you know,
it’s not easy
to be a woman
with a gunshot wound
and torn wings
on her back.
it’s not easy to
love a woman
who spins
in circles
and acts
like a maniac.
it’s not simple
to exist
in the poetic
tenebrosity
of this
era of living.
there are
hearts
shrouded with
darkness
pierced with
the tongs of their
garden rakes.
there are heads
on stakes
that never got
to stand
away from the
shadows,
shadows that were
casted upon them
for no reason
but that they
were labeled
evil, and so
they thought
they were,
they believed
they were,
they knew
they were.
it’s not easy
to be a person
with an honest
heartbeat on
the drug, littered
and pest invested
streets.
it’s easy,
(apparently),
to go about your
day without
even processing
the torture
some souls
go through just
for their eyes
to never be opened
for
their hearts to never
be warmed
with the
same blaze
you set in your home
to make it feel
all cozy and aesthetic
around the
holiday season.
it’s easy
to turn a blind
eye, to deny
the vile nature
of the bones that
outline souls of all
kinds of barbaric
creatures.
it’s easy to
look upon
it with a grimace,
with a dishonest
appeal to
strengthen the
crevices of
your heart that you
have to fulfill
to prove to some
entity of yourself
that you are a
kind person.
that you aren’t
selfish and
unsparing.
but is it working?
cause although
i see the flames
in your brownish
quite convincing eyeballs
i do see help,
i do spot the parts
of your sweet heart
in your retinas
undamaged by the
bright sun,
i do see the
endearment
lay claim on
your lips.
i see it.
i see it all.
it’s not easy
being a human
in a world where
opportunity only
comes to those
who only see
because they are
told to,
that only see what
they are told
that they can see,
and they hear
what they are
bound to hear
and so on.
it’s not easy
to crawl on
your fractured knees
and twisted ankles
in a pit of
venomous vipers.
it’s so easy
to see the crime,
the shame,
the atrocities,
and try
nothing to stop it.
it’s not easy
being a man
with gunshot wounds
in a combative
ill-conducted
circus,
navigating his
way through
the scattered
yelps of his
brothers
who got lost
in the shadows
and never returned.
you only hear
what you want
to hear.
the truth
aches more
than shoving a
rocket ship
up your runny
nose and
for valid reasons.
don’t shut out the voices of your own children, Society.
don’t separate the stories
of those
who will end
their lives being
ignited in the same
fire, in the exact
same
flame
that touched
the skin of
the silent pleading
children
who were never understood
of the people who
wrote a trillion words
and still weren’t heard
of the vagabonds
that were
casted out of
their villages and
wandered so far
that they lost
sight of who they
were.
some songs
are never
sung,
some instruments
broken and never
played,
millions of killers
never
prosecuted,
victims that
never got their
justice,
some babies never
born,
tens upon thousands
of lifetimes
forgotten.
some darknesses
are too violent.
some corruption
too manic.
it’s not easy
being a human
with bullet wounds
and
gashes
on our backs.
the shadows
of the universe
make us maniacs.
you reap
what you sow,
and you’re gonna
have to battle
millions of
justifiably
angry revolutionists…
so do you want to do this
the easy way,
or the hard way?
pick your machine guns that will always run out of bullets,

we will always have our voices.

“sparkle and shine,”
one day i’ll say
to myself in the mirror
or maybe even
to a distant/immediate
lover
under
the covers.
“shine and be shown,”
one day i’ll yell to
the spruce trees
whose branches
hover over
me
or to
the way i
look in skinny
jeans.
“love the death inside of you
and keep the
life inside
of you as
strong as you can,”
one day i’ll tell my
grandchildren if i lose
my fear of giving
birth or
to somebody
needing
of a pep talk.
“be valiant,
don’t ever be false,
for that is worse than
the most heinous
of truths
you have hiding
inside your skull,”
i’ll tell you as
we sit
on
the kitchen floor
in underwear
under
the fluor
escent
flickering lights
eating brunch
at noon in the
afternoon.
and you’ll tell
me the exact
same thing
and i’ve always
been such a
terrible
liar.
“sparkle and shine,”
one day i’ll say
on the dock
by the lake house
with the really
suspicious murky
water
and i’ll say it
with pride to
the image
of my past
image in
the pitiless
mirror.
perhaps you’ll
say it to me as well,
as the fog
opens up a
new front
in my/our
front yard
as i peep
through the
blinds
and i feel alive
and the
poetry in my
veins awakens
to the beat of
the ripened heat.
and i’ll shine like
the sun,
just can you be
my spotlight if
my light suddenly
dims?
can you?
can you, please?

i can’t seem to write poetry deep and soft and emotive. i can’t seem to do anything with my splintered hands and my lazy blue eyes.
i can’t find the beauty
in words;
no one reads my words to find the beauty in them as well.
i can’t seem to recite poetry off my tongue and into
my brain cavities when
i sleep with my lulled anxiety. i don’t understand how
life can be beautiful from in these cell blocks.
you can’t read poetry in vacant reveries
with deadbeats and
coffee and midnight mental breakdowns.
i can’t find poetry in my bones embedded deep beyond
my unfamiliarity.
you can’t find poetry
in centuries of instinct
or in your skinned knee; unless you see words in forms that people don’t know and can’t comprehend, therefore i am assuming you, as the reader, can’t
find poetry in the worst types of things because i have before,
so what
am i even rambling about anymore?
maybe poetry can’t even
be found
in the bones,
it’s in the soul.

don’t waste your time trying to impress someone with higher status or nicer clothes or a prettier face.
they won’t acknowledge you anyway.

stop wasting your time, hung up on love that you crave.
being in high school and never having a boyfriend is totally ok.
you aren’t unlikeable just because you’re single, i can promise you that.
  
crush culture will make you wanna spill your guts out.

don’t make people your villains just because you envy them and their skeletal structure.

i know it feels as if you’re bathing in a hot spring filled with inexorable anxiety
and i know you wanna escape more than anything else in the entire universe.
this is just a moment.
you have the entire rest of a lifetime for yourself.
just stay strong.

don’t worry about what others think about you.
the only approval you should be seeking is your own; everyone else’s is irrelevant.
who cares if they judge you for such a trivial matter?
they don’t know the real you and if they did, they wouldn’t even look at you funny ever again.

i know you think that you’re not worth it for some reason
but you are worth every laugh shared and every contagious smile,
you are worth the space you occupy in other peoples’ minds.
you might not be brightest star, but you can keep shining.
you don’t have to be a prodigy at everything.
you’re good at things,
you’re talented,
you’re able.

you don’t need to be spotted in crowds.
if you want to remain invisible to the naked eye, go right ahead.
i promise no one is stopping you from keeping your distance.

you don’t have to be loud and crave to be seen to matter in this world.

times can feel like asteroids hitting your planet (and a war threatening it)
summer goes and winter comes and flowers bloom and then go dull.
people are just like seasons;
you don’t need to be happy all the time.

but who knows?
you’ll grow into a fine young lady/man
and no one will know what struggles taunted you when you were in eleventh grade.
besides,
no one thought that neptune had rings when they were there all along;
they were just invisible.


—see, even invisible things can be seen if you capture them with the right camera

i lost my ticket to get on your train
and i witnessed you wave from the caboose; you didn’t even try to get off.

i don’t believe in love or maintaining childhood friendships
i believe in falling short and purposeful abandonment.

you talk to my sister, but not me
what am i supposed to do about that?
it’s my fault i know;
i didn’t acknowledge your presence
i’m so pitiful.

i could throw you a million apologies
i wouldn’t be angry if you wouldn’t forgive me
maybe sometimes in the hallway, you get a bittersweet taste in your mouth when we lock eyes
and you regret the missed time we could’ve spent together
at football games, in history class, in health class
and i regret that too;
in this particular universe.

you drive and i’m terrified to get my permit
i don’t wanna accidentally ****** someone or myself in a car crash
you had a boy best friend in the front seat
and now i’m entirely numb and empty
what have i come to?

yes, i came home and wallowed in a puddle of my own forlorn tears
i can’t do anything else but sob

it’s my fault, it’s my fault, it’s my fault
i am to blame, you could’ve told me “hi”
but i am not gonna blame this tumbling storyline on you
you like this school environment better than me
and i completely understand your reasons
again, it’s my fault and i stripped away my own dignity.

i am more numb than morphine could ever make me

i plagued this earth until it became a wasteland
and now i am cursing the vultures that only want to pick up scraps they can’t find here

why oh why does it have to be me destined to shoo them away?