I have nothing to write
I am Empty inside.
Unsure if I have been robbed by medication or maturation
or perhaps emotional numbness has caused this.

I do not see the seasons change or the flowers bloom and die.
I see dead leaves, polluted skies.
oppressed peoples, blind eyes.

My empathy has been sapped from me by many years of life.
I am reminded constantly that I’m powerless
to aid them in their strife
women, men and children suffering through life
but someone is helping them, probably, and that’s nice.

then life goes on
again and
tomorrow I am told
suffering exists, numbness is bliss. please return to your clockwork life

Yours’s sincerely Head manager Mrs...

I give myself,
I give it all.
You never notice,
No one ever does.
It’s like the more I give,
The more you’ll take.
The more I love,
The more you hate.

I may
be soft
but at least
I’m not
afraid
of my own
skin.

i promise
that one day
you will wake up
and forget
their absence

If
I gave each star a
spoonful of poetry
they could sparkle
word blossoms
down toward the earth

and when the flower-works
break through
the atmosphere
they would shatter
into nourishing
word petals
that would sizzle
into the hearts
of everyone they fell upon

then
when all the people on earth
have been poem-pierced
nothing but
truth
would leave their lips

Ahhhh