A maniacal machine of glad and fad
A thing of mystery
A man that smiles the brightest of us all
No matter the weather, even in the fall
The darker stories that he never tells
Ring the most often of all the bells
These chimes are the very loudest
and his least proudest
They are the things that lead him to the bars
And honestly he hides these scars
His laughter is among the most of any
Because he was told not to frown by the most of many
He is not mad
Only empty and sad
All alone he is
Sharp edges are his only friends
Deprived of self expression
He's been in a depression
And this is why he is a maniacal machine of glad and fad
No longer a thing of mystery
At least here he's not the smiling man

My poem is called how to be forced into a talent show.
It's very easy to be forced into a talent show when you're me.
No, I am not saying, "Ooooo" look at me I am Michael Ryan and I am the most talented person in the world.
I'm more saying, "oooo" look at me, I'm such a nice person that I will do your talent show, even though I don't want to.
Yes, that is what I am really trying to say, but not in a conceited kind of way, because that's not me.
I was forced into this talent show from the very beginning.
The very beginning, the very first sign up day.
and I thought "hmm I don't have any talent", and she was like oh yes you do, well of course I believe her.
And from that moment I've felt slightly uneasy, because to be honest she can't be there every day to tell me "hey you have talent."
And to be honest all I'm doing is a SPOKEN WORD poem, which is pretty much just me talking.
What a talent that must be...but not really.
Then my friend tried to jump on board with me to do a duet of a poem, so I was forced even more in to this situation.
But luckily that person changed their mind and so I was just stuck with my original oh you have talents person stringing me along into this over thought situation.
Just to let you know I did eventually try to tell them hey I think I'm not gonna do(but then they cut me off), and told me once again you got talents, and please please please do my talent show.
So of course I can't say no, that's not what a nice guy would do, which I am.
And this is what came to me, how about I just write about how one is forced to be doing this in front of a group of people, even though you already said no soooo many times.
And to be honest this is terrifying, because I just came up with this, 30mins ago.
Even though I sat for many hours thinking what to write, it just never felt well right.
And ugh seriously this is so stressful, that I really do wonder why I am even up here.
I could be sleeping right now, but instead I've been convinced to do this.
And there's no guarantee anyone or myself will even like this.
But sleep, ****, I know I would like to fall into that right now.
Just dreaming, peacefully, to be sleeping and not on a stage, being gawked at by some strangers.

I am thankful.
At the same time I am not.
It's hard to be thankful.
When your wishes are never met.
That if you were to be honest.
Well speaking honestly.
No one would ever grant my wish to make me thankful.
Logical or rational.
How you would explain my mind.
If you were to meet me.
You would hear the titter tatter of a robot's mind.
Seemingly skimming through numbers.
To phrase through the facts.
But if I were that logical.
Does that mean suicide, I do the same?
That if I spoke my mind about this, would you not agree?
Convincing those the idea of equality.
While at the same time planning times of when I won't be.
You call me too young to know so much,
but age doesn't equate the pain.
And with pain, we learn so much.
That while I am young and some are old.
I know the concepts of what we can gain,
and what I am willing to lose.
I want to be thankful for other things,
but I am thankful only for one.
Either show me something that I do not know,
or grant me my final wish.
I am thankful.

The love of your touch.
I imagined your hands.
As if they were a part of me.
That they would slowly sink into my flesh.
The warmth.
The essence.
The sense of existence.
So soft.
Pure.
They take hold of me.
No longer sensing two beings, but the semblance of one.
I feel at balance.
That somewhere I was missing a part of my body.
That I had long last lost.
When we are no longer touching.
I feel as if I have just been through surgery.
That some piece of me has been cut out.
That strongly I have the urge to be touched by you; again.
My insides scream for me to find, you.
My lungs tell me that there is no oxygen.
That I must find, you to breathe.
My liver tells me that there is too much alcohol in my blood.
I must find, you to filter out the pain.
My stomach twists as it screams for food.
I must find, you to motivate me to eat.
My whole body is tearing itself apart.
For just one more touch.
But I know better than to go back.
I cry and miss those hands.
My brain whispers to never let them touch again.
Never let them abuse.
Don't let those hands crush anymore.
They controlled.
Your lungs do not gasp for air out of love.
But because those hands were rapped around your throat.
Those hands brought all the alcohol into your veins;
So you could not resist.
Only yourself can filter out the pain.
Your stomach does not twist for them
Not out of hunger, but the sickness that the medicine brings.
These flowers next to the bed calling me dear.
Will not bring me back to those hands.

What's up?
Nothing much just a visualized image of a homicide.
Sometimes the mind wonders around thinking of someones death.
Imagining grey matter splatter across 4 walls, out of the 4 walls of your bedroom.
Your pet cat is fine and seems unmoved as it sits grooming.
Sometimes this event occurs because hopefully you've fallen onto hard times with ****.
Other times it's just the usual thing, wrong place wrong time.
It's kind of a game of cat and mouse; the only thing Jerry is that my dreams don't come out as a cartoon.
Sometimes the process of muscle and bone twinges leave a sweet rhythmatic tune.
But the one I like the best is when you pay for your own suicide, it's only worth a dime.
The insides pool and leave such provocative tinges.
Your new found beauty is the only thing that can make me cringe.

Merry Christmas. Today your present is this smile I hold true
This is the best I can do for you
Behind this I hold the very honest truth that I must carry
I will bury the burden of what the truth carries; inside myself
Maybe this is the day you celebrate
To me this is the day I carry the heaviest weights
Amongst the worlds that I carry, today, gravity kicks in
My body screams and aches more than hopefully you will ever know
The seams of my scars begin to rip to wider tides
I press and hold them close
Letting the sea reap it's stains inside these veins
Gushingly I take on the mighty sea for all my own
As restlessly stirring within my being
Shuttling off the shakes as my mind wonders to the heaviest place
The pain of this holiday is the true horror that no one could believe
Behind each gift is another anchor to tie my mind down
Behind each "Merry Christmas" is another 2 tons to my darkest depth
The weight that you can never come to know
The nightmare called Christmas that can never be spoken
I bare burden to the past
As each year builds its own cask
I no longer know the joyfulness of this holiday
This does not mean I will take away this day
Never will I load this onto whom I know
Today is your day
Today is your holiday
Today is Merry Christmas

Twist and twist
That's what they all do
Twist and twist
**** those insides of mine
Why can't they learn that I don't like to tango
"Eye Spy with my little eye"
The reason why my insides learn to dance
Feats of contortion on display
Each pair of salsa dancers going for the gold
These duos never know when to quit
They want those mighty 10s but...
**** this brain of mine
This little dancer is satisfied with last place
He once was prized to finish out top tier
**** this brain, stop shaking feathers
Get the foxtrot down and finish this waltz
otherwise let the inside rest they having feelings too

Liar liar
I have a special telephone wire
there is not fire for you
just the inexpiable pain
because my eyes will not burn through you
nor will my words curse your name
there is not more fish in the sea
because we are on land not in the sea
neither will they say to let them go
because you are not a bird to let go
not unwanted or unloved
all was lost in the end
because my friend
the sun is gone
and the night is on
no one will know that you are gone
because I am you and you are me
and none are here to see.
what they really need.

Did it ever really happen?
Tonight I wonder if all these people were ever real.
Same as they should imagine if I, Michael, ever existed.
Somewhere I imagine some land where all these people exist.
This place hold sanctuary only in my head.
Ma, pa, Grandma, brother.
Do you exist, you are no longer here, It's hard to believe you ever lived.
Those Sunday mornings, did we ever go to church?
Did we ever go to the diner for our Sunday Brunch?
I thought I saw our neighbors do the same, but I never go anymore.
I just woke up from a dream.
From the sanctuary in my head.
And I look around my house.
But it shows no signs that you ever lived.
I clutch at the memories in my head.
And ask myself are these dreams.
Did I fantasized this life of mine.
It's hard to believe that it was a lie all this time.
But when I call out for you.
I only hear the echo of my own.
I'll never known the difference between our tone.
Do I dream.
or have I lived.

Happy birthday little guy
You are now 4 years old.
Welcome to the age of comprehension.
Your mind will now belong to the development,
and warped world around you.
Telling you what is right and what's wrong.
Be a good boy, okay?
Everyone is here to see you blow out your candles buddy,
and they all brought gifts to celebrate your life.
"Nod, Yes daddy, thank you soooo much"
Now blow out your candles!
Welcome
The phone rings
You are now 21 years old
Hey, I just wanted to tell you that I miss you
and that I love you buddy, have a good birthday.
A big birthday this one, don't go crazy, haha.  It would of been nice if you were able to have come home today, but you must be too busy with college today.
Well I love you; you'll always be my little guy.
Bye-Bye
*I miss you so much buddy, why did you have to take your own life last year

Maybe we should take a little bit better
Of ourselves.
Of each other.
Of our Friends.
The people that make up our lives.
The people whom we are in the life of.
Maybe we should ask
The questions that need to be said.
The difficult task that must be done.
Or  simply.
Ask the hardest questions.
How are you? Not today but every moment! Are you happy?
How are you feeling, will you get out of bed today.
Want to go out with me?
Maybe we should tell them
What we really think.
I love you/I like you/I can not get enough of you.
Your eyes, your beauty, Makes my insides melt.
Your hugs I don't want to let go.
Maybe we should share
Our own life stories.
Our own defeats.
Our warmth.
Maybe we should relax for
One more second.
One more breath.
One more word.
One more glance.
Maybe.
We should.
Just.
Care a little bit more...

Always being taught something old
Gender identified right when I was born
Out of the womb they told me I was a boy
Just because of simple thoughts
I was told that dolls and the color pink was not for me
Just the same as a girl was told that they were hers
That we would grow up together, but treated as if they were separate
Telling us that we were created equal
Yet treating us different the whole time
How can they tell us that we are same
While also telling us the opposite of things
That because I am a boy I have to be the less delicate
That she has no masculinity and must find it in a boy just like me
That to be beautiful I must be of a strong shapely size with sharp edges
(Sorry I am a boy and beauty is only retained for her)
While she has to be the opposite of me
Instead of being large she must be small and cut with soft curves
So we can be identified even more as boy and girl
The more that we grow the more they define us
Further the gaps grow between girl and boy
Constantly taught that a boy needs to take care of a girl
A girl is too weak and must be taken care of by a boy
Engrained into us some form of superiority
Engrained into her some form of inferiority
That girls are weak and boys have to be strong
A boy that he was born perfect and needs nothing to improve
While the girl needs layers upon layers to be that good
Telling me that boys are good at sport, science, math, but not art
Telling her that she can perform art, but won't be good at anything else
That I must provide everything for us
When all she needs to do is look some way
How can you say that you created us equal
When you motivated me in many ways and told me I was perfect
That when I looked her way you handed her things to improve herself
You wholly embraced me, a boy, from birth and even now
Telling me that I have to be the strongest and the most honest
Yet every time I looked her way
You were telling her that she is weak and be false with me
(Just so we could get along)
I tell you now; you didn't create us equal
Your system is one of cruelty
One that separates and divides
Dividing people from people
So we can't realize that we are all the same
A boy is a boy because you told him how to be
A girl is a girl because you told her how to be
You didn't teach us. You destroyed us
Leaving us at separate ends
So most people do not know
That honestly
We Are Created Equal

Strange danger, awaits around not the corner, but within ourselves.
The danger is present in every crevasse of our being.
No we do not possess the danger to wreak havoc upon ourselves.
It is as dangerous as a thunder storm in July.
When fireworks should be booming, spelling out words, and making us dream, just like Walt Disney.
There should be pies and pies and only pies, because why not have only pies.
They should be of all kinds blue, red, purple, orange the taste of a rainbow should rest in our tummies.
Everyone that passes by won't wonder how did they get so many pies, they will wonder, can I have some?
And I will tell them, why are you asking, the pies are begging to be eaten, can't you see?
Because in July when there should be Thunder storms, not this day, I offer you pie.
There will be no mistreating, no mistaking, no one will pronounce your name as cobbler in this day.
And when all the mighty and delicious pies that were never mistaken for cobbler, are gone.
All will know this was some very special day in July.  Where the thunder storms stopped.
Where someone just as special as those pies, but probably not as delicious.
Came to give us all what we were craving, and represented it with pie.
To those that weren't there, they will always think, pie pie pie I wonder what was so unique about this pie.

Know what you are saying
lies spur the embers to life
the flames of deceit ignite
as black ash fills the lungs
and decides to take a life
despair reins supreme over your mind
and no the thoughts wont be kind
your insides will be slain
and the outside will know no pain
your body will be made of glass
since you showed no class
smoke fills the crevasses in the heart
and finally it decides to not start

I was told that knowledge was power.
I was told that I should become as smart as I can be.
I need to learn.
I need to remember.
I need to come to terms with the past.
So I can unfold the future.
I did as I was told,
and I keep on doing so.
But these people.
They never told me how lonely it would feel.
They never told me that they wouldn't do the same.
I was never told that everyone else would settle.
That they would find out before me that they should stop.
That it's impossible to learn it all, so what's the point.
If we can only learn so little.
What's the point of learning things beyond our daily use.
What's the point of being able to reason out the functions of time.
What is the point of being able to reason the thoughts of another.
What's the point if I can't use it to help myself,
and this is why it is so lonely.
The one thought that made people stopped.
They never learned the answer to it,
and makes those who keep going the loneliest bunch.
Because to be honest everyone else settles.
Can't you see that's the world.
No matter who they are, they are people that settle.
People everywhere settling for the bad.
Because it's easier to say that you tried and then die in the fire.
Because no one is there to question you about why you stopped.
There is no one to wonder why you do not stop those from evil.
Why have you stopped thinking.
Why have you stopped learning.
Why aren't you out there doing what you need to do,
and they will tell you all the things of what they live for
Or what they live with.
You will see the people that settle.
These people are your friends.
They are even your family.
IT IS EASIER TO STAND STILL.
IT IS EASIER TO ADMIT DEFEAT
It is easier to blame everyone else, but yourself.
As long as you see yourself clear of blame.
Then those people will always be able to settle.

I keep on running, but you have never seen me run
It's so easy to tell you that I can run
It's so easy to be able to share that I have scars
That my past is not a simple one
That if I were to show you my life
You would see the simplicity that I have lived
While amongst my time alone you would just see a sitting boy
But instead the boy was running, I was running
I've always been running
Although to you it seems to be a happy existence
One of ease and always being pleased
I've never struggled to get what I want
Constantly everything has been handed to me
With that I do everything with a half grin on my face
And a chuckle behind every word
To you, you see a boy that has it all so well
He talks too much
He walks to meet so many different people
That if he were to tell you about his day he would tell you about all the people
He would tell you about their smiles
But just like them
He wouldn't tell you everything he heard behind what they said
Because just like him they are running
Maybe they are not running as fast, but they are running nonetheless
I can tell because it feels like they are screaming it right at me
And it seems like no one can notice
As I am screaming the same thing right back at them
Because when I tell them that no one stays in my life that long
They don't realize or notice what I actually mean
That I am running
I am running
I am running
I am running
So much faster than anyone else possibly could

Yesterday was the day you were born,
some 30 years ago, right?
And today was the day we celebrated!
I am tightly wound into my own life;
that I even had to mention it in YOUR poem.
That aside I'm sorry to say I didn't know yesterday was your day.
Maybe this would of made it your way one day earlier,
or maybe I would of shrugged it off like my older self.
But to be honest that's not what I want to do.
I want to let you know that I know that you deserved to be noticed.
That the day and you did not go by like the wind.
That when the words floated by my ear that yesterday was your day.
I decided I must do something!
And I'm sorry to say, but like a homeless man all I have is a little sign and some words to display.
I'll creatively explain and show that you are an important part in the world, my world.
Doing this will hopefully let you know the significance of yourself to me.
I may be the person you have always fought with.
I may be the person you have screamed the most at.
I may be the person you are the most upset with.
You may be the person that I feel awkward around.
You may be the person I don't know what to say to.
You may be the person that I under-appreciate.
but mom I love you.