what is there for me to do but create

what do I have but the words in my mind and the color in my limbs

a pressure builds behind my eyes and down my throat

screams and cries of lyrics and rhythm pollute the air
pastels and stomach acid splatter onto a canvas

I cry and cry because what is there for me to do but create

I see so often
others happy alongside their love
saying love saved them

I hear so often
others asking me who I'm into
if I have a crush or want a lover

I used to be okay alone
I needed to love myself before I could love another
I wasnt searching for happiness in love

But these days I feel

                      l o n e l y

I dont need someone else to love me
I don't want someone else to hold me
I'm fine by myself

What I want is to love someone else
These days i find myself not caring about anyone
I want to feel affection towards the world around me

I want my heart to jump out of my chest and latch onto the next person I see

I want

I want

Maybe I want to drown in petals

Just like back in 9th grade
The last time I remember loving someone else
To no prevail I fell in love

I beat myself
Burned myself and scratched myself
Ripped myself apart for her

And I want it back

To suffocate helplessly in the delicate blooms of unrequited affection
To fall asleep covered in a sick mixture of ****** tears
To destroy myself for the sake of someone else

Oh to be in love

I used to call myself a poet

When I would sit down and type away
Following a meter and setting the rhyme
Throwing up my emotions onto a screen

I also used to call myself a writer

Back when I used to write and edit and publish for hours
Putting plots together and creating characters
Sharing my skills for others to enjoy

I once called myself an artist

I would sketch in notebooks and paint in pages
Mixing colors and blending into sunsets
Putting my thoughts into pictures

I used to call myself a musician

In a time I would create melodies and bend the air
Plucking stings along with the beat and bowing to the harmony
Singing with my heart in mind

I used to call myself many things

But these days I don't find myself calling me anything
Unlike before sonnets no longer bloom in my head
Stories don't flow from my fingertips
My emotions don't ball up and fall onto paper like they used to
I no longer bend the air to create sound

Now I call myself nothing

Creating nothing, saying nothing, doing nothing
I am nothing

how sweet it sounds
to find our own little paradise
with just us
living in ecstasy

cloud nine

I wish I could find
my way to you
I can't give up
no matter the cost

cloud nine

can we find our district
with only us
or will you
leave me again

cloud nine

I've said it once
I'll say it again
I'm doing good
but I could be better

cloud nine

how sweet it would be
if we could be together
our own placebo
our own side effects

cloud nine

you were my oasis in a desert
you were the light that cast shadows
you were the small thing that mattered

I always knew I would lose you
I knew the day would come
but I never knew that it would be so soon

I know you'll be back
you said it yourself
but still I miss you

and still I mourn
for who I haven't yet lost

little paper cranes
hang in my mind
if you look close enough
you might even find

a new one appears
every single day
and for some reason
I don't know what to say

maybe just maybe
those little paper cranes
will fold into
little paper planes

to fly over the sea
and across country farms
to find their way
into your arms

because little paper cranes
hang in my mind
for you to one day search for
and for you to one day find

walking upon a star
I feel it's warmth
I see it's light
but then I realize
I'm stuck
and when my legs finally work
the star has burnt out