Keep your soft soul
it’s very delicate and pure
Stay gentle with yourself so you don’t feel pain when going through guilt
Remain kind to people who have done you right in life
And most importantly
don’t let the ugly truth of the future
make you feel bitter in the present

For I have discovered how our future looks and now my eyes feel deceived

Even though I’m smart enough to understand many things
I absolutely love to act dumb sometimes
It helps me see people’s real motives, intentions, and personal values when they are alone with me
It’s like playing a game of who slips their words up the most
Whoever loses gets to be seen as who they really are in the inside
And I’ve never lost once

It’s kinda funny
How some people would consider themselves “grownups”
Until it is time to
Communicate
Apologize for their actions
Accept accountability
Or rather yet just tell the truth
It’s only then their “grown” selves would release a childlike tantrum
And play the victim cover up their childish crimes

It’s somewhat ironic to know that no one likes to admit that their wrong at times

When it comes to expressing myself
I am incapable of doing so
If you were to tell me to describe how I feel today
In a expressive manner
You would just end up feeling disappointed in the ending result
Because in my definition emotions are just a bunch of puzzle pieces inside my head
describing those emotions is impossible for me to comprehend
I can’t tell you if I’m happy
Sad
Mad
Or even terrified
But I do hope one day
you’ll understand how I feel
without me trying to jumble my words around trying to find you the right answer

When I lay down on my bed
With my eyes glued to the ceiling
I can sense his presence near
He lurks around my room
And he won’t go away
His body is a shadow
But his eyes are bloodshot red
He wear's a long trench coat that reaches to the ground
And has a fedora on his head
As I tilt my head to the side
I can see him stop in place
He stares at me immediately
We stayed staring at each other for a while
Until he slowly disappears like smoke
I tilt my head back to the ceiling
What was running through my head was that he didn’t try to harm me and I’m glad
But knowing that this wasn’t the first time he showed up at nights like this
I wonder when he’ll stop appearing again

Someone once told me
where do I see myself in the next 10 years
and I told them
that I'll either become a billionaire
covered with riches and thousands of dollars
mesmerized by other ****** wealthy people
or
become a member of a random cult
mesmerized by a theory that a snob has put inside my head
and covered with a "good outcome " and "safety from the cruel society "

it was either during middle school or junior high school
honestly, I can't remember
my English teacher told us to write a poem
didn't matter if it was long as a railroad station
or short as a pathway shortcut
"Just write" she said
she gives me a piece of paper and pencil
and told me a few examples that I can use for my first poem
but one example sparked my interest
"You can write about your favorite color" she said
so, with that in mind I start to begin writing
I wrote about the color blue
and things that have that color in it:
the sky
ocean waves
blueberry muffins
blue jays
sadness and sorrow
depression and numbness
the pain of being found guilty
the feeling of emptiness
being left alone
and showing signs of loneliness

I went on and on until my fragile hand started to cramp
but when I reached the end of my poem
I realized something very peculiar
blue wasn't my favorite color
yet I had presented blue in a way far more than just a “primary” color
When I submitted it to my teacher
she said that she loved it and gave me a good grade
later, when I got my paper back
I reread it a few times
crumbled it up to a ball
and chucked it into the nearest trash can
hoping that no one would find it