i’ve watched the same show for over two weeks
and when my favorite character was falling apart,
it put a damper on my mood.
i am that attached..
to fiction.
it wasn’t even real and i still cried in my bed
with my hair concealing my eyes.
i never like to think of myself as the most empathetic person out there,
it was a sudden jolt in my nature.
perhaps i see myself in his wild eyes,
not the wicked side,
but something in him that reflects in my heart.
i’m repulsed by my poetry.
i wouldn’t even consider it poetic in any way.
i tell my close friends that i write poetry
and i like to think that they scoff at that idea.
i told my retiring teacher that i wrote poetry
and she gave me her email.
what makes her think i’m good enough to be read throughly by an english teacher of forty years?
kinda ironic since i’m posting on a poetry website.
i’m embarrassed of my efforts,
ashamed of my achievements.
see, i’ve never been good at anything
i played basketball in middle school
and my friend would always say that i bombed a shot or i needed to do something more involving.
my past crush even said i was too short to play or something.
i tried being nice for a day because my sister and mother were telling me i was too mean,
i swear i’m not.
but i tried to be nice
and bad things still happened
and i called people rude names.
i’m not good at staying prompt to journaling
like tumblr girls at their highest.
catch my drift, i have never been good at anything,
and poetry is the only thing that makes me feel like i’m alive
who cares if it’s actually well written?
it’s self expression.
i hope everyone at least tries to write one poem once in their lifetime,
it changed my life.
step one: find a muse, trust me, if you have a good one, you might not even experience writers block
(that’s an overestimate, but sure)
step two: write about anything and everything.
write about your drive to work, how the highway signs started to feel like heartbeats because they were so repetitive.
write about your dreadful day at school and about the teacher who freaked out.
step three: find a metaphor in everything.
trust me, if you look hard enough, there’s always a metaphor.
step four: see yourself in other people. capture the conversation the bus passengers had. write from different perspectives;
you’ll learn a lot about empathy.
step five: don’t listen to my advice because i’m not qualified.
don’t listen to the writer of bad poems.
there’s no use in fearing rejection,
i get rejected by myself on the daily.
you’ll never be something to someone if you don’t just say it.
tell them you like them.
tell them they make your world glimmer
and they make bad days a little more bearable.
and if they shrug, it’s ok, souls don’t have the same meaning to everyone
and that’s beautiful.
you’ll live.
rejection is inevitable.
when i’m invested in a show or a person, it becomes my obsession.
when i lie awake at night, i’m wondering what will happen next,
what character is going to get killed off next.
i want my poems to be lengthier and
luckily i can rant like nobody’s business.
i feel less anxious when i throw my feelings onto paper,
and i think things through.
no need to have to suffer through all your chaotic thoughts alone.
write.
that’s advice to me.
write when your favorite character is stressed,
write when you feel peeping eyes on your back.
write when the world churns you out of shape like butter.
write when the music doesn’t seem to calm your inner self.
the world can be wrong,
that’s a possibility.
you are allowed to critique it,
you are allowed to believe in miracles
and you are allowed to ask God if you can’t conjure up an answer all by yourself.
that’s why they say He’s always listening.
they lie about lots of other things,
but definitely not that.
writing is not for everyone,
it picks its candidates with reasoning.
i guess i was chosen
and i won’t let my muses down.
they live inside of my heart even when i wanna tear them out.
i won’t send my poetry to my old teacher,
and i won’t live another day without the benefits of writing.
i still have two more seasons to binge watch of this show
and more and more reasons to be alive.
the world is wrong,
but i never said i was right.
i have no vendettas
and writing has infiltrated my mind.
no tickets are accepted at admission.
come another time.

the sky gets darker earlier this time of year
my heart grows weeds
and becomes as hostile as an abusive man
exiting a pub
i lose all the strength i built up
and all my protecting walls collapse
instead of breaking free i break down
in my room, silently, with only the echoes of my pain surrounding me
my parents say it’ll all be fine,
but if it was that simple, why wouldn’t i try to lessen the blow?
why would i wanna be stuck with voices
ringing in my head like noisy sirens?

i pray noticeably more when the sun dies sooner
i know it’s a bad habit,
only pray when things aren’t going well,
i’m so sorry,
i wish i was a better disciple, a better woman with stronger feet holding her up

my bedtimes get earlier,
but i fall asleep much slower
noticeably slower
the stars don’t remain beacons of hope, 
they are fireballs bursting,
relishing in my devastation

time drags on in this time of year
my knees fold under pressure
my lungs shrivel up
my brain turns into a non-thinking zone
and i can’t escape the neurons packed deep into my radioactive mind
i can’t rid of my involvement in that sabotage

i pray and i pray and i pray
noticeably more this time of year
they get answered, but some of them are just too extreme
i don’t blame a soul
only the lost energy lodged into my wild mind
(and see, i can’t even think, i can’t breathe this time of year)

i’m never prepared
for this time of year
the summer air losing its warmth
the autumn chill filling my throat

i drowned many years ago
i still lurk in the water
and sometimes when i get full of myself
i grab feet and legs and drag them under with me
so they can feel the exact pain i did
when i lost my last breath
around this time last year

you crumbled in my hands like flimsy bricks on lazy made housing developments
tumbling like rocks on sides of cliffs
dull guilty eyes stared back at me
black circles gazing presumptuously
at my porcelain skin
we were not bad people
we were just victims to cruel assumption
you took the brunt of the dazed collusion
and they stole me from you
as the spaceships coughed up fumes
capable of killing a single man
in under five seconds
we all cry the same tears when we hear the world is coming to a close
we travel to tiny towns where our families are stationed
and we weep in each other’s arms
because all our tears are made up of saltwater
none are fresher than another  
none are clearer
none are holier
i danced with you as the world was bombed to ashes
and minimized to dust particles
but you broke out of my embrace
and shot me in the head instead
the darkness poured out of your grim eyelids
and into my soul
i choked on my own rotten blood
feeling fire slither up next to my paralyzed body

you lit all the corners of the rooms
with candles
now they’re burning
burning the wax all the way down to the bottom
this time,
i’m not dancing,
i’m burning alive

forever is a crueler way of saying never

the old school i went to was filled with the best, worst, and funniest memories. i only talk to four of my friends from that old school; i don’t really ever talk to two of them, but i have texted them. it doesn’t really matter. there’s so many people that have come and gone that i’m not even phased anymore.

1. dear s, you. oh, you. you were a strange soul, but i always remember respecting you. my other classmates said you were really weird. you peeped over stalls and you loved this one kid, (i’ll get to him later) you got so sad when you had to leave in kindergarten. i missed you back then, i don’t miss you now. i barely remember you anyway.

2. dear t, so.. you were technically my first kiss. i chased you around on the tar playground thingy and i kissed your cheek right before the teachers rang their end of recess bell. you were my first love, i like to claim jokingly. i played some foolish kindergartner game with you and when you left in first grade, i had no more reason to play. so i didn’t. we had play dates at your house. your cat bit me, your sister was running up and down the stairs, you showed me your bunk beds, and you hid me under a blanket fort so that i didn’t have to go back home with my father. you gave up peanut butter for lent because of me in kindergarten. that’s honestly the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. you now go to high school with me and i don’t think you recall. that’s insane to me.

3. dear s, i just remember you being best friends with the kid i mentioned above. you were quite shy and never talked much. i never really got to know you. the only thing i recall about you is that you had to put things in your shoes and you broke my best friend’s front tooth.

4. dear a, you and i played with toys together and we got along quite well. i was upset when you had to go. you were pulled out of class to be placed into a better school? i was bummed. i think i still see your face pop up into my mind occasionally.

5. dear j, you were the best at dodgeball and i always thought you were kinda odd, but i am too so… i don’t know. i went to your halloween party one year and you didn’t even speak to me. luckily i never wanted you to. i was a dog that year. when you left, it was just another person leaving. i hope you’re good now.

6. dear a, you came in third grade. everyone disliked you. it could’ve been the way you always read books while the teacher was teaching or the way you bit the collar of your shirt and your lips would get so red and chapped. when you left, everyone rejoiced. (no offense.) i was never really friends with you anyway.

7. dear p, i don’t really remember you much. your brother and your sister..possibly? if you had one…were really weird. no offense, i promise i’m not judgmental. we never talked much, that’s literally all i remember about you lol. hope you’re good.

8. dear p, you were a very interesting person. you sang let it go one time and said Hell instead of Heaven in the lyrics and everyone at my table was shocked. (that was in third grade.) you called yourself some weird name and everyone looked at you strangely when you did. you pinned one of my classmates against the wall and tried to kiss him. that was very creepy. you got sent to boarding school and i haven’t heard anything about you since. i hope you settled down after those years.

9. dear e, you always tried to steal my dessert that was in my lunch. (i’m pretty sure it was you who did that.) i cried to my parents about that. thankfully you stopped. one time, we played jenga and we couldn’t stop laughing so we had to go to the bathroom. i was peeing my pants i was laughing so hard. that is honestly one of my favorite memories. you got mad at me for how i read and you were a horse girl, but other than that, you were a good friend. you go to my new school now and you definitely don’t remember me. you’ve still got that red hair and those freckles. you look the same. i miss you a little.

10. dear s, you were my best friend. i got to show you around the school as a resident, (idk lol.) i complimented your lunchbox on that day. later on, i would stay a little after class so you could gather your hefty science book in your arms and we would walk up the staircase together. my cousin and my sister always claim i had a crush on you, but i never did. i was very upset when you left the school. you now walk around the halls of my new school with your head lowered to the ground. i wish i could make you happy like i used to. i honestly miss you. i really do.

11. dear b, i thought you were funny, but you were always disrespectful to the teachers. you once did this insensitive imitation at lunch. i didn’t want to sit next to you cause you would spit your food everywhere. you were the worst kid i think i ever knew. i once said to you “die in a hole cause you really are dirt.” maybe that’s why you claimed people at that school bullied you. but you were popular and everyone loved you, right? you could be pretty mean yourself. you go to my new school now as well, i don’t know if you recognize me, but i definitely recognize you. you’re a lot more tame now, i think.

12. dear a, i went to your birthday party and everyone was shocked since i never went to any party i was invited to. it was a lot of fun, you considered me as a friend then. but when i said hello to you a year after you left that school, you didn’t say anything back. i was humiliated. i missed the version of you back when i had to move my seat cause another kid and i were getting too rowdy. we sat beside each other and we became best buddies. perhaps only on my end. you came from minnesota and you talked about how cold it got and what scary tornadoes looked like there. you liked my stupid best friend, but you never even liked me, i’m guessing. everyone at my new school hates you. i don’t think you go there anymore. i never really liked you anyway.

13. dear z, you were fun. you were always quite fond of me. you saw me on the playground of the other middle school and wanted to say hi. i was afraid and didn’t think you really wanted to. but i said hi anyway. i told you that your mom looked like mine one time and i think you laughed or something. you go to my new school and you stare at me like you remember me, perhaps you do. i miss you.

14. dear e, the art teacher used to say that she wanted your hair type. she tried it one day, it looked awful, and i don’t even know why. it was kind of weird how obsessed she was with that. on the first day you came to school, you read two paragraphs too much about smoky the bear. how do i even remember that? we were the rowdy bunch in second grade. we laughed at everything. in fourth grade, you did something really creepy that i don’t even wanna say. i won’t out you like that. you were rich and pretentious, bringing fiji water bottles to school every day, but i miss you. i don’t know where you are now.

15. dear s, i had the fattest crush on you in fourth and fifth grade. everyone in my class liked you, it was kind of funny. my best friend even liked you. it was crazy, i tried denying it, but everyone knew anyway. (you actually liked my best friend though, you said some weird things about her.) i almost killed you one time. i gave you a peppermint because you asked for it and you started choking on it and had to run to the bathroom. our teacher was so worried for you, and i hid my head in shame. you were fine though; you didn’t snitch on me. you told me i was strong and you picked me to do a project with. i was so shocked and happy that you wanted me to be in your group. my sister said we were best friends, but i never thought we were. i really thought i was that unlikeable. i miss you? that’s a question.

16. dear b, in seventh grade you would only stand beside me during sparkle or whatever game we played. (if you never played sparkle, you haven’t lived.) my friends would call you out on it, especially a, but you would just smile and say nothing. one of the only male teachers was obsessed with you, probably cause he didn’t want you to feel left out. you almost cried every time you couldn’t solve an english sentence or when you got a c on a test. you were a wreck. i don’t even know what school you go to now, but i guess i wish you the best.

17. dear a, scratch what i said about the other kid being the most troublesome person i ever came across. you brought the board game chameleon to school and i had a blast playing it. sometimes you would cheat or stop halfway through the round and it wouldn’t be as fun. i defended you once to a teacher. you called her assignment dumb and she said, “are you calling me dumb?” and i was like, “no, he’s just calling the work dumb.” and you were like, “yeah.” you rarely came to school and i was shocked when you would actually turn up. a rumor flew around that you got expelled and God only knows where you are right now. prison? lol, probably not.

18. dear m, we sat on the same bus together and we laughed in the back every day. we both “hated” each other. we had debates on who could stand out in the freezing cold longest. it was me, always me. you once left in third grade after an ice cream party, but then came back. you left in sixth for good. you still live in my neighborhood, but i never see you. i miss you.

19. dear c, you were the most fun person i ever met. you told jokes and they rolled off your tongue so easily, you made me laugh on my most difficult days. you touched my neck one time as a joke and we talked about it from then on. you would always mention it. you called me so many funny nicknames and i know for a fact you started liking me. you loitered around my locker and tried any chance you got to talk to me. it was very flattering. i miss your laugh, your weirdness, your enthusiasm. i miss you more than most of the others for the attention and the kindness you showed to me. you didn’t show up to our graduation cause of covid and march thirteenth is the last day i ever saw your face. i wish with all my heart that that wasn’t true.

20. dear k, you were knowledgeable about everything and i always thought you were a know-it-all. you were never particularly nice to me, but again, i didn’t really notice. you snitched on people so much. you liked my best friend too and you wrote her a note and asked her if she liked you back. you both go to the same school and you talk to her a lot. that’s upsetting. i think you remember me and it’s awkward. sorry.

21. dear k, you were my best friend. we were partners in crime, but i’m not gonna write you a huge letter since i have written about you so many times and the wound just gets deeper every time. we sat together in every class. one time, we had a substitute teacher and we both changed seats so we could sit together. we got snitched on the next day. ugh. i miss you extremely. you wander the halls of my new school and you’re just everywhere and i can’t shake you. you hate me, i just know it.

22. dear c, you got ridiculed for your weight and i might have participated once. my friends joked about you needing to use head and shoulders because you had dandruff. i’m sorry. my one friend would act like i had a crush on you and he would make you sit next to me to see if my face turned red. i hated it, but i could tell that you didn’t mind. i have little clue where you are now. i don’t really miss you.

23. dear k, i’ve seen you a couple times since going to my new school. you’re still best friends with one of my good friends that stuck. we went to an escape room together and we laughed like old times. you’re shy like me and you make me feel comfortable. i hope to see you again soon.

24. dear c, you and i would fool around before class every day at seven thirty. it would get annoying sometimes, but i never acted bothered. i don’t like to make people feel like burdens. we would do morning announcements and i like to think that we were really good friends. i’d like to think that you thought that too. there was something about you that was just so welcoming. i miss you and i wish we could’ve kept in contact so we could’ve hung out more. my friend saw you at the ice cream shop the other day and it would’ve been cool if i had been there too.

25. dear a, you sent me a message and you don’t know how much that meant to me. i even wrote a **** poem about that, (don’t think i’m crazy though hehe.) you asked me about school and i took a whole ten minutes to answer because i didn’t know. should i have lied or told you the truth or what? so i just said it was good, just different. and then you showed me pictures of your new cat and her scratches on the drywall. she was a cute kitten. you wanted me to go to basketball games at other schools and i always came up with an excuse on why i didn’t go. dang it, i regret not going now. after my best friend left school, you and i became closer and we sat up in the math room together figuring out confusing problems. i miss spending time with you and i miss seeing your wet hair in the morning. i hope we can reunite and meet up soon.

26. dear s, you couldn’t go to the restaurant you wanted to for your birthday because you misbehaved. i told you about that incident a few months ago and you claimed it never happened. it did. my friends all used to pick on you since you were such an easy target. you don’t get social cues so i rarely ever try to joke with you. you said my voice was pretty when i was singing and i have always hated my voice so thank you for boosting my nonexistent confidence. you left in kindergarten, but came back in third grade and you were gonna go to a different high school, but you’re stuck where i am. we text now and we have lunch and class together. it’s fun hanging out with you sometimes.

27. dear f, i write poems about you all the time and it’s kind of embarrassing. at least you’ll never read them. in fourth grade, my old crush said you had a crush on me and i brushed it off. i know you still did all the way to eighth grade. you gave me so many nicknames and all of them made me laugh. you placed things on top shelves and put your arms against walls to show how much taller you were than me. i liked it secretly. we had spelling and academic contests together. you won some, i won spelling. i miss you more than everyone else i think, even though you made me feel like disgusting trash everyday. you’re the reason i still call myself ugly in the mirror. thanks. i still miss you, do you miss me?

28. dear j, you’ve helped me so much through high school and i don’t think i’ll ever be able to thank you enough. you introduced me to so many people and they have been excellent friends to me. we were never super good friends back then, but now we are. we text and we laugh and we have inside jokes and it’s all i could’ve ever wished for. you used to be a snitch, but you aren’t anymore. we have three classes together this year and i can’t wait to see you again on the first day of school. see you there.

and these are all the people who have shaped me into who i am,
wherever all of you are at this moment, thank you for spending most of my life with me.
thank you.

the days won’t slow
the nights won’t drag
they move too quickly
it’s all too fast

i’ve always hated august
her grip
on my arm
her drinks
in my bar
her laughs
so far
away
but i hear them
echoing off the walls
of the barn
in this particular
part
of the season.
it’s starting to
feel like treason.
i give so much love
lying in
summer’s arms
i hold her like
a three million
dollar diamond ring
and i give her everything.
she leaves me broken
and shattered
likewise the mad hatter
and i collect her
fragments like a good
little child.
a good little
disciplined child.
she discards the wild
in me,
although i
keep
her summer breeze
alive.

i’ve always hated august
the anticipation that
comes along with her
heated embrace
her clammy hands
on my face
she wants to be
a motherly figure
to take my mother’s
place, but she’s
just too forceful
not merciful
enough.
i want a refund
for all the
money i spent for
her
to keep loving
me,
but she lets me go
like i’m some
contagious cold
that only wants to
keep you close
so
it can give you
the most sniffles.

i’ve always hated august
her savage remarks
how she gets so dark
when i just want to
feel her presence
at eight o’clock.
she’s always busy
getting wasted,
her neglecting
so shameless,
she shoos me away
like a poor peasant
begging
at her feet.
the actions she
never apologizes
for,
she adores seeing
her
tanning children
suffer,
cry their brains open
since they have
no hope
and
no happiness.

i’ve always hated august
cause it always
seems
like she hates
me.
i wish we had
a better relationship
but she’s always made
my life a living
shipwreck,
again, i am beached.