I’m still tired. Wrote what came to mind. I didn’t edit this at all and I haven’t reread it yet. How is it?

I’m tired. About looking into yourself and how when you question the morality of your actions, your actions question your morals or something. I’m too tired to explain it well, sorry.

About anything that seems good at first, especially this break from school due to the 2019-nCoV epidemic.

There’s always that one person.

Have you ever noticed that? bridges tend to never be destroyed by humans in offense, but they have been in defense, for example, the British destroyed bridges in Belgium during WWI to stop the German advance. It was also a sole Belgian fort that was captured by the Germans and was used to destroy many of the other forts around it (there was a big gun). In case you are unfamiliar with the symbolism, bridges represent connections and relations. Walls represent isolation and integrity on one's own (in my mind).

Written and tuned to a happy acoustic song. I can’t sing for the life of me, but it’s done in a happy voice.

It’s an attempt.

It irritates my interest (that’s basically what “piques my interest” means), and irritates me, but I really do enjoy listening to others talk about their relationship, good or bad times. Is it a bit creepy, or do others feel that way too?

When the sun finally sets
The sky will turn black,
But morning is just ahead.
And the sun should come back.

Am I really alive or not? What should I be questioning besides me, the only thing in which I have a right to question?

If I had a window that could let me get to my roof, I’d be up there a lot. I think we’ve all had a fear of the dark’s unknowns.

I’ve never been great at narrative writing, but I thought I’d try my hand at it once more.

What kind of connection might I be talking of? People, emotions, life, or etc?? And how many licks does it take to get to the tootsie roll center of a tootsie pop?? The world may never know.

I’m not sure if you can come out of that though. All I know is that I felt a need to retaliate. I thought of bringing death to those who left me forsaken. No guilt, just righting wrongs. Only a brief remembrance of how harming others has repercussions stopped me.

It always seems that it's my **** insensitivity that hurts others. After not being able to connect with any emotion from others or even feel any within myself for 4 years, I still find it hard to ascertain what others feel, so I end up taking up the wrong tendencies, saying the wrong words. All of these little things hurt people and the closer I get, the less I notice it, the less sharp I become to their pain, and I hurt them even more. Sometimes I wish I could drop this entire connection to people once more. It would make things much easier. I could then fake everything because I don't feel anything and that would be fine because I wouldn't feel any guilt. But I can't.

icen, like icy but en. I find it odd to have an adjective ending in "Y" to be in the middle of a line. It does not sound right or proper to me. I feel it belongs more at the end of lines.

If you want to figure out what it's about, don't read this. It's about a sickly king dealing with a "god" whether it was an actual God, Devil, or coincidence, and a fire burns through the city, freeing slaves and righting all of his other misdeeds as emperor.

**** it. I’m gonna write what I want to read, not what I think others want to read (this is not what that last line was about, that last line’s about smth else)

The sunset does indeed happen in mere minutes.

A little lighthearted poem from my heavyhearted mind.

He said I couldn’t hit on him tho. Which kinda ***** because that’s my form of humor.

A mix of me denying being gay and just being lost in a stagnant world.

I’m glad they don’t bother to worry about me. Saves them time an emotion as well as saves me from excessive guilt.

glassen is not a word (duh) but I made it a word. It means glass-like, as the narrator cannot define something so large and smooth as a wall of glass, it wouldn't make sense to him.
siftless: (adjective) without sift (another made up word)

I know it means a metalworks, but foundry also sounds like a place where foundations are made.

Written for someone who needs these words, by someone who can give those words. Don’t give up!

I’m not dead (well obviously), I’ve just been stuck at home and not seeing much new or doing anything wild, so my words are lacking their “power.”

An efficient leader had a “cook book” of his quotes which supported his ideals, and brainwashed the population into getting inspired and “cooking” a masterful industrialized workforce. I mean he was the worst dictator ever to exist (but not the most famous), Mao Zedong.

Stay in touch with those you hold dear, they may fall away from you if you lose contact. I already see this happening to others. Stay strong everyone.

I think the ending’s a bit weak...

A poem of repentance to someone I never want to meet again. I’m afraid of what they’ll say. The words have meaning to them as well, it contributes to my reason of grief all of what happened.

Where has the light gone?

A poem can be short or long. As we learned from Hemingway, stories can even be as short as 6 words. All that matters is that you get your point across.

I have no idea where the idea came from.

It’s to close friends that this poem will never reach, its too embarrassing to send. But I appreciate their willingness to hold on, and held me back from “the final solution.”

Adamy type story I guess. ‘Bout falling for dudes. Bible says **** gays so I say “**** bible” (yes there are passages that say things against gays.) believe in what you will, I won’t judge, but I chose the option that would accept me even just slightly better.

You can’t see the top because it’s blocked by the cliff’s edge. If I had learned this earlier, I’d have given up less.

Tried to get that ***** feel that’s nice to think of.

I wish I could’ve fought back. Then I wouldn’t have been beaten up as much. The name calling was fine, but it wasn’t fun when I’d get beat up day after day.