i never loved you like that
it was just that you were
a raft to my dehydrated,
ocean-soaked body.
i never loved you.
i never loved your pores or your sweet talk,
it was just that you were the tourniquet that stopped the bleeding.
you were the peace treaty.
it was just that you were
the smiling child to my baby fever.
the edge of my doom was a little grassy field
off the cliff—
it was you.
i was never
—will never—
be in love with you
but you were a handmade quilt
constructed with a mother’s caring kiss
that laid over my body
so that the cold could not nip.
you were a constant.
and i know you know
i will never be in love with you
but i love you for what you made me,
for what you allowed me to become.
i will love you
till all time
for teaching me how to love who i am.
and hopefully,
one day,
i will be able to return the favor.

the woman.
she’s soft and young and impressionable.
the woman.
she’s kind and compassionate and beautiful.
the air she breathes
curtsies at her feet.
the happiness she bears
makes her complete.
the feathers in her long hair.
the eyelashes on her innocent face.
the fire blazing
inside of her heart.
the pathways inhabiting
her brain.
the woman hides
from the storm.
the rain falls on her back
and never apologizes.
the moon carefully watching
her smile form.
the woman runs from danger.
the danger dissipates into the atmosphere.
the pinecones shivering at the close call.
the woman dances in soggy puddles.
bathes her body in a stream
that touches her skin rhythmically.
the woman takes flight with the birds.
swooping above forest lines.
the woman rests when it comes a time.
she lets her rapid heart slow.
she tames her impulses
and lets her truth grow.
the woman shoots arrows as the sun rises.
she begs for warmth.
she feels her heart fill
with love and with caution.
the woman often strays beyond the path.
she explores the rocks, the twigs, the earth.
she breathes sweetly.
her arms flap freely.
the woman finds a crystal in the woods.
she shelters it from the beastly wolves.
holds it in her palms.
allows its full form to sprout.
encourages its struggles
repeats sweet phrases.
the woman lays down
with the body she tends to.
she lets the world
fill her with whatever it may.
no matter the consequence.
the woman sings as the river rushes.
she watches the moon sink beneath
the horizon.
she’s the kind of woman i wish to be.

i murdered you twice but you didn’t know
i need cities and flat screens and muses and crowds
i need death on my lips,
crime worth committing
people worth talking to
love meant confessing
i hated everyone that i thought i knew
loved those who promised things but didn’t follow through
there’s women who struck my cheek with their words
and men that made me feel unworthy of the world
and i’ve lost who i was
and found who i am
no one can tell me what i stand
for. i carve my initials in every bathroom stall,
and i ache and the pain sometimes goes away
i knock on doors, hoping for miracles
you ever hoped so much
and it came true?
well, maybe with you,
i’ll continue to do
so
i’ll light the candles, turn off the lights,
dream of the person i’ll love tonight
and if it’s you, don’t fret, don’t worry
i’ll love you like i know how to which is right.

maybe it’s true, maybe it’s true,
maybe it’s something to do with you
maybe it’s true, maybe it’s true,
that i’ll spend this year loving you
maybe i’ll laugh, maybe i’ll cry,
maybe i’ll spend a lifetime asking why
why, why, why, why?
why, why, why, why?
why not, why not?
why not i?

and there is an ache
and there is a name
never confessed,
never admitted
the world was a bit softer when held with your gaze
there is a name
it sounds awfully like yours
like a poem, like a song,
like a new earth unfolding
from hearing it spoken.
and there is a time,
there is a warning,
love me one day,
choose the yearning.  
no space or time
could make me thinner
smaller or lighter
when your love is dawning.

why is love hard when it’s all i lived off of?
the backs of the weary men,
the hands of the mothers
that don’t know the time, neither the weather
so if you wanna stay,
the longer, the better.

the mirror plays favorites
she twiddles the beauty queen’s golden hair
she puckers up so lipstick can be placed on her full lips
her hair the perfect length to play with
not dry, but smooth and so healthy

she picks the prom queen’s silky dress with dignity
it’s perfect for her malnourished body
it lays and sits so beautifully
the mirror sees her and appreciates the craft she created
grins, and puts silver and gold expensive earrings on her ears

but when i approach,
she turns her face in disgust
throws an outfit at me; ripped jeans and a tacky t-shirt
she says i’m too fat and that i should keep my legs far apart so people don’t notice how weird i look
she grimaces at me and i walk away bashfully
‘never letting her look at me again’
i say
but
i always come back for her critical opinion
and i accept it
that’s exactly what i am
not beautiful, a fat failure

looking around the room
watching the door
the windows
every entrance
just to see if you would come back to me

crickets.

only my eyes are lit up by the moon
the tears are streaming in slow mo
the door still hasn’t opened

that’s it.

tonight i sit with a tightened noose

and a woman with tights
and jaguar plotting eyes
sits beside my body  

there’s dust and gravel
in the crevices of my sandals
and the laundry is upon the floor

tonight i sit with a bruise on my cheek

not from the pure pain i received
but from the pain that was
once masked as love

there’s a tree where i once stood
beyond the voices of doubt or condemnation
and the branches sway without hesitation

tonight i sit in the halo of the red moon

and
tonight i wish it wasn’t me,
instead that it was you

there comes a slow, soft afternoon pace and a dinner bell
i sweat, jogging, to the table,
soaked with the cherry blood red fruit of my labor.
when my meal is served,
there’s grease in the pan
and my hands are black as coal,
so it lathers my throat and turns sore.
unfixable bellyaches and frequent *****.
my hairbrush combs knots of dead hair, clumps in my fists
and the mother is a cross old women,
apathetic and unforgiving
she touches with a stonewall embrace
she tells me i am worth something,
and then she tells me i am not
as i scrub the dirt from every single step she takes
and wash my entire mouth with soap after every word that i slip up and say.

yet there is a place inside the trees
where there are fawns and fairies and peacemakers
and the meadow sings almost humanly
with a beautiful flute and a distant harp
and that is where the light is the brightest.
there are no cold, empty corners
hidden by the dusty rust of time
there are only staircases leading to the sky
and bounding rabbits and seashells nowhere near the sea,

but in this house,
the cruel and unforgiving mother
owns me
and i cannot fathom escape  
in this fit of naivety.

these quiet soft bodies in the forest are suffering
there is an endless question in the mouths of the rivers
there are scoundrels dressed in foggy black smoke
making peace with themselves while killing everyone else
their canines sharp, their chilling howling winds making the spirits’ hair stand on edge

these quiet soft bodies in the woods are suffering
there is a constant pounding of war drums beyond the horizon
buried underneath silk-spinning spiders and fool’s gold
there are ghastly ghosts shrieking for eternity in their eternal vacant brains
their tepid seething souls scavenging the abandoned corpses like vultures

these quiet soft bodies in the darkness are suffering
there is a hazy fog that blinds the earth from the heathens that have been buried in vain
they have bulging eyes and stigmatic circumstances protruding through the silence
tempestuousness swirling beneath their feet as in a hurricane churns up the foamy water
they see red coals and embers in the cores of any sane soul
they will gag you with a temper, leaving anger imprinted on your skin  

these quiet soft bodies in the emptiness are suffering
their cries for help are being intercepted by the government that birthed them
leaving them to be swallowed by the jet-black monsters that lurk in the shadows
there is a mask that is worn over their heads before their sense gets scraped off of their skin
they never have to feel a thing, the gashes only give a sense of victimhood

these quiet soft bodies in the nothingness are suffering
they are getting eroded away, thrown up in flames, spewing out ****** teardrops
they are hunted down and shot, seasoned perfectly and oiled
the trees groan from the fumes exuding up beyond the sky line
their branches fall off as they look the other way, vapid in their deliberations

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

i hate the sun

why?

maybe it’s because i am never truly fully happy
or because i don’t want my ***** pale and wretched skin illuminated in the light for everyone and their mother to see
maybe because the sun shined when i was having a crisis and now i resent his rays
or because the sun is gorgeous and i am not and jealousy can eat someone alive
i am sick of watching the sun rise and fall almost every single day
only a few clouds bid me goodnight
maybe that’s why i find comfort in the gray and the gloom
because i can hide in the cracks and crevices and in the light from the moon
i hate the sun because he understands how much i despise him and yet he still returns over and over again
my family say that i sound crazy
sound like a vampire or something
i just retreat and retreat
the sun shouldn’t follow me shouldn’t define me shouldn’t label me depressed for hating the extra light
but i will still hate the brightness of the sun no matter what

the swarm of flies is me
wheatgrass dry hair
regretting below the canopy
unkempt

listen, i don’t want to be your only,
your stop sign in the road
the swarm of flies is you
clouding my mind
making me confused

the rapid flight of tiny bodies
all dropping dead in front of me
unaware of their demise;
only aware of me

sweet breather,
the swarm of flies is you
panicked and anxious
erratic and angsty
i’ll never need a body to complete me
never need some hands to manhandle me into emotions i do not feel

maybe you’ll always need another skeletal system to inform you of how to exist
productively killing themselves
from within
the swarm of flies is you
a cold reaching hand outstretched to my flimsy bones
warning me to jump into the abyss with no real meaning behind it

the swarm of flies is me
my fluctuation of feelings
mixed signals and pushbacks

i’m sorry, other human,
so sorry i have retreated back into my own thoughts
pacing around a maze that’ll never be completed

the swarm of flies is me
for blaming you
for my own childish fears
for leaving you a corpse
mislead and exhausted

the swarm is me

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
:)

there’s something about belonging
that sounds so sweet
his clutch on my skin
my devastation from his manic-like episodes
his huge sweater dangling off my body
something like being someone’s pawn
look in the mirror and tell me who you are
without a him

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

oh, how i wish i could be those girls in miniskirts
those girls who make 360 turns
in their Range Rovers
those girls who have boyfriends in perms
those girls who never recycle
those girls who party all night and never see real struggles
those girls who find opportunities on their rich stepdad’s floor
those girls who walk lightly cause they’re attainable  

but those girls die early due to their depression
they overdose on medication cause the media’s attention is too
unconventional
they scream into their pillows at night and
cut their tongues to make an effort to be silent
they kick and punch, but the world has no sympathy
they get discarded and left for the next best thing

and so
maybe i don’t wanna be those girls
i wanna stick to my world
where normal isn’t boring, it is a staple
and in a world where the only thing the future holds
is the future
not sick and twisted girls in miniskirts

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

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

i've been let down
countless times.
i've lost who i was while not knowing who i've ever been
but it doesn't matter anymore. i've
sketched the ideas of people who have failed me over and over again,
or perhaps i have failed them.
offered myself to some kind of world that casts me out,
that calls me a stranger, a liar, a dancer with no stage.
i've lost the need to love--it never needed me,
how should i desire its harsh arms? for the sake
of fear, fear of existing alone, living for myself?
and what is being alone--
the loneliest i ever felt was in a crowd, a crowd that does not
look deep into itself
to realize its austerity, to realize its small mindedness.
but to be alone is when the phone never rings, the welcome is slow and uneasy, the whole world is singing to a melody you cannot understand.
when all you want to do is love,
but nothing wants to love you, not even yourself
and you don't even blame anyone anymore.
how could you?

hey, you.
i don’t know who you are
or what you look like
or where you work.
actually, i don’t care.
you are enough.
  i am a hopeless romantic.
  i hope that doesn’t scare you.
  i just dream of starlit picnics.
  dates on tiny boats in swampy lakes.
  looking into eyes full of diamonds.
i don’t know how this kind of thing works.
i have never had a boyfriend before.
teach me the ropes.

  this letter is awful,
  but i can’t wait for you to come along.
  dear future boyfriend,
  i hope that you’re the one.

i’ve been stuck
and you’re here.
your silky clothes,
your gentle understanding.
does the night seem heavy to you?
does it make you die inside?
does it make your bones shake
and your heart ache?
does the day take its toll,
leaving you an empty shell?
does it bring sadness in its arms?
does it leave hope dead in your yard?
all i’ve known is the void,
a sizable gap inside of my body,
a place no one dares to explore.
how am i stuck in a rotting bed,
in a world that’s unforgiving but won’t take the blame?
what will i do when the branches i climb collapse
and break these legs of mine?
fragile limbs.
frost bite.
what will you do
when the hole in my heart gets bigger
and i cannot hold it inside of me anymore?
if you cradle me, like the baby, the child i once was,
will i see my parents in your eyes?
will all this confusion make it even clearer
that your strength will carry me out of the deepest ditch?
my limbs are failing.
will you lift me to bed when i cannot climb the stairs?
lay me to rest, away from all the pain
and suffering in the living room
making jokes at someone else’s expense.
no one ever asks me to stay.



but you do.
you always do.

in the unrestrained tornado
i heard the scream of a little girl
she screeched and screeched and got louder with every breath she took
i heaved deeply
so deep i felt my ribs crack a bit
but it didn’t impair me
because i was too locked in to her helpless and terrified yet determined screaming
so locked in
that i didn’t take a moment to breathe

     and that’s when the winds died down
     the roaring halted
     stopped
     the shouting of the young girl was all gone
     the uncomfortableness that i felt, dissipated
     into the shadow of the night
     no damage had been done
     everything is all good now
     i didn’t know natural disasters could be
     created inside the mind of a poser

i used to know all your best friends,
just so you know
we used to giggle together in intimate classrooms

     but forget that, right?

i forgot the richness of politeness
the sweat dripped off my body
and your eyes dazzled like crystals.
a rose grew from the slight smile on your lips.
you awakened a fight or stay response in me

you reached out and touched my palms
and yours were not hot coals as i expected them to
be
they were violet and soft and smooth and moisturized
you didn’t have the crocodile disposition i dreamt you would

i felt like an animal that accidentally broke the glass of its confinement
and didn’t know what to do
with the scattering crowds and screaming children
so it just ran.

in your arms,
you caught me.
not too harshly,
but so i felt safety.

i owe you some serious debt for giving me
the simplest little smile along with
the tiniest little gestures

the claws of the lion dug into my spine,
razor-sharp and cruel

i didn’t deserve the kindness you showed me
i was scared you would hate me if i talked to you,
i didn’t know what to do.
the roses wilted inside my palms
as they stayed clumped from under the weight of my hands.

i pray that you blossom in your future
and i aspire to give the same kindness
as you have gifted to me.

girl in your salty apparition
drastic ammunition
posed for the dreary mood of the camera screaming slurs on
television
withheld by the standards of creation

poor girl
the daughter of society’s atrocities
you have synchronized heart failure
with the darkness
the desert sand engulfs you
it transports you into the hyperbolic grasp of reality

girl and your insatiable hunger to be bigger than the swords that chop off your limbs
you are the choices you make
you are the friends you make
you are the opportunities you take
you are the you that you are terrified of
the you that shines with red blood dripping from her fangs
the you that violates the system
the you that ingests chemicals so she can feel whole
the you that has been burned to the ground

girl in the danger zone that is your lungs
your venomous victimhood
encroaches on your meaning to exist
yet in spite of your crestfallen volition
you can divorce
the misnomers
you can transform
into a creature that looms over your sorrow
and pecks away at its core

girl in the heart, mind, body, and flesh
be the force of nature you couldn’t stomp out
be the ammunition that locks and loads and explodes
stop the premonition of an incoming battle
lock your jaw and
connect the fragments of your stricken language
yet don’t harden the hit on the clambering back
of the man who keeps all of his power
locked in a lockbox
don’t form a coalition
and strike his shoulder
with bleached eyelids
alike colluded soldiers following orders    

girl with your soggy teardrops
it will all be over
and the summer will hold you
with both of its arms
and you will embrace
not shortly, for a long period of time
and you 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 know love
and you 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 be acknowledged
and you 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 be reborn from the ashes
phoenix,
though the trees will topple onto your highways
and the stars might seem light years away
you’ll get there someday
and when you do
i will withhold you in the ecstatic standards of creation
you 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 abandon the reprises
you 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 sing in the opera
you 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 adopt a new method
and divest the old
screeching with indignation
your shaky hand will greet another and
you 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 fall in love
either with the affairs of your unkept emotions
or with a kind individual who promises you stability

be freed from your chains
and set off into the horizon
the you that you are
rose from the ashes
you are the you that you always were

my tears could be your tears
f
a
l
l
i
n
g
          ever so s
                          l
                            i
                             g
                               h
                                 t
                                   l
                                    y

                        ­                      different but not
                                              quite noticeable

my tears could be
a part
of the rain
d r i z z l i n g
onto your

                                f
                       a             e
                                c
                  
                                                  my struggles
                                                  could­ transfer
                                                  to yours
          
                      through the w
                                            a
                 ­                           t
                               c y c l  e
                                            r
          
   ­       we aren’t so different
          after a
                       l
                         l

my stomach muscles retract
bruises on the beginnings of my ribs
i can’t fight the deafening freight train engine
blowing my hair wildly
as i try to cross the tracks
barbed wire enclosing me in
the factories around me crashing and burning
i think i saw the devil in the train’s headlights.
i can’t make up for lost times
caught in the convenient current
washing my body like an entity that doesn’t deserve to be cleansed
the train horn is ear-piercing
like off-key violins in a symphony
the blood pumping quickly
my redundant diction
i ask for permission
from conductors and fakers and liars and schemers
and apparently they’re all good people.
i deserve to be lost in the wide expanse
of a generation
i can’t accept.
shattered promises and limbs
sprawled out on the train yards
as the stopping vehicles sound off their alarms
i am alarmed
but i am stapled to the tracks
by a woman who told me that it’s not that hard to overcome your fears
how do you feel now
with me bleeding out of my eye sockets
all over your precious property?

and now i’m
chasing lovers that other people want,
crying over my hideousness,
drowning my skin in
liquid thinner than blood,
testing my limits of pushing too far.
you see,
i saw him once across the room
and his eyes burnt holes through mine.
i know such a thing cannot be done
and cannot be mine.
i spoke to him as long as i could
when you were not looking,
i’m so selfish,
i think he steals glances my way,
but his heart is without a doubt empty
and unlike a haven,
but i cannot stop smiling when he laughs at me
and it’s a sickness that plagues me.
his shadow i try to chase
will vanish when i touch it,
and i want to love you longer
and stronger;
no lover could do such a thing as you.

i went to the trampoline park yesterday
and let me tell you- i have never felt more free
bounding and jumping into the air
i felt my soul condense and release
and turn into flames and dragons and mythical creatures
i felt the pressure leave me
it escaped from my gaping mouth
i stopped caring for a few hours
and it felt as if time was going super slow
it’s funny how today
the next day
i feel sore
as if it hurts me to be free
as if it is detrimental for me to get ideas about escaping
like i should be trapped in this crammed atmosphere
sore and beaten, nothing more than a menace
i can’t be free
i can’t be free
i will never be free

and what did i become in a moment—
not an entity i ever wanted to be.
and don’t you understand
i just don’t
have it in myself anymore
to mean nothing
to those that mean everything to me.
i became someone i hate
i wait outside, on your porch,
trying to trap light through my fingers.
i wish no one had to love,
had to tiptoe around themselves,
had to transform into what they never wanted.
i wish i never desired
to be meaningful to others.
the world would be much easier.
i don’t feel understood,
i just feel empty—
like everyone else is living but
i cannot
fit the oxygen mask
around my mouth in time.
in a cruel world,
i made myself the cruelest
and how do i reconcile with that?

what else can i give,
offer up until there is just a
shadow left?
i don’t know who to be anymore
and i just need to be guided,
hand in hand.
i’m young and the world
has left me lost
and i am nothing of
what i’ve always
wanted to be.
i am nothing;
i lose that feeling until it is
back on my porch,
trying to trap light through its fingers
and i always let it in.

it was panic, it was silence, it was machine gunfire ringing in the insides of my ears.
it was sheer destruction, it was pain, it was so much blood spilled in so many years.
the sky turned black, heavy droplets landed on top of my skull,
begging to wash away the manipulation, but they never could.
it was hurt, it was unapologetic, it was of malicious intent.
it was brutal, it was barbaric, it was all stored in the back of my head.
the fire burned ravenously, chewing bones, teeth, and leftover fragments of me,
charring parts of my flesh that bandages can’t cover up.
i tried to make it stop with my own two busted hands, but repairing doesn’t come overnight like closure.  
it lingers like a wildfire in the winds thousands of miles north,
and most of the time, the repair was in vain or couldn’t be held in a forest fire’s limp hand.
ashes settle, but you still smell the smoke.
it was twisted, it was calamitous, it took a piece of my remaining soul.
it was blinding, it was irrevocable, it was constantly taking a toll
even after the ‘sorry’s’ and ‘can i make it up to you’s?’
i still grew maggots all over my skin where they placed their bitter fingertips,
where they designed the monster embedded in me.
i breathe fire, i inhale smoke, i exhale ashes from my bleeding throat.
it was mistakes, it was casualties, it was shattered narratives and sovereignty.
it was vicious, it was surreptitious, it was trauma and warped realities.
suffering came like waves from the most caliginous seas.
i tried buying myself safety, eternity, and apologies,
but nothing ever seemed to work in my favor.
i have been trying for so long, for so many years, for so many lifetimes, for so many ages.
i hope it’s soon time for me to be laid to rest,
with no panic attacks, no strangers, and no reason to hurt anyone.
i was once the enemy of the world, but i don’t wanna be him anymore.

He’s confusing
         I sure am stumped
                As if a puzzle came to life.
  Unlike a book
          I can’t read him
                 Maybe I don’t speak his language
   Yet I still try
          Which proves that I care
                  And I’m not scared
    Because people aren’t open books
           You have to discover them on your own
                     I love that one person could be
    Rocks to me
             And gold to you
                    Even a crescent moon
     And what I see in him is a tree
               With moss, with roots, with leaves
                     Don’t cut it down
     Because someone out there might want
          To plant a thousand more seeds
   From your sprout
                     And grow a society of trees.

the ocean is still.
the birds fly gracefully over the fjord.
the snowflakes glisten during their time of the year.
the delicate warbler chirps, singing to himself.
the cows run home for milking.
the flowers whisper in the meadows.
the wind becomes a choir.
the sun waves to the whole of nature.

           and i stand here alone
i am only me inside of these harbors
inside of these ecosystems
i don’t dance
i don’t sing
i tried to be anything
but me.

i tried to be still
but i lost my patience.
i tried to fly gracefully
i fell down at my feet.
i tried to glisten like the snowflakes
i was still a mute color.
i tried to sing to myself and the trees
but i sounded like i was dying.
i tried to run home some day
but my enemies chased me away.
i tried to whisper in the meadows
i sounded like i was yelling.
i tried to become a choir with the wind
but i failed miserably.
lastly, i tried to wave to nature
they just turned their backs to me.

so i stopped trying altogether
i even stopped wishing
until i realized
i didn’t have to be the calm of the storm
i could be the eye
i didn’t have to be the breeze
i could soar on my own wings.
i could make a poem
about how the leaves twinkle like stars with the morning dew inside of them
about how the moon dreams of me
and how i dance for the rain
about how everything belongs in nature
and how i can fit in too.

i drove past your street two times this week
but you’re in a different state
and i’ll never step out of the car.
i want you now as you are,
i feel you believe in me in a selfless way.

two times this week
and i already want to give in,
but what if you have a lover and
she’s soft and patient and so much less afraid than i am?
i’ll make your nights an inescapable daydream,
i’ll never make you worry.

why am i just figuring this out,
that you’re all i needed?
i went to a million parties that i wished i could’ve found you in
but you were in a different state.
i keep thinking i’ll see your face
where you are not
and isn’t that a sign?

if i admit this, will you cower?
will you have not felt every single moment as i did?
i don’t want to misinterpret this.
instead i’ll drive by your street two times
and remember how it felt to be loved,
not wasted.

that hour is black
it is the hour to singe clothes, arsonists
the hour to burn houses and towns

that hour for children
to bolt from their swing sets for cover
the hour to board up windows

girls with guns
pistols in sweaty palms
deliberately weaponizing silence

that hour is red
a baleful war fought with ****** fists
sanguine faces flushed

that hour for isolation to prevail
to spread and slither into the crevices
the hour to bathe in ***** waters

cleanliness is seen as abrasiveness  
shadows of girls with guns
vile offspring with foul mouths

that hour is emerald green
months fly past like moths
roots sprout with intensity

that hour for desperation
the hour for skeletons to roam
piles of revengeful bones

the flies are swarming
on corpses

the hour is black in shadows
red in ****** waters
emerald green in dying beginnings

i want to love you

i want to hold you during autumn by the fireplace

i want to cuddle you in the pitch black and know that i am safe

i see plenty
thousands
of people my exact age
with people they love
or they wanna spend
more time with
i ache
i want you so bad
but
who the heck
will you be?

i want to be so engulfed in you that i can’t speak to you
dream of you
or lay awake with you
cause my heart will burn
and cause the cream bedsheets
to become the same exact color
as the fire my heart contains

i want to be able to kiss you
in the midday rain
pieces of you fit in me
glued together

i want to be so far gone
that if you break my heart
i will throw a fit and tantrum
resorting back to who i was
at five or six years old

i want to talk to you for hours
upon hours
forgetting that time means
anything more than numbers
becoming so invested
that the words i write
can only ever be your name

i want to walk with you
in the gloom of the
three a.m
drunk hour
wasted on each
other’s smiles
giggling and chasing
after one another
like in a chic flic
dreaming in
radiant
and gorgeous colors
all over
our clueless yet
satisfied expressions

and all i really want is
to be able
to lay by
you
and not worry
about not making
a peep
be whole
be full
be you
around me
i didn’t sign up
for another
you are the only
you are you
and i am in love
with the ashes
and madness
and nightmares
and insignificance
and flashes
and outlandishness
and you
mr. beyond sadness
lay with me
in the hush
of the nighttime
your flesh
and mine
and only
two hands
holding the flow
together
you and i
once i have
no worry
or anxiety
that’s when
i know
you will
love me
unconditionally

the red light distorts the cigarette smoke coming out of your nose. in the haze, i’m caught up writing prose with a bottle of coke in my left hand. trying not to choke on the heavy smoke ruminating throughout the suffocating room. your eyes the same shade of blood red as the lights. i’m boarding windows claiming i need no fresh air in my paper mâché lungs. pollute me more.

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