gardening hands
sliced wings—
you make me happy
and i don’t mean to sound corny
but it’s true.
i am not in love
but time isn’t creeping behind stone walls
time isn’t slithering like a snake
in this garden
the smile cannot stop before it hits my lips
the river is smooth
and settles in my throat
naturally.
i am not in love
but happiness is clinging to my torn sleeves
all the factory floors where my cold body laid so still
are getting renovated,
new floor plan.
harsh sea waters have calmed
after waging a war of hatred.
i am not in love
but this town feels bigger than usual
this gust of wind upon my head
is slowing by the minute.
the hour does not creep,
it moves along,
no hissing nor shouting nor demanding.
i am not in love
but the night spins achingly through my ceiling
as i beg and beg and plead for the sudden heat of the morning sun
sooner, faster
restrain me
i am not in love
i am only
happy

i have a c+ in chemistry
i have a basic style
i am so far from prodigy
it takes me 10 minutes to run a mile
    
             failure
but why do i desire to be more than one?
    
                             i still think college is an
                             option
   community
college is the best i’ll ever be

                                my friend said that i don’t
                     wanna be trailer trash
                  
    well, i don’t let my worth be defined by grades
  never
                     -no way

it hurts
my pain is immense
i am weird
i am failing
i am a failure
    
                                     and people have the
                                                     guts to say
                                   ahem, no you’re not

you aren’t a mistake or a blank part of a page
  
  
            oh, honey
            trust me
                            I have tried a million times to    
                          
                            BELONG

but ever since my best friend left
    every place i’ve been is
                                                  lOpSidEd
     ­                                             uPPsiDe-doNwnn
  
               i pray to God every night
        and things change
                He helps me through the car crashes
     the beatings
-the emotion

                             i swear,
                                             i owe Him
        i should have redid the lab i already did
    
      ***** you chemistry!
      you’re disgusting!

                           you’ve got me resorting to
                                 yelling at classes
                            and grades i can’t help

a problem

and they are taking ap chemistry
    and they are smart
and might get accepted into harvard
       and they will have wives who bake
  blueberry pie
and five kids in a red minivan
       like my mom and dad
  
                                    failure
          

  ­              i have to go outside
            to tan, to feel like i’m alive
                to try to determine the rest of my life
           at fifteen years old
        
                                              i don’t even trust myself with my chem grades
  
             let alone the whole rest of my life
  
                                                               if only
        we weren’t defined by the grades we get

but society says
  
                        
                                try me, little girl

when the mountains
come crashing down upon
the crops
and smother us
like a mother
maybe that’ll feel like
love
or wanting.
cause you fed the fire
in me
but now i’m burnt out
you planted the truth in me
but now only lies slip out
of my mouth.
come to think of it
the mountain
peaks are lower
than your
self esteem
can’t believe
i trusted you with
my blood
my tears
my values
you trampled them
like an avalanche.
liquid pours out of
my ears
my eyes fizzing
in them,
carbonation
is making an appearance.
sometimes i don’t know
what to do
i have no clue
what i am writing
right now
let alone
why my mind won’t
stop flooding with
images of your ivory skin.
this prison sentence
is on the brink
of ending.
thank Heaven.
and
i write to fill space
and that’s what
i did
with this.

i breathe in chemical aurora borealis
i dance in ballrooms with no one watching

he believed we were going to be inseparable lovers encaged inside of barbed wire
he believed i would be his muse,
till his last breath

but i breathe in chemical aurora borealis
i dance in ballrooms with no one watching

he breathes in rose blossomed newlywed smiles
he dances in spite of the acid rain

he believed we were an unstoppable tsunami
destined to keep growing and growing
enveloping all things into our youthful hearts

i believed we were a radioactive volcano
tension, tension, and tension
until suddenly we burst
into violent lava
and wreak havoc on the binds that hold us
together

he saw our glowing embers
never yet thought of the impending destruction
we would cause
with our hurricane stubbornness
and tornado hotheadedness

because

i breathe in chemical aurora borealis
i dance in ballrooms with no one watching

he breathes in idealistic remedies
he dances on stage as the curtain draws

he believed we would face this world together
like uplifted doves carrying olive branches in their beaks
i believed we would crumble
like every clumsy ancient civilization

but still i rest here,
with eyes devoid of aurora borealis projections
and i wish
that i would have
surrendered to his tsunami

i need to grasp the feeling of being washed away instead of hanging on to loneliness like it’s the last straw of my far fetched happiness
wash me away
i am useless if you cannot love me

it’s so hard to stomach it
that i would feel freer without your grip
to leap from the cascade of waterfall
blood in the water
stab wound under the blouse
it’s a woman killer,
staying put.
that when it’s airplanes plummeting from the gaping sky,
or when it’s thrashing swords,
it’s better to just stay silent
or run away
but how come running away is so tricky?
to just move those little feet
and leave the ditch you lay in
for blooming gardens and sky-kissing cities
but it’s impossible.
bruises gather on satin skin
snake bites bubble
and tears slip
and
the realization hits
but doesn’t hit hard enough
and it’s just sitting in trenches
waiting for the enemy to consume
me
but it’s a slow burn
and
it burns so terribly.
i have remained unspoken
i have let the automobiles crash into my haven
i have given them a place to rest,
a place to stay in
and i
regret it.
regret meeting you
regret encouraging you
regret being anything near you.
you’ll stare at my grave in the ground
and you’ll just shrug it off,
move some dirt over it,
but it only covers the evidence
not the girl that sits
with her knees clenched
sobbing in fits
of anguish
caused by your tyrannical hunger
to give life to lonely people
and then take it away.

yet sometimes the water is calm;
there are no ripples caused by incongruity
no collapsing dams, no inundations
just peace.
and it’s safe in this place
i say
but one ever knows when rain
might be too heavy
and one never knows when their house is about to get flooded.

all i do is damage myself for you.

i am content with being away from you
lost on my own continent
stranded on an island
your words seep through my skin
hurting like knives and shards of china glass

i am content with being away from you—from this, from us
i am content to hide inside a seashell and never come out
melted bones into hermit crab forms
fate accepted

i am content with being away from you—from the way you treat me
it is halloween in my nightmares
always dressed up as a princess or a queen when really all i feel inside is that i should be a
vampire or a zombie
meandering along the path of self-destruction

i am content with being away from you—from your fangs, from your grimy hands
i am content with staying put on an ocean raft just rising and falling as the waves swallow me up and spit me back up
selflessly free as a turtle riding the inevitable current

i am content with being a person far far away from you
making my own decisions with a smile gleaming on my face
waking up and walking outside on my own accord
listening to the sound of morning doves instead of the chaotic sound of sirens

i am content with myself—content with the life that doesn’t have you in it
gritty sandy harsh words grating against my smooth and vibrant skin
you will not give me heatstroke from the flames you breathe from the fire congested city
the tides will carry you, sandstorms will bury you, and tornadoes will whisk you away
far far from the whereabouts where i call home

i am content to be away from you.
i am content to be alone.

firstly: i know one hundred and fifty percent that i will blush when i see your face after all these years. my smile will morph into a full face frenzy of happiness. and i will definitely hide behind my friend that i see basically every single day. sorry, you always brought out my nerves
secondly: i miss you and i have missed you so incredibly much ever since you left and i left too. i don’t want to admit that unless you read my poetry one day, which i might end up giving you the username and you’ll read every poem i have ever written, you will never know what i truly feel about you. breach of privacy, but it’s for you. cause i wrote almost every time i missed you and i tried to summon you as if you would appear outside of my window, throwing rocks, waking me up in the middle of the still night. maybe you don’t miss me?
thirdly: i will struggle making conversation with you. i was always horrible at doing that before, but now it’s gonna be even worse. you will laugh and say i am being awkward and then i will laugh to try to cover the awkward, but it will always creep around the corners where i reside. i am hoping it can be just like before without any hesitation
fourthly: i am gonna show up to impress, probably in ripped jeans that show off my thighs. maybe you will be encapsulated by my features and maybe ask for my number that you never got. who am i kidding? from you stemmed my worst insecurities and the nights when i sobbed the loudest in the pouring rain. but i will still put my heart and my body out on the line, ready for objection and rejection of all kinds. maybe this time you will call me “pretty” or “pleasing.”
and lastly: life hasn’t been the same since i have seen you. i am afraid that i will act differently than you have been expecting. a different girl from a different world in a different form. don’t judge me for shifting my personality to fit in. whatever, as long as you say hi and we all have great recollections of such fantastic memories, i think it will all be ok. in the end, i am the only one who can control what i do and how i speak. i just can’t wait to see you and everyone else. and read my poems :D

ɪ ᴀᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛʀʏɴᴀ ᴊɪɴx ᴍʏsᴇʟғ
ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇɴ’ᴛ ᴇxᴘᴇʀɪᴇɴᴄᴇᴅ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇʀ’s ʙʟᴏᴄᴋ ɪɴ ᴀɴ ᴇɴᴛɪʀᴇ ʏᴇᴀʀ
ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ɪᴛ’s ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏssᴇᴅ ᴍᴇ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴄᴇᴀɴ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏᴄᴋs ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ sᴇᴀ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴜʀᴇs ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ sᴛᴏᴘᴘᴇᴅ sᴡᴀʀᴍɪɴɢ ᴍᴇ
ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ɪᴛ’s ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴀᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ sᴏᴍᴇ ᴋɪɴᴅ ᴏғ ᴘᴇᴀᴄᴇ
ᴇxᴛʀᴀᴠᴀɢᴀɴᴛ ᴀʙɪʟɪᴛʏ
ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ɪᴛ’s ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ɪ ʟᴇᴀᴘᴇᴅ ᴏғғ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴘʟᴀɴᴇ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴅᴇʟɪʀɪᴏᴜs ʜᴀᴢᴇ ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴄᴀᴍᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴀʏ
ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʜᴇɴ ɪ ᴡᴀs ᴘʟᴜᴍᴍᴇᴛɪɴɢ ᴛᴏᴡᴀʀᴅs ᴇᴀʀᴛʜ sᴏ ғᴀsᴛ ᴘᴀᴄᴇᴅ
ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴀᴄʜᴜᴛᴇ ᴅᴇᴘʟᴏʏᴇᴅ
ᴋᴇᴘᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴀᴛ ɴᴇᴡ ʜᴇɪɢʜᴛs ɪ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ɪ’ᴅ ᴇᴠᴇʀ sᴇᴇ
ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ɪᴛ’s ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ɢʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ғɪʀᴇᴡᴏʀᴋ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪᴅɴɪɢʜᴛ sᴋʏ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ғɪɴᴀʟʟʏ sᴇᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɢʜᴛ
ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ sᴇᴇ ᴛʜᴇ sᴛᴀʀs, ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴏɴ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʟᴀɴᴇᴛs
sᴍɪʟɪɴɢ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴀᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴀs ɪғ sᴀʏɪɴɢ
“ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ’ᴠᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴀ ʟᴏɴɢ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ɪᴛ.”
ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ sʜᴀᴅᴏᴡs sᴛᴀʀᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴄᴏᴀᴛ ʜᴀɴɢᴇʀs ᴀɴᴅ ᴅʀᴇssᴇʀs ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴇᴅs
ɪ ᴡᴀsɴ’ᴛ ᴀғʀᴀɪᴅ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʀᴋ
ɪ ʙᴀsᴋᴇᴅ ɪɴ ɪᴛ
ᴅᴇᴇᴘʟʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴀᴅʟʏ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ sᴛɪʟʟɴᴇss ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ
ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ sᴇᴇᴍs ʟɪᴋᴇ ɪᴛ ɪs ᴘᴇʀғᴇᴄᴛʟʏ ʙᴀʟᴀɴᴄᴇᴅ
ᴀɴᴅ ᴍʏ ғɪɴɢᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴄᴀʟʟᴜsᴇᴅ
ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ sᴛᴏᴘᴘᴇᴅ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ sɪɴᴄᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏssᴇᴅ ᴍᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴄᴇᴀɴ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴡᴀs ᴅᴏᴜsᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʀᴇᴇɴɪsʜ ᴄʟᴇᴀʀ ᴡᴀᴛᴇʀ
ғᴀʟʟ ғɪʀsᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇɴ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴢᴇ
ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴇᴇᴅᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ғᴀʟʟ ᴛᴏ ғɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ᴘᴜʀᴘᴏsᴇ ɪɴ ʟɪғᴇ
ᴀɴᴅ sᴏ ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇɴ’ᴛ ʜᴀᴅ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇʀ’s ʙʟᴏᴄᴋ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴡʜᴏʟᴇ ʏᴇᴀʀ
ᴡᴏᴡ, ɪ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴛʜɪs ᴋɪɴᴅ ᴏғ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ɪs sᴇᴠᴇʀᴇ

thank dear God for such a fantastic year
he sent me angels
cloaked in sand dollars
and i have been so happy this entire year
because of you dear
thank you for being there for me when i went to school
dying and crying into my knuckles cause i didn’t have many friends
but you propped me up on my nightstand and allowed me to run to you
when my back was aching and i love you for your comfort
thank you for being a distraction in all this madness
in the pouring rain you were my umbrella
thank you for making my 2021 better
and providing me Heaven
:)

i talk to my friend on the phone
but i can’t help but wish it was a boy
cause we could sneak out late just to laugh at ourselves
or swing on the swing set and you could catch me midair
but wait, these are fantasies
i will never be loved
by a boy who will wrap me up in his arms
treasure me and tell me i’m one of a kind
and not want my body but long for my soul
yearn for my presence and not for the immodest clothes that i wear
i wish it could be like 1922
when boys were men and girls were women
all of the romances written at that time
were sweet and delicate and dainty and slices of life
whereas now i hate every boy that i see because they like my figure and dislike me
but maybe i’m a rambler
and i have nothing to complain
even so, i’m just as lonely at the end of the day
i wish there was someone who would be my umbrella in the rain
but those boys are so scarce nowadays
i fear they’ve gone away
extinct
dead
eliminated
i’m waiting for the day we are all monsters
not waiting for the day when i find a 60 degree day love
in between my polyester sheets
when we both wake up
and we are just in peace

i understand that you don’t want to be a human
causing problems or making the news
or just trying to exist without lighting a fuse
with some thickheaded scoundrel
but
lay low
don’t mind the throbbing hearts
the fire breathing sweat machines
who slice heads off just for fun or for selfish reasons
slip into your burrow
the hyenas and lions don’t dig
(i think so)
if you drown out the noise, the noise will sound like a murmur
of distant chatter
it won’t matter
only emerge to get some food for thought
so on that note,
you won’t see me in a couple of years
at least until the fire swallows up the earth
and manages to seep into the dirt
that’s when i’ll emerge

i missed his party so i didn’t get to see you
   and i write as if you hear my anguish
   as if you care enough to listen
**** it, i would give you my poems to read
    i miss you
    because without you, i blame it on myself
perhaps we were made to break
   to crack on hardwood floors and windows
   to grow apart as the famine destroys
i missed his party because i was sick
   so we didn’t get to mend our relationship
   and our beaten hearts are ruined

      i missed his party so now i miss you

POV-
ur best friend of five years at least (ur horrible at math) has left you for a structure and you lay there on your bed confused. Life had just started getting good. U had a phenomenal teacher, “friends,” lovers (i mean you were like eleven so more like crushes) good grades and every luxury the world could give to you. it’s halloween night and you don’t even know it’s the last time you are going to be speaking with ur best friend. and after that you start to miss her and see her in unlit candles and McDonald’s hamburgers. you read ur old text messages and you bawl into your knuckles until u are sore and you have to stop for ur greater good. u avoid eye contact with her because now you are inside the place that she left you for and you feel immeasurable to its warm embrace. you don’t tell your new friends about your cluelessness of why she stopped talking to you. u leave this all untouched and no one can collapse the property you built for your furious self. And you grow tired every day of having to hide from such a public relationship that you develop social anxiety. u start to feel eyes all over you all the time and you can’t sleep well at night because there might be a ghost under ur bed. and ur life becomes pointless because who should you be living for now? u contemplate saying something to her, but you fear rejection so much that you cower in the dusty corner and u are safe... right? oh, but ur still gonna turn red and pink and purple after dreams are torn and scraped like the crumbs on the table. u ache with every bone in your body and every cell wishes you would just say “hi” to the closest stranger ever. but ur mouth shakes and trembles and you grow tired of always having to try after SHE left U for a building that would crumble in less than four years. a building that wouldn’t even last longer than ur “friendship.” but u don’t feel angry, you just feel numb and ur phone vibrates from other people who cared enough to call you smart or say you knew more than them in spanish class and you realize that some people will never care enough to talk or never want to rekindle what you thought they would and you are ok with it. because friends are fluctuations and you are probably never gonna see the man who asked you to help him walk across the street again, so why would you care if it was anyone else? u are unstoppable and ur best friend is just an old friend and that’s how the world is. and you will not cry about it

i am homeless in this hopelessness
aimlessly bound in the instability
fragile, weak, pathetic.

there’s a string tied to my seemingly weightless ankles
brutally thrashing
splashing in inescapable fate
along the carefully constructed dock
two hands hover over the water
they do not reach in to pull me out.
they do not reach in to pull me out.

humoring the doubt that inhabits a single house above an ocean current
counting the comets in the sky
this is sincere gasping
clawing at the murk
there is a bright lighthouse lamp flashing
but there is a blindfold closed over my pupils
nearby a ship sits docked upon the shore
held by a ten-foot anchor
the captain does not try to reach my boat.
the captain does not try to reach my boat.

there is an island in an unnamed ocean in an unknown location
the organisms gnaw on my skeletal structure
and among this plight
rare will a light start to shine
there are feet that ne’er surrender
but there are lungs that must concede
there are nights upon us that will slip me in underneath the veil of false serenity
there are failures that will taunt us
with their vines
like black silhouettes that howl
in the deepest darkness.

and the fair truth is that i will never be rescued.

tiny footprints in the grainy sand

-gunshots

tiny footprints in the salt licked sand

tiny footprints stay in the sand

until the tide washes away all the evidence

now i am doubting that i will see you
it seems way way too good to be true
march third is too close
i could wear it like a scarf
i thought i wanted to see your dim lit face
but now i am nervous
and i am stapling my fingers
anticipating everything
escalating the situation

ever been anxious about seeing someone you’ve known for ten years before?
well, i am
and you might not even be there
might not want to waste your time on such time consuming activities
i wouldn’t blame you
i have never been interesting let alone stand alone material

now i am contemplating and overthinking
why can’t i just stop torturing myself?
this is getting out of hand
this is over some stupid reunion
this is getting so overwhelmingly nerve-racking
and it’s wailing so loud
like a siren in the sea
that you wouldn’t want to die for
or get eaten alive by
it’s so excruciating
the pain i feel when i relapse
and when i fixate on the silly things

help.
that isn’t a request
that is a demand
a constant reminder that i am spiraling
and that you will never help.
and that i will never regain my strength
to climb up the steep mountain

help.
i am so serious this time
the days are getting longer
and you are getting farther away from me
please help.
especially since this is all because i am worried that you might not come
show up and look me in the eyes
or wonder what i am doing on such a perplexing thursday night

now i am doubting that you will even show
so i am lining this heart of mine with barricades so no foreigner can get inside
come if you can
if you have the time
but i won’t cry
if you only stay for a little while
just stay.

imagining through the blue light on my screen
whispering profanities at my low life presenting personality
having had brunch with my cousin and my aunt pretending to be more of less of myself
it’s good to know they won’t know my full truth and personality and quirks since they wouldn’t come around anymore if they did
keeping secrets to secure family lines or at least the manifested faulty ties inside my mind
getting more comfortable with the fact that people shouldn’t have identities
never wanting people to know who i truly am or what i stand for

when we are younger we want everyone to be our friend and we don’t judge with cold steel eyes
we go up to the nearest person and we start playing with toys together
of course, i never did since i was the shyest kid ever, walking into kindergarten for the first time was traumatizing for me
kids don’t think about things such as slim waists or “too much” kinds of personalities
i don’t think i was aware of my identity till kids starting calling me ugly and saying they didn’t like me anymore
i came home crying, turning on the shower, knowing i wasn’t good enough for my peers
terrified for the first time in my life that i wouldn’t be accepted and i would be the bullied one on the outskirts
always wanting to be popular and liked was on my mind constantly, but at least i was being  
myself

nowadays, i hide away from people, knowing that when they speak to me i won’t be able to hold a conversation, knowing that they wouldn’t like the version of me that is embedded deep into my skin
my identity lies in my hands, manipulated to feel established, fiddled with to earn head nods

when i am older, in the partying age, someone might want to experiment touching my skin and creating divots where they placed their heavy fingers
might only wanna know what time i go to bed and purposely make me skip it, won’t wanna know what my favorite place to eat is after a long and strenuous cry, won’t wanna know why my identity is so secretive
won’t wanna know the flaws on my body that my mind has scrutinized for years upon years
just like harry styles said in fine line, “spreading you open is the only way of knowing you.”
we are so body and pleasure focused, knowing anyone anymore is like finding a needle in a haystack

sometimes i can be afraid to meet new people because they might not like me or i might never show them my true colors although the latter is a me problem
i’ll make friends who won’t know my favorite band and memorize all their song lyrics like i did when the anxiety was pumping into my veins rapidly
i’ll make friends who will come and go and get buried and get taken advantage of and maybe i won’t know their backstory because they might have chosen to hide their identity one day just like i did

proving your place in this world is exhausting and having a couple friends sprinkled in every capital city is soul *******
it starts to make you feel like these people are only around so you can raise your social status in the midst of robotic people with plastic instead of skin because they always hated their flaws and no one ever said they were beautiful and that it was actually society that shoved botox into their faces
wrinkles aren’t ugly, they are aging factors
stress isn’t avoidable, you can’t pile wax in your face to make it all come to a close

we stop being innocent and thinking the world is pure in middle school, some even earlier
we realize santa doesn’t come down a chimney and give us gifts every year, it’s our literal parents
our parents sell and tell us lies and we believe them because naivety hovers inside our brains
no wonder adults always call kids stupid and inept, they sold us detrimental lies in the first place, telling us to believe in magic, saying that the easter bunny actually came around when we should be talking about Jesus, it’s literally His holiday, God forbid

identity sprouts from human beings desiring to put each other into tiny boxes
“evil, shady, kind, jerky, angsty.”
no wonder everyone’s so ******* up nowadays, they just wanted to be accepted into these tiny labels and they never did so instead they cut themselves and slit their throats
their guts might be considered to be conforming, so the jousters will leave you on your death bed alone, in silence, smiling in ghost form, so happy you made the decision to just cut the world off
some of us aren’t that devoted

i have had plenty of different identities in my life, but never once have i loved myself
even if their lyrics holler “self love” i won’t be able to relate to that
good for everyone who can, it’s just not me
look—right there, what is me?
who am i?
in this world, what should i be, what identity does society want (need) me to be represented by?
but
whoever i am, i hate her

some of us don’t want to climb out of the tower by ourselves
some of us need to be saved
and if that means i am a damsel in distress
then so be it

i am sick of this false “female empowerment”
when it’s really just shoving ur agenda in others faces
i get sexism exists
but not everything needs to be female, female, female
a woman can do this
a woman is stronger than a man (biologically- heck no)
a woman doesn’t have to wear pink laced prom dresses and high heels (but what if she wants to?!)
a woman this, a woman that
even me, as a young woman
can’t seem to fathom why we need to shove just to make people realize
and we all know they are just rolling their eyes
this fake female empowerment, this damsel in distress, “i’m tired of the woman always getting saved”
i am not
because sometimes there’s no other way
chivalry is almost dead
because the woman who wants her husband to open the door for her and her groceries won’t
he says, who cares?
a woman is just as capable
open that dang door by yourself, Janet!

and then we have all these insane people saying it’s a woman’s right to do whatever she wants with her body
but what about the other body in her body
are we just gonna let innocent children die because some woman claimed it was her “right”?
come on, people

i understand that
woman still have a little way to go with progression and full women’s rights
but not everything is against women and their pride

let me watch snow white and call it romantic
let me dream and pine and wish for a prince to save me by his castle while stabbing a dragon
let me be saved by a man sometimes
let me get kissed when i have been poisoned
let me do something powerful without calling me a girl boss
let me do everything a man can, but without making a sound
let our bodies stop being used as symbols to empower
because some of us women hate ourselves and what our bodies have gone through and we are embarrassed
a body is a vessel, not some kind of boss-like female defining characteristic
let us be empowered without saying it
without taking off our clothes and dancing with the crystal lake in the background
please stop saying girl power because it makes me want to *****
we already have power
makes it seem as if we gain our power
but there’s no men power, huh?
we don’t say “boy power!”
no because it sounds stupid

i am a girl but i am not stomping around saying girls are better than boys, i hate all men
girls don’t get the job done better
they just make more noise to let people know they’re there

ugh, damsel in distress
so what
i least i get saved

picture the luminescence  
cheekbones flexed
a flare of light
a bit of strength

you always inhabit the areas that reek with filthy phrases
ecstasy bleeding out of your weak bones
cause you follow the crowd that drowns in submarines
and coughs out their black lungs

picture the seaside town
its cliffs beside sandy beaches
the rapture  
illuminated by the irises of the world

fire escapes and lurid streetlights
the buzz of electricity

don’t forget the beauty amidst the demolition


but
you tell me this is fog, although i’m inhaling smoke

they tore down the pool in my hometown
the place i went during the summer to cool off
my old stomping ground to go for fun
my childhood is slipping further and further away
every single day

your muted applause
in a vacant miscalculated amphitheater.
if it makes noise,
i don’t hear it.
if it doesn’t,
i’ll pretend to.
i’ll tie your vapid words to my feet
and sing with the past fallen civilizations.
at least we’ll have something in common.
envy like ivy,
creeping up the walls
of my abandoned house in the
middle of the woods.
i’ll preach for the choirs
singing my guts out
for the fakers and
gladiators who all doubt my strength
cause’ pull away when you feel like the plot for ****** is starting to include your name.
somehow it doesn’t stain bitter snakeskin,
it only brings closure to being with who i don’t
consider to listen to
all the notes carried
so forcefully.
my stage is starless,
gotta confess that
the acoustics are awful;
forgot to smile.
you would’ve listened
if you really wanted to.
you would’ve licked the seal of the envelope
mailed it to me
to show your gratitude
and your generosity.
but instead you sit forging
your own signature
on the corpse of this friendship
while i cry over spilled milk
and birthday cake smudges
over tile floors
too repulsed to mop anymore.
too unhinged to care anymore.
too alive to be killed by your sword.
too loud, but not loud enough
for the sound to travel to your eardrums.
still, it’s not much to ask for you to just move
a little closer.

i wanted to be a prodigy at spanish
so i could be better than someone
at something, anything
i guess i will never be better
and i should just accept that sooner
or
later

you sit behind me in international studies
i never look at you
maybe you recognize me...
   maybe you often want to say my name
especially after hearing my new companions saying it
     elucidate what you are feeling
make it so i can become a ninja with you again
and laugh in the schoolyard
    you are basically dead
you wispy deserted ghost town please show me what you think about me how....
     i kissed you
and i always knew my lips were not good enough of a souvenir
  everyone forgets about me anyway
     but i always become a revenant
here forever if you open your eyes or if you don’t forget the tributes of my life....


      you sit behind me in international studies
and i will never look at you because you will never ever bother to look for me

what do i have to bear?
an impromptu regression
to the form i was when i couldn’t feed myself
now i wander on the fields
connecting roads to their familiar destinations
i don’t want to feed myself
the sustenance that enters is a formidable beast
a creature who desperately longs to hurt me
my stomach hungers for a substance that won’t dictate the afternoons i have.
passed out upon a feathery bed
hands clutched to my stomach
as it groans.
when will the nightingale wake me up from this nightmarish disorder?
as though he isn’t already dead on my windowpane
i forgot to feed everyone else in my unbridled purge
once my life ends will i figure out that
the storm can mirror the looks of your body
and it’s not you?
if i saw a glance of my reflection
in the same pool that Narcissus did
would i drown myself because of all the hatred i feel towards myself?
it’s not me in the photographs.
oh, nightingale where do you rest?

i write and bruise my fingers just to escape
just to get a remedy for this pain
the pressure stops burning ever so slightly
but the scars still remain
still hang on my flimsy body
making towns and cities and villages
people living inside of my solar system

STOP!
calm down.
they can’t see you.
their eyes are like steel.
like iron.
life kills.
that’s what’s so evil about it.
but you can’t escape the jaws of the inevitable.
you need to stop thinking.
i mean, the overthinking type.
the type of thinking that makes your brain spin.
that escalates every tiny situation.
your pain comes from opening your eyes too wide.
shut them.
breathe.
stop panicking.
you will never be able to escape except in death.
but even the dead are lonely.
even the dead char and sear in pits they were locked in.
stop overthinking.
you write because you want to evaluate what you feel.
not just because it’s the only way to bolt away from crowded rooms and upset stomachs.
don’t bruise your fingers while touching the pen.
stop overthinking.

wAiT...
i think that i get it
sorry for all the run-on sentences
i don’t care much for punctuation
i sure don’t think rapidly about that
i just do it
so, in settings where it matters
everything in my brain halts
and i freeze
why can’t i just breathe?
it pains me to think that i am hurting my own self with my own knives
stabbing me in the heart
i shouldn’t let my hands become numb because of scribbling in the lines
i should press the pen gingerly upon the paper
softly
and i should just do it
without hesitation
just prove i can withstand the erosion
but at least i know
i write to express
and
life kills
that’s what’s so evil about it.

you say you don’t love him anymore
yet you always blush and turn pink when he’s around
you get giddy and you tell me to do things
and if i refuse, you speed walk in the other direction
you still have a bonfire buried deep inside those smoking lungs
your soul keeps gathering sticks
your heart keeps lighting matches
inflaming and heating up the blazes of the man-eating fire
you say you don’t love him anymore
but he still affects your ethereal smile
he still changes your attitude
and you will never not love him
so stop lying to yourself
and stop letting him capture your mood
and put it in a russian doll
layers upon layers
without discovering the truth
you say you don’t love him anymore
but i know you still do

maybe i was never meant to fit in
i am the bystander
the sidestepper
the ignorant
maybe i was never meant to mean anything
i was supposed to be the “maybe”
or the “later”
and i am so so so so sick of this
my voice is cracking as i speak and yell and scream
notice me!
don’t keep me around if i do no good
this must be torture
or meaningful
for some stupid stupid reason
maybe i should just run to russia
or stop dang TRYING
stop TRYING to impress every stranger
stop TRYING to impress people my age
stop TRYING to become someone i ain’t
stop TRYING to be a friend or a side piece
i will just race my own shadow in a field of flowers
i will ALWAYS win
cause me myself and i can’t ruin anything
that’s exactly how i should be

i stabbed my demons with a double-edged sword
it punctured my skin as well
and with that blood, i wrote your name,
not in times new roman,
but in my own special font
i cried over the torn parts of my flesh
but we all grow out of our tears,
don’t we?
after i stabbed my demons with a double-edged sword,
they climbed up into my brain cavities
and they took more
than i ever self sabotaged out of me
i carried my fallen blood in the suitcase
i will bury myself alive in one day
my demons spill secrets instead of blood
from their dreary corpses
and i rapidly try to gather them
in my dismay
if you write them away, they just come back stronger
because words aren’t indelible,
they can be erased
if you try to make peace with them,
they take too much of you
and label it a treaty
when it is honestly just tyranny
call it by no other name
if you start a war,
they start a revolution
and soon they have the entire universe up against you,
and no matter what anyone says,
you can’t beat the universe
you aren’t the avengers
you can’t do any of these things
and expect them to dissipate
and dissolve into the snowfall
you have to take yourself out
with the weapon you chose to ****** them in cold blood with
you have to bestow a double-edged sword
and you have to willingly sacrifice your entire self and more
cause unlike seasons, demons never leave
unless you **** their host
here goes nothing

you like the wild type
rides in your car
lipstick stains on your leather seats
beer breath
headbangers playing guitar
tiny skirts
playful smirks
driving 100 miles in a 70
tabletop dances
soft fingertips
bloodshot cherry red eyes

but honey,
i spend my days in bed
dreaming of love,
butterflies and honeysuckles
my shorts are not too short
i don’t gaze longingly at random men
in public
i listen to boy bands
don’t leave lipstick stains
in stranger’s cars
i get to know people first

you like the wild type
but you could always give me a try
i can be wild in some ways
like going camping
and kissing for a few seconds
tackle me in the haystack
hold me like you wish you
never would have touched anything else
we don’t need late night ***** sessions
after getting obliterated
we can share hotel rooms
and sleep in separate beds
to keep it cutesy
road trips across the country
off-roading
while obeying the speed limit
contentment spreading across the flowers
and it reaches the sky

you know,
i’m not the original wild type
but i can go wild and crazy for you anytime

there were people dining in a roller skating rink
i was a waitress in a tiny skirt
you saw me
possibly in the corner of your eye
i was pretending i didn’t see you
but it didn’t matter
cause you saw me.
you were so excited
for...me?
i thought you hated me
but you brought me over and
begged with your eyes for me
to extend my arms and
embrace you
i did, cause why not?
and then
it faded to black.
now it’s back to reality.
yes, it was just a dream.