I can't write
I actually physically can't
OK
OK how about, something with flowers
Not like that's been done 1000000000 times
I swear to god anymore similes and I will

punch

my

own

esophagus

This is terrible
OK ummm
Fish tanks?
Fish tanks aren't all that poetic
I can't think of anything
I think I'm dried up
Like an empty...
Fish tank
******
Wait a minute
What if I just write something about
Not knowing what to write
That would be easy
It also explains why this *****
******

My copacetic life:
Boring, plain, safe.
I am only resting and waiting
To just stop existing
I never waited for you
Or the fear you instill to me
Because why would I
Angel/Devil
I do not know you
But I want to

I feel like my poems have just become a list of complaints but how can I find the beauty in this storm?
No church has ever heard as many prayers as that hospital room that night.
Your life hung in the house like a crucifix or an old family photo.
HOW DID YOU EXPECT ME TO GET THROUGH THIS?????
Did you think your absence would make anything better?
It hurts.
It's killing me.
You left in paragraphs. You said I'd be fine.
But when you left you took me with you.
Now my bathroom floor knows more about me than I do.
Now I see you everywhere. In the halls, in your sister's eyes, our coffee shop. oh God that coffee shop.
Your presence still paints the walls there.
The coffee isn't strong enough anymore.
All I taste is you.

We were young back then
whenever you had problems
i was your shoulder to cry on
your boyfriend treated you like number two
i treated you like there was only you
it hurts me every time you forgave him for his ****
but that's all he treated you as, ****
while i sat on the sidelines watching you cry
giving you advice that you never even try
why? are ******* attractive?
he ingests laxative
then what comes out of it, you believe it in an instant
you are part of the reason why i became so distant
i loved you so ****** bad
it was too late when i learned that you did loved me back
but that's all in the past
i'm just here imagining all the perfect times we could've had

Tuesday and Wednesday is a blur;
I have not slept in between
I do not have the luxury of
Having a rendezvous with my bed

Tuesday and Wednesday is a blur;
And you are its perfect metaphor:
Viciously fast and vague
But I know a vice when I see one

Tuesday and Wednesday is a blur;
I'm weeding vices out one by one
Like coffee and/or cigarettes,
You taste so good

What keeps you up at night?
is it that your crush will never like you back?
or those assignments that your teacher keeps riding your *** about are due tomorrow
or the fact that your life will never be in tact
and you will always be filled with sorrow.
Mine is nothing, nothing keeps me up at night.
That feeling of nothingness
nothing is what separates me from dreams and reality
nothing is what we all are
nothing is what i am
I am nothing

the black night shines bright through my eye sight
the bright lights doesn't amaze me in this time of night
dark matter is what i'm surrounded by as i write
as i stand idly by while darkness consumes my mind
it's slowly eating me alive, why? because it's savoring every bite

I can tell how vulnerable you are
And I will tell you that I do
I will lay my hands on your scars
And caress all the way through
Where it aches
Starts and ends

I will tell you that you can trust me
And I'll promise that you could
You will be wrapped by fear
But I will kiss it goodbyes too
You'll forget
And feel safe

At night you will have nightmares
I will stay by your side for nothing
You sleep without a word to say
And I stay awake just looking
You will leave
I hope not

I will be everything you look for
You'll feel that you are home with me
But the things I once foresaw
Does not include you staying here
You'll promise
And break it