If you know, you know. If you don’t, ignore this.

**** manga is good too.

Ok, so here is a lesson on IT. There’s a networking transmission model called the OSI model. It has seven layers on either side of a communication. Here they are:

1. Application (creates data to send)
2. Presentation (translates data into sendable data)
3. Session (establishes and terminates communication sessions)
4. Transport (identifies what is being transported (how to handle it))
5. Network (creates a path across networks)
6. Data link (creates a path across the local network)
7. Physical (cables and stuff)

That’s the sending end. The receiving end is the inverse. I formatted each line to each process in the layer, and used the layer number to define how many syllables in the corresponding line. I honestly find IT networking communications a really intriguing subject. The best way to explain the OSI model is by using the mail system and letters as an example.

Not about the action of "becoming one" more about a confession between two lovers who were oblivious to the other's feelings. You know, Romeo and Juliet is not really a tragedy, they got to meet each other in hell.

I am largely independent. I hate relying on people or even things. One of my pet peeves is when people assume I can’t do something on my own.

If you’ve read my previous poetry I reference glass as an immaculate barrier. If not, no worries because I explained what was necessary.

I’m kind of a bad person. I wanted to try using a photo of me as my pfp but could not. I hide under this mask to protect myself from what? Harmless people. Honestly, Adrian isn’t even my name, it’s just a pen name. I’m Aidan, nice to meet you.

I thank you for your time.

The title has nothing to do with the poem, just the song I was listening to (“Faith”, by Limp Bizkit).

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.

Usually I'd be mad or frustrated in times like these, but this time I want to cry (well duh).

Needs improvement. Written on a whim.

I abbreviated family to fam to fit the 5-7-5

I know it’s a bit childish for a 16 Y.O., and especially one who never admits this stuff, but I’m actually really afraid rn and probably won’t sleep.

inspired by Macbeth. I was thinking along the lines of talking about solely Duncan, and how he was just livestock to feed Macbeth's upcoming reign.

Started writing about Christmas, zoned out somewhat, finished the poem, looked back and asked myself how I ****** up a cheery Christmas poem so much. Also, sorry if the term in the last line offends anyone.

I considered renaming it The Big Picture, but then the poem’s context wouldn’t make sense. Does anyone else name their poems before writing them or am I just weird?

Thoughts, lovely thoughts.

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.

One I wrote a while ago, watching a fire go at a Christmas party reminded me of it.

I tried to write.

What happened? At the turn of a dime I’m suddenly leaving the winter behind. Sure there’s still a chill of my self harm tendencies to haunt my early spring, but what happened to me?

I’ve noticed that’s it’s hard to write a love poem while in a relationship. That has nothing to do with the poem. Just something I noticed.

More driving, this time I skipped rocks out to an unusually calm ocean. Almost no waves at all.

Treat others the way you would like to be treated. I have long ago forgiven you, but I won’t forget you. You have not forgiven, and you will not forget. What more do I have to do to set things right?

I wish there was snow on the ground.

Someone’s probably made this connection into a poem already, but think of this in terms of life and what comes with age.

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

;) so that means in all of March I’ve been rejected 3 times, one of which I probably shouldn’t count.

Also I just realized that I have 72 followers. Thank you, you amazing 72 people! (I thought I still had 49)

Meant to be a poem about how I pose some questions in my poetry and that these questions are ones I fear to vocalize. I might’ve missed my target, who knows besides all of you folks.

Ugh, my mind outruns my rational thought every time. I reflect on how she was nice to me today, but she’s just nice, and I thought I didn’t like her like this anymore.

There’s always that one person.

When there’s a will, There’s a way. I really want to keep the word love off of the top of the list though. I am in belief that I will do it.

I’m sorry. It’s my fault you’re this way. Nothing can repay a ruined life besides another. I wish you a wonderful life, Aasiyah. I hope I’m less of a villain in the next one. I’m being truthful here, I know you never want to see me again and I’m not sure if you’ll read this, but I’m sorry for all my lies, my ****, my lust. I know i was the one who came out unscathed. Unfair, right? I’ll make it fair. Don’t expect to hear from me again.

"Just listen to the noises / Null and void instead of voices"
from 'Through Glass' by Stone Sour

I’ll be fine. And even if I’m not, there are sharp metal sticks of fun, that will make me fine.

My great grandmother, one I never met, used to say “If you want a hole dug, grab a shovel!“ which means if you have a dream, work towards it.

Oh god, it is all too many times where I’ve stopped myself from doing stuff... things even as simple as saying hi to anyone.

ugh, I don't like that title, but it's the best I could think of.

A little lighthearted poem from my heavyhearted mind.