I don't know how to write happy poems
because I don't really believe in them.
I thought angst would die with adolescence,
but alas I can still feel its cold dint.

Perhaps like virginity this goes too;
no longer a creep standing idly by.
Plastic smiles taped to our cardboard faces
and yours alone I felt the need to prise.

That's okay, because the teenaged rosebud
that we claim to be so very unique
is beginning to wither, can't you see?
And now it's the thorns society seeks.

So look out over yonder cityscape.
Your mask shall be shed only by the moon.
Until then, a cartographer of love;
yours that is, we'll still pathetically swoon.

i've have been deprived of my need for love
and out of room to store the pain
out of people to make me sane
so here i lie
in a shower
of tears
out in the rain
watching whatever was left of me
seep through a sewer drain

This is not a goodnight,
this is a goodbye.
I can’t promise you that you’ll see me again.
Just please know that I love you with all my heart
and I don’t mean to tear you apart.
Please don’t grieve,
instead believe
that I’m exactly where I want to be.
One.
Two.
Three.

you eat while i'm deprived
i'm numb while you thrive

i'm dead while your alive