As if you were a magic fairy,
Landing on my shoulder.
Whispering into my ear,
"You to me are none."
You return again.

We were never wife and man,
It may be better off that way.
So why are you talking to me,
Like I'm a busted up divorcee?

"I don't want us sh*t talking each other,
Now that I'm. dating,"
Not you.
"Just because he's a good guy,"
Better than you could be,
Doesn't mean you can be salty at me.

If it's so much to you,
Why are you here,
Reaction reaping me?

I'm bold, bold, bold.

I thought I could melt your heart,
and warm the iceberg in your chest.
Honestly, I'd thought I'd be your best,
but I was not made for that test.

You're distant, distant, distant.

I'm here, here, here.

You think of the future,
and I see the current world.
Honestly, I wish you'd look around,
but you won't turn your head to me now.

You're oblivious, oblivious, oblivious.

I'm aware, aware, aware.

Of they fact that you'll never stare,
but I still hope you will.
The warmth in my heart,
will go cold before my love disappears.

It's always August 31st,
In the last week of August,
It's always August,
That makes beautiful things.

It's always the first fading trees,
In the forests around this house,
It's always the thought of coming fall,
That makes us forget winter's creeping jaws.

It's always the first winds of fall's fading,
In the empty chapels and lonesome evergreens,
It's always the feeling of ignorant cold,
That makes people run to what's not meant to be.

It's always spring's first flirting's,
In the midst of things you thought you wanted,
It's always those who love you,
That show you how better things will be.

Rocking in the empty space,
Between loneliness and overwhelming love,
Is where you'll find me now.
Looking up in the night skies,
Thinking about the stories I was told,
And told.
Life is what you make it,
So I'd like to make it this.
Running after storms,
Holding fast to the ground.
Coming home with dirt stained shoes,
Hoping someday I'll come home to you.

Somebody said the sun would come up,
It stuck with me,
When I was stuck up.

I wanted to be somebody people could love,
But I was too boisterous to contain,
Too wild to settle.

When I asked for help I was told,
First you need to help,
If you're going to help yourself.

Karma kills to knock you down,
Unless you lean that life is more than your success,
Life is the blooming flowers of our people,

The pulse of our community.

what makes me so different?
what sets me apart from the others,
not getting looked at like that
not getting adored like that
not getting touched like that
not getting talked to like that
not getting loved like that?
what makes me so undeserving?
i know im not that pretty
i know im not the most talented
i know im not the most athletic
i dont know why that makes me so different.
everyone around me has been loved
i haven’t.
what makes me so different?

staring at a screen
it says ‘bad gateway’
what does it mean?

I don't know
but I've seen this before
that's why I'm in
survival mode
it's gonna be okay
I'll just take the next road
left

writing poems...
in my head