I cry
These lies
I’m not fine
Can’t we just be kind?

It’s a beautiful day
The sun is out
It’s a beautiful day
To be out and about
But we shouldn’t do that
Fearing we will get sick
It’s only 30° F anyway
To my bones the wind’ll lick.

I feel to much.
Oh, it feels wrong to say that,
But logically, it could be true.
I tend to let my feelings
Get in the way
Of thinking.
But it feels to wrong
To not let myself feel.
But it seems the only way
To not make mistakes
Is to not feel.
I have been taught
To feel, but not to much.
Or to take a stand, but only if it’s uncontroversial.
They say be yourself, but only if your are normal.
Society tells me that no one can be perfect,
While also telling me to not make mistakes.
What do I do?
Which is right?

You’re stuck in a maze
There’s no way to get out
You got two paths to take
One’s easy, one’s not.
I bet you’re asking
“Is this supposed to be a hard question?”
But you didn’t hear yet
That the easy way
Will let you out in an endless desert
“Well I’ll take the hard way then.”
You might be thinking right now
But if you never knew
Which led somewhere safe,
Would you choose easy or hard?

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

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

I’ve felt many times a day
That I’m from earlier times
FAR far away.

I never really ever feel like I’m at home
I’m a triangle fitting into a square hole
I get in the hole, but there’s something missing.

I feel like I’m from a year
Way earlier than 2006,
It can be a giant advantage
Other times it is a...b-bomb.

Barbed wire disguised as a sanctuary.
Decay in the comfort of a garden full of foxglove.
Attend meetings at cathedrals with pastors
Droning on and on beckoning you to come unto God.
But why would you when All Mighty and Powerful God
Deserted you when you needed him the most.
You have experienced too much to be comforted.

Unsaid words
Say more than sound.
I hear them everywhere
Lurking around.

But still they linger
On the tip of the tongue
A silent Ringer
Instead bringing demise.

They destroy worlds,
And hearts
And people.

These unsaid words have the power I do not hold.

Im much too tired
To use my brain right now.
Sorry.
“404 Brain Not Found”
“Try Again Later”

What are you feeling?
Overwhelmed
Why is that?
I don’t know.

Of course you know!
There’s a reason for everything.
What’s that reason?
I still don’t know.

Come on think hard, you aren’t stupid,
What is that reason you’re hiding from me?
I. Don’t. Know.

Who is backwards?
Me or them?
Should I know?
Is it ok that I don’t?
I DON’T KNOW!

A mix
Of joy and pain,
Plain as day
On the lines of pages.

Like a roller coaster,
Poems rise high
As the sunset
But soon sink low
Almost touching the ground.

But the thing about poems,
Is that they take any shape.
Sad
Happy
Painful
Pleasant.

It doesn’t matter
If you just wrote a mourning story,
You can still tell a tale of joy.

I have said that rhymes are liquid.
I wasn’t kidding.
Liquids take any shape and fit the container they are poured in.
And when they aren’t contained
They spill and spread everywhere.
Poetry does too.

My mask is on so much
It has become an appendage on my face.

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

Chaos unraveled
Time ensnared.

For all of the travel
We weren’t prepared.

We are going insane
We are panicked to blindness.

This virus is a pain
So we must treat each other with kindness.

If you can find a doorway,
I beg you to go through.
Even if you don’t see one,
I know you will later.
If the doorway is too small,
Or the hinges are rusted and stuck,
Carve your own door in the wood,
Walk through with child-like wonder.
If all the doors are locked,
And you’ve lost your carving knife,
Climb over the wall,
Don’t sit and wallow in your strife.

they never **** the main character.

but i am not the main character.

i am replaceable like batteries,
only useful for some time,
never really necessary, just nice
to have around.

but i know that i did this to myself.

people never care about a character
without flaws.
and i made sure not to burden everyone else
with my pain and my worries and failures.
i made sure to not need them
and now they do not need me.

i managed to avoid vulnerability
and i managed to avoid closeness
and i managed to avoid potential damage
only to waste away.

S snow
N never gets
O old
W winter is so pretty.

The gentle flakes of snow
Caress my nose
And land softly
On a high bough.

If you were an animal
You’d be a horse
Cuz horses are my favorite.

Catch the stars
Breath in the moonlight
Grow so tall
You can hold the moon.

Speak to an owl
Maybe a fox
In my dreams
Nothing is orthodox.

For some people
It’s like a game:
Dance around Death
And hope you don’t get caught.
It’s like a battle game:
A game of Cat and Mouse
One day the game will end
And Death will prevail.

Chatter fills the air
Stop blabbing away
Your empty words
Mean nothing
Speak when you need to
But don’t be fake
Please
And thank you

Am I wood?
Sturdy but burns?
Am I glass?
Pretty but broken?
Am I metal?
Hardy but rusted?
Am I paper?
Pristine but fragile?
What am I?

Your magnificence
Cannot be handled
By such as I.

For your light shines so bright
Someone living in darkness (me)
Is blinded by your beauty.

Your dazzling delightfulness
Shocks me into a daze
Cuz dang it, that snow is bright!

I was feeling much better
Then I realized my problems hadn’t left
This temporary relief
Was a very short-lived gift.

Words are my comfort-food
I’d binge-eat all day if I could,
But sadly it only changes my mood
And not my life (I misunderstood!)

Welp, that *****.
Eh, I’ll fix my life eventually
*key word-eventually!

I never knew how to act
I’m sad
I never knew I was this bad
That’s a lie
I just never tried
Making a wall
Within my own mind
Doing without thinking

250 poems
Now it’s 251
Who knew I had so much to say
I thought I’d only make one!

That was a complete and utter lie
Guess I didn’t know
That it’s so addictive
To write poems on HePo!

I feel like a vessel,
Holding salty water inside.
But my metal is weak
It’s basically tinfoil,
And my water rushes out.

You are my release, poetry.
You know my deepest secrets.
I always write,
And I always will.

I cherish these moments together
Where I can be honest to myself,
And I don’t have to hide
Or even wear a mask.

You, lovely poetry,
Are a reservoir of me,
I poured my heart into you,
So cradle me softly, my beloved.

I am but a specter—
An apparition, immaterial and gauzy,
Gossamer and ghostly,
Hardly even there.

When I leave,
They do not notice.

When I stay,
They do not notice.

I am as the pleasant music,
Playing in the background.
Enjoyed when present, seldom missed
When all that fills the silence is
Their voices, chattering like birds
Above the sea, without me.

I am as the cheerful actress,
Seen but never known.
I say my lines without a flaw
Unbelievably real, so the audience
Believes that they know my soul,
The marrow of my bones and the essence
Of what my heart pumps through my veins,
But the things they know are as curated
As these words upon the page.

How has it
Never occurred to you
That I’m sad because
You’re always yelling
At me to do better?

I may be dark
But I’m not blind
I won’t stick my head into the sand
I will not ignore
What is happening.
I may be dark
BUTIAMNOTBLIND

The future looks
So much brighter,
Is it really
As it seems?
Does your burden
Really get lighter
Or as you get older
Do you break at the seams?
All I want
Is to be free.
But will age
Be ties and tethers
For me?

Is it so strange
To create
Without thinking?
Is it so strange
To express
Without expressing
Yourself?
Is it SO STRANGE
To simply create
For the sake of it?

Am I the only one who does?

Don’t cry
You’re gonna be ok
Don’t cry
Don’t cry
Don’t cry
Or I will too.

Because we’re not ok

I’d like to inform you guys
That my real name is Malia.
In Hawaiian it means
“Calm and gentle waters”
I am unsure whether it can be true.
I mean, sometimes
I just want peace.
I don’t want to get
All caught up in a storm
Because I know my ship will sink
And I’ll drown.
But sometimes I want to drown.
I want to throw myself in a fire.
Okay.
Maybe not that intense.
Maybe it IS that intense.
But sometimes I just want to watch the flames dance,
And revel in the chaos of it all.

Sometimes calm and gentle waters
Are not for me.

I’m a drifting planet
You’re a drifting sun
As I draw closer and closer
I must be careful, or I’ll be burned.

A supernova-however bright-
Is dangerous after the light
Mistaken, a moth to fire
I got ****** in your black hole
Torn apart like flesh in rapid gunfire.

Best wishes to you
As you leave me behind
“Drive safe, have fun, I’ll see you next time.”
But bittersweet is this goodbye,
Watching you leave to start a new life.

I understand that you have to go,
But I still wish you wouldn’t.
I feel like you’re changing
And I’m not in it.

Are we drifting apart?
You won’t stay the same.
But I know you love this change,
I can withstand the pain.

This world keeps on getting darker
We have surpassed the marker
Of no return.

HP decided it wouldn’t work
Which is like being thirsty
But having nothing
But mud and murk.

I need these words to survive
I need to know I am heard.
Like any organism
Needs water.

So when HP decided it would start again
I overindulged a little
And made like, 10 poems in a span of ten minutes.

Just like a dehydrated person might do
After they find water
Drinking until they feel like they’re about to explode.

I really hope I don’t throw up.

Still waters run deep.
Still water people are rare to find
And even harder to keep.

Loud waters run shallow
Some of them are rather foul.

Still waters run deep
With an even deeper soul.

A burst of color
A tinge of gold
A rescue from the cold, dark, grey.
A fleeting rainbow
A whisper of light
All of these colors
Take over the white
All of these colors
Take over the white.
Do not be afraid
To be colorful.

The power went out
The WiFi went down
The water won’t work
The lights won’t turn on!
But I can still see
Electricity or not
Thank goodness the power caved
In the middle of the day!

As the sky darkens,
I darken with it.

As the sky swells,
I swell with it.

As the sun rises,
I rise with it.

I am not okay.
I cannot truthfully say
I am doing well.
The actual truth is
Life is too much for me.
I cannot imagine that
I can do anything.
Everyone tells me
I will never amount to anything.
I will never believe that
I have worth.

We’re all a little cracked.
Or a lot cracked.
Some are even shattered
Because the world
Isn’t perfect
And neither
Are we.
We cry
Then we laugh.
We are flawed creatures.
But don’t
Let your cracks
Break you.
Flaws are beautiful.
A perfect human
Is not truly human.
A rose that never wilts
Is not truly a rose.
Embrace your cracks, people.

If I am unimportant to you
I wish you could be unimportant too
For I certainly rue
The day I met you
How could I be such a fool?

You know what? I realized I have no idea how to do a Petrarchan Sonnet

There once was an ignorant child
Who most certainly wasn’t too mild
Her first name was Quinn
She committed a sin
Being not polite but instead quite wild.

I will never be part of the mob
Sorry to disappoint, Mom.

I can’t seem to contort myself
Into expectations I never wanted.

What a shame,
What a shame you say.

What a shame?
Shame for what?
Being interesting?
That’s not how I see it.

Boring people are lowly peasants
And us peculiars are the kings!