I would say,
“Nothing. What about you?”
You would say nothing
Because you don’t know anything
Either.

Thanks for an answer
That’s all I can ask for
When “knowledgeable” people
Don’t tell me anything
Thank you for answers
Thank you for hearing me
Thank you for listening
And not talking as much.

“don’t make yourself
small for anyone,”
You say to me.
i say nothing but i
think to myself,
“i used to be larger than life,
i used to be big as the house,
the stars,
i used to reach for the sky
but then
You told me to be quiet.”
“don’t let them push you around,”
You say—
but You told me not to fight.
don’t question, don’t argue
don’t cry, til i choke
on the tears that i swallow
down, down, down.
You tell me to be strong
but where do You think
i learned how to make myself weak?
i went and i made myself weak
for You.

is that not how i’m supposed to be?

If enough people yell
And scream and they shout
They get what they want
And acceptance does sprout.

If enough people
Tell a single lie
It will be believed
And the truth will die.

If enough people
Hate a good person
Everyone will
They don’t need a reason.

The stars
Start to peek out
Waking up
From their sleep
Climbing out
The horizon.

Is it
An airplane
Or a shooting star
Passing by?

I can never tell.

It’s raining cats and dogs
And probably raining hogs
What if our own idioms
Suddenly became real?

“Oh, all I did was **** time”
Say that, and end up in jail
And hell, for that matter.
“Punch the clock”
Ow, that hurt
Don’t punch solid wood kids.

I need to get ready for the day
Wow the snowflakes are big
Dang it it’s gonna be cold
Dang it I have to wear a dress to church and it’s cold
Ah frick.

it comes and goes like waves,
she said to me.
it’s okay, one day, it’ll go away,
she said to me.
the ocean never stays the same, you know,
she said to me.
if that great, big body of water can change,
so can you,
she said to me.

i love you,
i said to her.

You tried to burn me down
I was wood in a fire
I was kindling drowned
In gasoline.

You tried to burn me down
And you did
You burned and burned
Until I was reduced to charcoal and ash.

What you didn’t know was
Charcoal makes art
Charcoal inspires others
Charcoal is art made from ashes.

I think it’s really 𝒇𝒖𝒏𝒏𝒚 when we ask, “how are you?”
The answer’s 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 the same.
“I’m good, how are you?”, “I’m fine, how are you?”, “I’m 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒆, I’m 𝒐𝒌𝒂𝒚!”
I think it’s funny, because sometimes it’s a 𝒍𝒊𝒆.
We have made it 𝒄𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒎 to 𝒍𝒊𝒆, to give an 𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒓 that doesn’t 𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒓 anything.
We have made it 𝒄𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒎 to 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒑 𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈, because we 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 what they’ll say.

We 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 what they’ll say.
We 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 what 𝒘𝒆’𝒍𝒍 say.

You know what we’ll say?
We won’t say 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈.
We’ll say 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 because words are not 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔 when they’re 𝒆𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒚.

We’ll repeat it, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘵-

Can’t you see how 𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 this is?

If what is bad for the heart
Is good for art
Then you’re gonna make me into a Picasso.

You see grey
Where I see yellow
Sunshine colors
Vibrant orange.

While you are surrounded
By bright blues
And pretty pinks
I am enveloped
By blacks
And dreary browns.

Why can’t we ever see the same?

You give me life
Yet you **** me
A little every day.

I ask of you
What did I ever do to you?
Except nourish
And raise you
All for you to rule me.

Love, Earth

Evil and good is based on perspective
But I know that you are not even close to evil

You might be afraid I might leave you
But I won’t, I won’t, I won’t

Happiness is hard to get and even harder to keep
But you are it, and I won’t leave you

The world may be scary and sad
But I am here, and we will be okay

We may not be okay
But it will happen
Someday

Meanwhile
Accept your demons
And accept yourself
While you still have to deal with them

Consult with the rain
Speak with the flowers
Keep your individuality
Don’t be like the others.

Keep your angelic innocence
But if you lose it, don’t be bitter
Be a misser or hitter, but don’t be a sitter
Follow your gut and also your heart
Your intuition matters.

Don’t doubt yourself so much
Have faith in yourself
Keep your kindness
Always offer a hug, even when their tears soak your shirt.

Just be you.

Why am I not good enough.
I wake up.
I look into the mirror trying to remember what I look like before.
I walk into my closet.
No clothes good enough.
I find some people might like.
Tight clothes, uncomfortable too.
But the fact is that everyone will like them.
I put on makeup trying to recognize the girl I saw when I woke.
I can’t.
The girl in the mirror, stealing my reflection.
You walk into school with girls you don’t even like
But they are popular
That’s all you wanted.
You can’t though
Because you work hard at school
And you stop working hard to walk in with those girls
Why am I not good enough
You look at those popular girls wishing you were them
Why am I not good enough
That night you take off your makeup
Why am I so ugly
Why am I not good enough
I am good enough
Wake up the next morning
Wear clothes you comfortable in
Wear no makeup
Be the person you are.
Work hard in class
Get straight As
You are good enough.

“Sanity is not statistical”
According to George Orwell
You cannot measure
Human brain-power
Insanity
Or any of the like.

No percents
Or dotted graphs
Can show you if you’re crazy.

You might be the crazy one
Or the world is the one who’s wrong.

Nothing made me angrier than when
You expected the best from me and I
Felt like it was unfair, and I couldn’t do
What everyone else could, that I didn’t
Have the tools, that this was a race but
I was positioned behind the
Starting line.

I thought you didn’t understand.

And you didn’t.

But you pushed me farther than I thought
I could go, you told me that I could do it—
That I had to.
You held me to that same gold standard,
On the bad days and the good days and
The days in between, you never wavered
And you never gave me the option to
Quit.

So I ran that race, and I ran it fast
I sprinted and leaped and speeded past
Everyone else, despite where I started,
And all I could feel was the rush in the air,
The breath in my veins and the wind in my hair,
The power of my stride, the power of my will,
The strength of my wholeness, this strength I could feel,
And every time, I thought I could not do it.

You did not know my pain—
Yet you pushed me right through it.

Poor poor Sisyphus
Rolling a stone up a hill
Nearly get to the top, he did
But the rock rolled down and fell.

Crushed beneath the burden
Of his own type of hell
Destined to labor forever
Rolling that **** stone up a hill.

I dot my i’s and
cross my t’s,
a perfect ballerina
dancing across the page.
Graceful as a butterfly
soothing like a summer sunset.
Sweet, simple, flawless.
But already there are
scribbles, mispelings,
blots of ink and suddenly
this perfect canvas is no longer
blank.
Oh, to write like a wildfire,
no remorse or formulaic
meter!
Just bared wide, torn open
displaying my wholeness as
us poets so often do.

Are we meant to dissect
These poems with laboratory
Efficiency and precision?
Are we meant to
Pull them apart and
Split their seams and
Inspect them for flaws?
Or
Are we meant to
Let them spill into us and
Let their loveliness warm our
Souls!
Let them speak and sing and
Sweetly stutter, with a flutter
Let them trace our spirits back
Let them, like a flame, attract
Us until we are, like moths, consumed—
To love a flower, let it bloom.

You seem not to me cold
But beautiful and pure
Your cool, distinct touch,
Taking residence everywhere.

Your grace is unimaginable
Landing softly on the ground
A ballet dancer
Maybe even pointe.

Love, Earth

What meets the eye
Could be anything in disguise
So why obsess over it
When what’s important is within?

As snow falls
I am filled with calm
Until I am reminded
Remembering
That people put Christmas decorations
Up before Halloween.
The calm is banished
Because
Who the frick does that??

Mister Mister over there
You burn holes with that stare
From a smolder to ice cold,
Your eyes are haunting, beautiful, and bold.

Mister Mister come over here
Moth to a fire, painful sear.
I’ve always wanted what I can’t have,
Is it so good if it’s so bad?

Mister Mister seems you have made
A 1000 words I have to say,
What drama may ensue
Ever since I’ve noticed you.

Please
Don’t equivocate
I want to know
What you are trying to say.

Please
Just tell me
Because I don’t understand
What you want from me.

What do you want from me?

A noisy impatient fly
Humming by my ear like the fluorescent light overhead
Near imperceptible, but in the silence, grating
As it sung out, buzz, buzz, buzz, out of itself,
Always droning, never a pause in the incessant
Static.

And you, O my soul, where you sit,
Trapped in a cocoon of web, never quite alone
But immovably stagnant, perhaps once learning, chasing, dancing, Seeking that elusive something,
Till exhausted by the endless journey, only ever wishing
For a home
That you never found, but barely existing you continue, O my soul.

Some things cannot be memorized
Thought out.

Sometimes logic
Cannot solve.

Sometimes one must feel
And it may be hard
That’s ok
Because you can’t always get by
Being booksmart.

it feels like locking
the door on your loyal dog
who loved unconditionally
and saved you from your
sorrowful depths,
but you must go and
all things must end, though,
can’t you hear the whining
through the cracks?
can’t you hear the groan
through the cracks in the spine
made from opening what must
always
be shut?

I’m a run-on sentence
Too much work to be payed attention

When I was younger
Things were simple
I was simple
I miss simple.

When you were younger
You were my best friend
We were best friends

Where did we go?

I look in the mirror
And I don’t recognize
The pitiful little girl
Gazing back.

There is so much sadness
In her eyes
In these moments
When it’s just me and her
No one else there
No one I have to be happy for.

I’ll do it tomorrow.
That’s what I say every day:
“I’ll do it tomorrow, not today.”
I 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 it’s a bad idea,
but I can’t stop;
𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱.
Every day, when I wake up,
All I want to do is go back to bed.
I want to 𝒘𝒂𝒊𝒕 for tomorrow like it’s something that 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒔 to me.

It’s just something that 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒔 to me.

𝘊𝘢𝘳𝘱𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘮.
They say you should 𝒔𝒆𝒊𝒛𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒚,
But I can’t.

I can’t when it’s just something that 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒔 to me.

We are all a victim of life passing us by.
Of time passing us by.
Of the universe 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒖𝒔 𝒃𝒚.

The universe is so 𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒕.

But maybe, just 𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆, I don’t want to be a victim anymore.

I don’t want 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 to be something that just 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒔 to me.

Beauty seems to darken
In the shadows of this
Worsening existence.
Sounds jump at me
Sabotaging my happiness.
Fear is my only enemy.
.
.
.
Fear is my only friend.

You envelope me
Surround me
Surreally surpassingly sizable.

Your blue majesty
Blankets me
Making my world a bit brighter.

Love, Earth

When I’m being rained on
And the sun finally reveals itself
You are the one wonderful wonder
Showing me the color I had forgotten.

You fill me with amazement
As you arch overhead.
Making me wish
Instead of Earth I could be sky.

Love, Earth

Here’s our breaking news:
A church shooting
Bullet holes in pews.

Here it is; news of the day
Down in Texas
A hurricane.

The more I watch
The more my hopes
Unravel
Like weathered ropes.

The most bitter things
Can be sweet

Sickly sweet lies
And bittersweet goodbyes

Sweet, sweet love
Turned bitter by time

The most bitter things
Can be sweet
And so can I.

I don’t hate you.

I’m just reticent.

Reluctant to share where
This hesitation came from
But I swear I care,
I swear I care.

It doesn’t make sense,
This reticence is like barbed wire fence
Around my heart so when
You try to touch it h u r t s.

𝘐 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘶𝘭𝘵 𝘐 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘶𝘭𝘵 𝘐 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘶𝘭𝘵 𝘐 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳-

I smell
Brownies
The warm, luscious smell
Enveloping me in sweetness.

It’s made from the box?
That’s ok.
It still smells good.

Must you be so annoying?
Must you be so rude?
Must you be so everything
That ruins the mood?

I say to the mirror.

Humans
Are always fascinated
By beauty.
And yet
When we see the world’s beauty
We destroy it
In a greedy attempt
To take it for ourselves.

All of my friends are crazy
Maybe, just maybe
It’s because I’m super
Crazy too

I’m sorry
I was such a worry
I’m not my sister
You wished her
Niceness would bleed into me
No
My wrists are unscathed
I’m afraid that’ll change

The sun
Now completely above
the horizon.

The shadows
Feel cold
But what the sun touches
Is warm.

I go outside
And watch
The birds
Chirp to their neighbors.

My neighborhood
Wakes up.
Good morning!

Can I depend on you?
Do you think so too?
Can I let you in?
Can I trust in you?

I am comfortable with you.
Should I be?