,
I love you.

When I was holed up in my room,
Silently dying inside,
You were the one that noticed the
Vacant expression on my face;
You were the one that coaxed me
Outside because you knew how badly
I wanted to feel the sun,
Its warmth, and to simply lay
In the grass under the dogwood tree
Again, the sun's rays
Making my vision go red
While I stare through my closed
Eyes, to be able to feel s o m e t h i n g
For a while.

You were the one offering to
Help with homework when you noticed
My grades dropping to F's and D's,
Even though you barely understood
The material.

You would leave bright orange Post-Its with
Reminders like
"Remember to drink water, you need it" and
"Take a nap, you've earned it" and
"I made your favorite sandwich, you deserve it."
Peanut butter and honey with banana slices-
Our favorite.

I never told you how much I
Loved those Post-Its;
Sometimes the sloppy semi-cursive handwriting
On the blindingly orange paper and
Its loving message were the only
Things keeping me
Going.

You were the only
Thing keeping me
Going.

Your taste in music
Isn't actually that bad.
Some of my fondest memories are
Of you half-singing, half-yelling the lyrics to
"We Will Rock You", your disgustingly contagious
Enthusiasm convincing me to half-sing, half-yell
With you,
While we drove along the highway
At 60 miles an hour.

Sure,
you're almost exclusively into
Queen and Earth, Wind, and Fire,
But I'd jam to "Radio Gaga"
Anytime- as long as you're there
To sing off-pitch with me,
Dancing our way through
Our list of chores,
Watching the music video to
"Take on Me" while
Racing to finish folding the laundry.

And, when the upbeat music
Stops, and it was time for
Little me to sleep,
You would sit by my bedside, and
Lull me off to sleep with
Your take on "You Are My Sunshine", with
Me humming along until I
Drifted into the realm of
Dreams.

I'm listening to your lullaby loop
Over and over and o v e r
In my mind as I
Write this, but the
Temptation of staying to
Listen to your
Heart-wrenching melody just
One more time. . . I can't.

Mom,
I made our favorite sandwich.

Mom,
I love you.

Mom?
Goodbye.
I'm auditioning for a slam poetry contest at my high school, and I have to compose three original slam poems, so here's the first one, which takes up three pages in my notebook.
Connor Mar 2018
They mustn't hear the
Pleasurable sounds your
Partner is making.

They surely would lose
Their appetite.

Though why, you know not.
Big mood
Connor Mar 2018
Your phone makes a pretty
Twinkling sound.

You know its your mother,
But you don't reply.

Rather, you jump off of the stool.
tin - tin - nab - u - la - tion
noun
1. A ringing or tinkling sound.

Ex: The merry tintinnabulation of church bells in the morning.
Connor Feb 2018
Where do our souls go
when  our bodies die?
Are they reincarnated
and reused
or are they awaited
by he who would have abused
them?
Do they go upstairs
to God's room
sitting in waiting chairs
patiently for a new identity to assume?
Oh! How I wonder what occured
to the souls of those before us
and if their safety was assured.
What a topic to discuss!
This poem is pretty ******, but I'm bored so..
Connor Feb 2018
The voices say that I'm a no one,
don't listen to them, your fate's being woven

The voices say that I should give up,
Why don't you tell them there's been a mixup?

They keep telling me my death will come soon,
don't say that, you sound like a loon

They say I can't deal with all of this strife
Perhaps, but that's no reason to end your life!

Their voices are louder, I fear I can't win
You were given Life, to end it would be a sin

Cut by a razor, my blood on the floor,
stop right there, don't open that Door!

Water so pure, now turning red,
it is your soul the voices were being fed.

Visible to me is Heaven's Gate!
Come back now, before its too late!

Angelic voices fill my ears,
I'm sorry you couldn't face your fears.
The pattern is A,B,A,B. The first line of each stanza is one perspective, the person hearing voices, and the second line is the person trying to help them.  I started this poem a while ago and never finished it til now, so please enjoy!
Connor Apr 2018
Do you see me?
I am yelling your name
But you look everywhere
But at me.

We're going to different places
In life, and I wish I could follow
You, and be there for you when
All else fails.

But we have been set
On separate paths, so
I'm afraid we will drift
Away, in the end.

'Twas a pleasure.
A fear of mine.
Connor Jul 2018
I reach out my hand,
But it only goes so far.

I call out your name,
Only to hear an echo.

I am lost to you
And I won't be found.
Another fear.
Connor May 2019
Please don't leave;
You are one of the
Only things keeping
Me going.
Connor Aug 2019
Since the dawn of time,
Man has striven to understand
Why we exist and
How we were created.
We have formulated various
Answers to these burning questions
That are scorched in the minds of men.
An omniscient creator who lives up above,
Powerful beings that run everything from
Weather to fire to death to doors;
An explosion that created all that is known.
It is hard for men to comprehend something other than what
Has been taught to them;
Even those who believe in near indistinguishable concepts
Argue about the little details rather than banding together.
It is the duty of a government to allow this
Despite the unpalatable aspect of it.
We must allow individuals to have their own teachings;
Personal attachments must not come in the way of equality.
We must turn to our neighbors and voice,
"I do not agree with a word you say,
But I will defend to the death
Your right to say it."
We must embrace each other like distant relatives,
We must come together when the sun goes down,
Until dawn comes once more.
A poem I get to write for my history class this year. I enjoy it way more than I should lol
Connor Apr 2018
"Hey, Charles! I won't be back."
His friend yells out before
Continuing to eat the face off
Of the young Latino he had met.

"Ok! I guess I can get home.. Somehow..."
He mumbles to himself, signaling to the
Bartender that he wanted to order
Something off menu.

He pays no attention to the trans
Woman who sits down beside him.
"I'll have a watermelon sangria, please."
he requests softly, but confidently.

The lady by him chuckles,
"Watermelon? That's odd."
Her voice is rich with flavor,
And humor.

"It is odd. But so am I." He mumbles.
"It seems that way, doesn't it? Well,
at least now I can call you Melon
Rather than ask your name!"

"A rather odd nickname for an odd person."
And so their conversation continued.
It became all the more lively once
'Melon' had had a couple rounds.

Both drunk and desperate, they
Kiss passionately in the gay bar,
Paying no heed to the others
Yelling "Get a room!"

Roaming hands.
Stumbling up stairs.
Drunken giggles.
Broken speech.

"You're so beautiful." He whispers.
Skin against skin,
Burning hot,
  Both mad with desire.

Panting.
Groaning.
Moaning.
Ecstasy.

It's late at night.
They manage to call
A taxi, and go home.
Home to Melon's apartment.

The next morning was spent
Drinking ****** Mary's and
Making an account of what
Happened the night before.

That, and more ***.
Hot, ****** ***.
Passionate, lively
And loving ***.

Charles sits up in his bed.
He feels something sticky.
"Oh, that's disgusting!"
****** ***, indeed.

He stands up to clean himself
Off in the bathroom, but he
Hears the shower running.
"Did I get laid last night?"

He peeps into the shower
And sees the woman from
His dream. "Eva?" He asks.
"Who else would it be?"

"Why are you in my apartment?"
Charles exclaims. Eva turns and
Raises an eyebrow at him.
"I live here, Melon."

"Since when? We hooked
Up just last night!"

"Darlin', we've been
married for 4 years!"
I thought this was cute <3
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