Seconds turn to minutes,
minutes turn to hours,
hours turn to days,
days turn to weeks,
weeks turn to weakness
and I give in.

© Matthew Harlovic

They tell me to feel better
But never tell me how.
They tell me just wait till your older
But I want to live life now.
They tell me kids can't love
And I am sure its true
But if this feeling is not love
Then what do I feel for you?
They tell me that I'm silly
But I see no humor in my pain
They tell me everyones unique
But they treat us like we're plain.
I'm sick of being different
Sometimes I wished I fit in
But that what they want me to think
So Creativity for the Win.

Screaming our lungs out
In the middle of the night
To bands we can't remember.
Dancing wildly
Spinning and shouting the lyrics
Because we can.

Im on your shoulders
Attempting to see the stage
And your watching me
Like I'm the silliest thing.
The stars are pretty,
And your eyes are prettier
As we lay on the cold grass
At the end of the concert.

Shouting
Raising our posters high
And fighting the crowds
As we fight for our rights.
Protesting,
And attempting not to
Get thrown in jail.

Throwing punches
And kissing passionately
Fighting
And soft embraces.
You are the Worst
The Best
Most Mind Numbing
Infuriating
The most Exciting
The most IMPORTANT
Person I've ever met,
Hands down.

Im your Forest Fire
And your my Chaotic Love

" What is poetry if it does not RHYME?"
Well, I'll tell you sir,
Poetry is a door.
" A door? Ridiculous. "
I'm telling you the truth sir,
Poetry is a door to the soul.
" I think your confused, girl. Poetry is something for children to read."
No sir,
Poetry is a way to express
How the poet feels
And thinks.
Poetry is a door.
" The eyes are a door to the soul, not some silly writing on wasted paper."
Now you're confused sir,
What do eyes show you but surface emotion?
"..."
You see sir,
I have you stumped.
Next time actually read the poetry.