In India, they have elephants in the same way we have cattle (they consider cows holy, and therefore don't keep them in captivity). When a baby elephant is brought to the farm, it is tied to a pole with a very thick rope, and then left to tug and pull for its escape. When it grows older, it of course becomes stronger, and becomes increasingly capable of snapping the rope it's ******* with. The farmers, however, use an increasingly thin rope - the elephant gets so used to the limitation, that it learns to go in the direction of the tug, instead of against it. In the end, the farmers walk around with incredibly strong, heavy, dangerous elephants in nothing but strings of grass. The elephants are broken in, and no longer see the opportunities right in front of them. In the same way, human potential is almost limitless, yet we get used to limiting thoughts and mindsets - we have, deep down, the ability to do insane stuff.

Today I picked up a pencil in a pathetic attempt to banish all the bad thoughts.
I wrote about you.
How we haven't been talking.

I wrote about my dad.
About how I don't want to hate him

I wrote about how I stopped getting high with my friends.
And how I should be focusing on important things

I wrote about how I stayed the night at my best friends house.
And how I took too much ambien and how it made me cry all night.

I meant to get all these thoughts out But now I'm swimming in them.

It was a grand 'ol party
with people I'd never met
and they looked at me with awe
i was interesting
and different
and jesus christ, was i wasted.
lights were blurry,
like most of the memories
i have of that night
but i wont ever forget
how real it felt.

put me to your lips
i'll take your stress away
light me up and
it hurts
it hurts
it hurts
but near your lips is my favourite place to be
and even after you're calm and im all burned up
i know it'll be fine
because you'll need me again in a couple hours
i don't mind being your cigarette break

Do I look pretty? Cause I haven't been eating.
Let me back up, because I swear it wasn't intentional
it's just that it makes me angry
that I have to
and it makes me angry that you care
and it makes me angry that it makes me angry
because its all I ever wanted anyone to do.

I'm angry at school, and my friends, and my dad, sure.
but the worst of all is that I'm angry at myself

this one song plays in my head
but it's just one line repeating
again and
again
*I'll be hanging from a rope, and I will haunt you like a ghost

I haven't been sleeping well these last couple days
I'm busy drowning in "I'm sorry's" that I'm not responsible for.
You're busy drowning in the tears you cannot cry
Usually I could talk to my mom about it
But she's busy drowning in alcohol and text messages from her boyfriend
I usually wouldn't worry. But there's no lifeguard on duty.

It's hard for me to be your anchor
Especially when I'm this buoyant.

You're sleeping next to me
the time on your old digital clock
lights up the room in neon green
6:23 am

my head hurts from crying myself to sleep
but you already knew that

You're sleeping next to me
or trying to rather,
the sun fill the room as the clock
the clock just stares at me
8:47 am

I should have left before you'd notice.
I don't want to see you
I don't even want to talk about what you said

6 months ago I promised i'd stop writing about you,
here i am
or here we are

here i am
there is no we
there hasn't been
but somehow even in my dreams your words
your words haunted me
"... I just don't love you anymore."

Can I be your favorite color?
The color that shines through (y)our bedroom window at three in the morning reminding us that time is,indeed, still passing, the moon, the sun and the stars all conspiring to keep us awake as the walls and sheets whisper soft words into our hearts
Let me be your favorite color
The color of the sky outside at night when I can't pull you in close enough.
Paint with me- give my tone a false meaning and lets watch the other artists be baffled at the depth in the shading
Can I be your favorite color?
It's alright to have a dash of color in such a grey world. Let me be comfort in the dark and light up your night-let any shade of me alter your mood.
Let me be your favorite color.

I always said you felt like home
not like the home i grew up in of course

not like the one where after school i found my dad
half asleep
half sober
half alive
on the couch, hating himself

i always said your eyes looked like the stars
and it was a little cliche
but the stars made me feel safe
because of the night my dad hit my mom
for the first time
And i sat on the roof and cried to them

I always said you were like my bedroom
the one i would lock myself in when i was scared
maybe thats why i locked myself in you
I wish you didnt lose the key

and I can;t even write about it anymore

i tried to write in a way that you'd like
words that filled your head
i wanted no more than the rain to pour
as we lie naked in your bed

my rhyming scheme is cliche
alike most of my thoughts
"you know i love you" i managed to say
and you replied "you do not"

I'm sitting in my sophomore English class.
Taking notes on grammar
And learning what a metaphors does
Clutching my copy of 'Lord of the Flies."
And wishing the loud boy next to me hadn't spoiled the ending

I still find time for you in my thoughts, though.
you wouldn't have told me that two boys die and then they're saved.
you would have reminded me
That I'm already good at grammar
"hell you correct me all the time!"
And that my metaphors are nice.

You'd shake your head at me whilst chuckling.
About me sitting in the corner
With earphones jammed into my head
So that I don't have to participate.

Even though its the beginning of this year
It sure is blending into the last one

I know you don't love me
I'm not stupid.

I'm familiar
I'm comfort
I'm a rock

You're uncomfortable
You're lonley

We're nothing.

The cigarettes you smoke linger on your clothes.
You're with pretty people
So you don't have to be alone
You say you're not afraid of death but it still makes you cry
You wake up and drink black coffee
Read the paper a day late
There're messages on the machine
But you don't care what they say
The sun shines outside.
But you lock up your doors
Sit inside and question
If there's something more
Than what we have become.

Your things have been bagged, sitting in my closet for nearly
three weeks
theres still the pictures
the polaroids of you
of us
easter with your mom
most days im fine without you

it doesnt mean i dont worry for you though
for how everything is changing for you
i hope you're doing alright
cause im not gonna ask
we decided its better that way right?

.,

a language barrier isn't a problem,
if you let your body do the talking.
or if the boy you're talking with
doesn't care about the words you have to say

I took out my razor blades
And lined them up row
By row
By row
And I thought about how you said the freckles on my skin reminded you of the night time sky
You've heard how flies brains get rewired when they meet their mate?
How "sweet" it is that they can never love another.
Flies don't love. That's why that happens. It has to otherwise they would leave. There's no fake sense in staying and fulfilling an obligation. Lucky them.

14- i met you standing there outside of a class that we both had
15(a few months later) i could never picture me doing anything without you by my side
16- I told you i was moving far far away and though God knows we tried there is no logical way that it would have worked
16.5- we broke up
17- we talked 3 times that year
17-you told me you missed me
17-you told me you loved me
17-i came back
17- you don't love me anymore
17-we're not talking
17-we slept together
17-we love each other
18-we're too young
18-happy birthday darling
18-i love you

I've never understood girls who obsessed about their weight
until i developed bulimia
this isn't poetry
I never sympathized with drug addicts, because my father wasn't around
now im waiting on a new hit of Adderall
this isn't poetry
I used to fall in love with everything I saw and I gave meaning to things without it
I told you I love you knowing that the way i feel now is the closest i can feel to love.
I read somewhere that a poet can make anything beautiful
but you aren't a poet
you can't make me beautiful.

One day it'll all come back
all the things I've done
and said
the ways I've acted to the people I care about most
and I'll deserve whatever
i get

I want to scream "*******"
from the top of my lungs
of course, Darling, I don't mean it.
You're always my number one

It's just that these days,
I thought I was getting better,
it's just that this is crazy,
and I wish you'd never met her.

I wish I didn't leave you alone in that town
or that I could go back, knowing what I do now.

Lover can you hear me? I'm screaming your name,
though it's worn out across 50 or so states,
my throat is getting sore, and these smokes,
they don't help.

But they give me a sense
of the love that we felt.

some days it's not so bad
I can keep my brain on track
but I can't stand the distance
between us
and I'd be there tomorrow if
I could find a way
I'll pull the money from my piggy bank
if it meant I could stay

just as always there are two sides to this
the love that pulls me towards you
and leaving my friends
we're all growing up and I guess that's okay
but I didn't expect  
to love you this way

I don't think i have real feelings for you
but i felt actually happy when i was with you
and it could have just been where we were, or anything else,
but i want to kiss you again
i dont know if i have real feelings for you
but i want you to have real feelings for me

It's been too long, and for that I am sorry.
The words I had to say
lost importance to me and
truth be told I
didn't think you were even listening anymore.

The long walks we took felt cheated by our shortcuts.
getting lost deep in the woods
just to talk **** and smoke blunts
I want to remember the way my body ached
from passing out on your floor
when it got too late.

We went to the water park
and it was closed.
she muttered "what are we gonna do?"

"what about something crazy? c'mon, you guys dare me???"
So I ended up with a Twin Peaks tattoo
and I know I left without giving it much thought.
but no, I haven't forgot
I'd take you along if you wanted to

I looked at the west coast
and whispered goodbye
as the view of home left my sight
I don't know when I'll be back
-or if even at all
and I might forget to write; but I'll always call.

My number's still the same
but now the bill is in my name
and I swear I'm gonna pay it
someday

I deleted a social media
to try and discover who i actually am
without peoples perceived notions of me

an existential crisis stems
from a perceived loss of identity
through an account
where most people didn't know my name

In a dream I was buried between mountains
Let go of myself and your friends

I didn't say I was ready
I'm always reading ahead


Can I Quell my elitist tendencies
Not be ruled by dependency
A Perfect personality
Using plagiarized perceptions
We use our actions to gain attention

I write songs about you all the time
I bet I don't run through your mind
I've given up on you,
But it still hurts to know you're not alone*

312 days had come and gone
You asked if i heard your voice crack
when i knocked on the door
i did

so here we are
312 days later
sure it's a lot
but it's also not
the hole in my heart
feels more like a crater

Feeling so tired but i can't sleep
isnt that a ******* cliche?
suffocating feelings that would make me weep
but holding onto every word you say

Your hand print on my hipbone
a bite mark on your neck
tonight we wont feel alone
and we sure as hell wont forget

But for the nights your lover is a cigarette
and the kiss of death is one you love
it's not her you want, i'll take that bet
it's not her you're thinking of

Your lips are calloused
from smoking that entire pack of cigarettes

My liver is screaming
from all of that alcohol

My hair is grown now
almost to my shoulders in the back
if i pull on it

Maybe it was time for a change
*or maybe I'm just changing so the old me doesn't have to miss you

Wow what a beautiful
supernova you will say
as I explode into dust

I don't need to use a metaphor.
for the way our love erupted and took over a town
For the way there would never be enough water to quench our thirst
Or the way
your oxygen
gave me life.

I had to get drunk, and read sad poetry
just to cry over you.
We both know that
This is the way it has to be

I'm only sad when I see the moon
because I know
you're enjoying the sun

We sat in a triangle
The green **** camouflaged with the grass
Your laugh camouflaged with the blowing of the wind

You were both getting high
And talking about adventures we would go on
Maybe later in the summer

I was sober and I didn't mind.
I wanted to tell you that you guys meant a lot to me
But it wasn't the time

It got quiet and we all breathed in the silence as if it were oxygen
16 weeks from now,
This will be the moment that I think about
You.
Me.
Him.
The trees.
If a moment lives in your head
And the imagination of those who read about it,

Does it ever actually die?

maybe tomorrow
I'll wake up
and i just won't care

maybe tomorrow
*i just wont wake up

Suppose it is true: occasionally I'd rather be dead
you go on and on about Radiohead
in your car or at the Yuba River
How many nights I would exhaust my lungs or watch as you punished your liver?

Don't you say anything you don't mean?

I look at you with admiration
Words fall from my mouth-
My hair clings to my face-
Between all things I find correlation

Dearest girl,
there are things I must tell you
that have happened
they are happening
and they will happen

Dearest girl the world,
as so many have said,
is a terrible place
there are things like guns,
and violence
****
and it's justification

And all you can do is
breathe it out
and breathe it out
breathe

Dearest girl, the world,
as my mother once said,
Is a beautiful place
there's things like the sun
and it's guidance
capes
and flying to your safe haven

and all you have to do is
breathe it in
and breathe it in
breathe

Always called "Daddy's little girl."
Until daddy found a whole new world
One that was charmed and great

Daddy's little girl just wanted to come too
But it was better if she just stayed in her room
Cause daddy had some errands
He would be back in a bit
When he came back, he'd have some kind of present.

Daddy had some problems that she just couldn't see
He found help in pill bottles and assorted things
And daddy's little girl grew up big and strong
Now her and daddy just don't get along.
And even though she's pretty upset
Daddy's little girl doesn't know any different.

I'm going to break you
and when I do
you're gonna say I loved you better than anyone ever has

I'm going to make you wish
that we had met later
so that you had learned not to talk
to girls like me

you're going to grow up
and realize that the pretty girl with makeup on her face
and scars on her thighs
isnt worth falling for

Anger is ugly
i know this because of the way my father wore it
as the world wore down his patience
he yelled
his voice echoed through the house that my mother fought so hard to keep
working to support me
my baby sister
and his habit

his voice echos now through coridoors of my mind
in silence they follow
they hadn't been able to find me for quite some time
and yesterday they did

my father would break things
he would throw objects when they would not work
he would punch walls when my mother looked at him funny
or when he thought she did
he threw rocks through the windows
and there is still scattered glass on the floor of my heart

My father hit my mother
he grabbed her
he chased her and told her that she would never leave
she was with him
and he would find her
my mother never knew i watched all their fights from the roof of that old house
I don't think she ever will

i dont want to tell you the details, ive suppressed them well enough
but now you may understand
why i flinch when you reach for my hand

The pretty ******* the train smiles at me,
But she's uneasy.
She doesn't know about me
or anyone here

The old man with the small reading glasses
reading yesterday's paper
He is merely a background character.

He has his own life outside this moving box
  Just as I work forty hours a week,
and spend all my money on cigarettes

They won't know just by watching me nervously scribble on a napkin
On the 5:15 train
Heading east to god only knows where.

im not even trying and words are pouring out
on to a plank page

feelings i thought i forgot about

*but i never could forget the way you sigh in your sleep

Everything is happening
exactly as i figured it would

i always love to be right
to have that "upper hand"

but what i would give
for the simple pleasure

in admitting to being wrong

When i told you I wanted to go home, I meant I wanted you to feel like home again
When I began to pack my things
I grabbed my phone
the charger
which was awkwardly by your feet
and my pipe from the bookshelf we used as a nightstand when we finished our cheap beer the night before

then I remembered the old stuff.
the stuff you kept for me
the stuff you told me i forgot
the last time you said you loved me

it was the same week as my birthday
you called me
my time
so you'd be the first one to say it

when I called you on your birthday
three weeks later
you didn't answer

the shirt you gave back to me smells like you,


but i still have it on.

a philosophy of life.
because you can't know why

some of us liveand some of us die
or why the light caught your eyes

in my bedroom that winter night
as the days got longer,

you planned an escape
far away for better days

and you said you'd still love me.

And im staring to think that god doesn't love me at all
if he created pain he's just watching me fall
and if god created it all, then he created sin
so us poor fools
didnt have a chance to begin
so I smoke cigarettes for the same reason i fall in love;
i like to hurt, thanks to god above
I tear myself up from the inside out
and I get drunk so I know who I'm writing about.

it's like when i saw you
i had woken up from a dream
only to realize
everything that came before
was a nightmare