midnight
a blinking blue light in the dark
unseen by the eyes closed to sleep
one
caught in dreams unwaking
free in the world of the mind’s making
two
the room fills with slow breaths
a clock ticks, the light blinks with unrest
three
outside the stars shine down
the moon passes behind a cloud
four
everything is quiet, is peaceful
lost in a night increasingly deceitful
five
the blinking light ceases, phone dead
as dreams continue to flood the head
six
nothingness
no witnesses
seven
the time to awaken passes
sleep continues, late for classes
eight
panic ensues, phone lays forgotten
rushing to school without cation

Nine to Nine
passing time, look around quick
missing partner in crime, must be home sick
how rude to leave me here, alone, a day feels like a year
rushing home, so much to do, homework to go through
dinner with the family, shove it in fast
remember the dead phone at last
the charge is climbing steadily
but slowly, too gone to use readily
finally charged, the blinking is back

ten
one missed call, one voicemail, one text
explain it all
eleven
go to sleep, after letting many tears fall
unable to do anything but withdraw
midnight
no light blinks, no message awaits
no partner in crime, no god, no fate

there are things that aren't mine to tell
the same can be said of you as well
even as our every cell pushes us to expel it

some secrets that I've bid people keep
were steeped in stigma, dangerous to sweep
into a corner with all my black sheep

the question comes now, 20/20 hindsight
why none of them put up a fight
as I made them complicit in hiding my plight

I was grateful then, but now I'm not sure
that keeping it secret was the best cure
but I still believe their intentions were pure

They were.
They were.

Words are so much more than a single definition
We all see the world in different ways,
just as we all use a different set of words to describe it

an argot is not a disadvantage
an accent is not condemnation
and slang is not uneducated

Different interpretations do not implicate
all but one is correct
Different views of the world are good
Together we can see things in a way
no one ever has before

This is not the time for a single definition
This is a time for argots
for accents
for slang

This is a time for learning the world
has more than one definition
And the people in it mean so much more
than one thing

Hello. I said again today in the same way that I always say
Goodbye. I cried on the carride home surprised you felt as I
Next summer. I will see you then and when we meet again
Who knows. A year away i cannot say what may grace our next page

today i had a thought unbidden
but not at all unwelcome
centered around something
that has made its way into the heart
of what we are

It’s been there when
I was at my worst
when he was at his

It’s been there when
we were happy and content

It’s been there when
each of us was stressed
beyond comprehension

and today the thought came
that i wouldn’t mind at all
if it was there when we move in together
when we make a life together
when we share a bed together
when we go through losses together
when we go through triumphs together

it’ll be there
and so will he

whether he carries it in and lays it over me
as i struggle to take a breath alone
or it’s stuffed in a backpack
pulled out when someone gets cold
Or it’s at the foot of a bed
that we share in the future

out of place in any month but December
that Christmas blanket
wrapped around the both of us
as we face life together
and spend the extra time
we both tried to give away
loving each other
each and every day

Breathing is feeling
it can be revealing
if someone is there to listen

Steady .  In .  Calm .
HEAVY  IN  PAIN
r a p i d   i n   p a n i c
never the same

Breathing is living
and I am forgiving my past actions
now fighting to find satisfaction
waiting with bated breath
for what comes next

So this is what it feels like
to realize something is different
this is a whole other story
Do I have to come out?
Do people like me have to do that?
How does that work?

Or do I just go about
until an SO finds out?
Then where will I be...
steeped in my anxiety.
What do I do? Who should I tell?
Surely someone who won't scoff
and say I'm just unwell

It finally clicked tonight
why relationships failed
why I'm still like Mary
Why I judge people often
though their behavior is normal
and mine is glaringly different

Average age: 17.4 apparently
Where does that leave me
but questioning my sanity?

It's not the fact that I'm not in the masses
that bothers me here,
But the fact that I don't know what comes next:
it's unclear

counting days and numbers
has always been a thing of mine
a numerical reminder
that everything will be fine

a continuous count of days
'til I get to see you again
and another count proving
i've gone so long without a line of red

it may be all in my head
that this consistent counting saves me
but instead of waiting patiently
I count without ever ending

tangled in the sheets still half asleep
sun peeking in on this moment of peace
warmth fills the room and a tentative smile
reflects that the actions of night were worthwhile

maybe it's nature or maybe it's fate
the acceptance and love I see on your face
a movie, a kiss, then we laid down like this
and just fell asleep to wake up in bliss

we may have a different kind of love
but the sun in the sky doesn't judge
and in the privacy of home and heart
golden acceptance is a wondrous start

Dream interpretation is far from a science
but when I read what they say, I buy in
for the accuracy presented to me
makes it hard to remember not to believe
the interesting things dreams seem to perceive.

Plane crash, water landing, somehow I survived.
Ten thousand feet into a nosedive
interpretation claims the crash signifies
unrealistic goals, unreachable highs.
That sounds about right.

Next is the medium of my almost demise
the water I jumped into as I fell from the sky.
Interpretation claims the water is for
deep regret and emotion I swore
I was over, but I don't know anymore

Last is the moment that brings me some peace,
the interpretation of surviving this mighty beast
suggesting that I can survive through the worst
and take on the world as it comes at me headfirst
redemption for my overzealous thirst.

and even in dreams, they are there
the people for whom I most care
There to hug and share my joy
There to make sure I don't destroy
myself with the dreams I employ

The ellipses I use at the end of phrases
hold the world of my thoughts unsaid
in those three little dots my life goes unread
but what if I said all those words instead?

"If I could be invisible for a day, I'd stand on
top of a building and watch the world go by..."
before taking the final step and saying goodbye

"I really can't right now..."
I'm lying in bed and my mind won't allow
me to get up, but I'll see you around

"Nothing new lately..."
nothing really at all, too numb to care
too numb for life, too numb to share

"I'm better at answering questions than telling..."
so please notice something is wrong
I've been holding it in far too long

"I get what you're saying..."
but somehow I don't believe you
when you say life is worth seeing through

"Yeah..."
I love you, I miss you, I need help, I tried.
I'm sorry, I'm broken, I'm stupid, I'm blind.

I wish that this helped, but it didn't this time
but everything is fine...

technology is available and overused
we spend hundreds on this addiction
screens and skin alike bruised
endless sleep with no benediction

a generation stumbles around confused
as safe havens are filled with ammunition
fake news and important figures look on amused
content in their obscure depictions
the cries of thousands are refused
the story of schoolchildren mere nonfiction

technology is available and overused
people and phones alike are
dropped, cracked, broken, and abused
we fix that which can be replaced
as thousands of faces are erased
from this horrid place

i miss you. more than i thought i would
i miss how you watch without staring,
how you help without overbearing.

i miss how you hide around others but not me,
how you always have my back without touching

i miss how your eyes show emotion
when i can bring myself to look,
how you seem to read me like an open book

i miss the walks to and from,
the way you always ask if i had fun

i miss your sarcasm and wit,
how we don't want to split
as the night comes to an end

trust me, my friend, i miss you
and i can't wait to see you again.

Half in,
half out
been running about
trying to find the right place
for my devout ineptitude
It's not for lack of aptitude
or deteriorating attitude of my situation,
but an alternative observation
and subsequent creation of a world
in which my station does not allow for proclamation of my revelations. 

Half in,
Half out
***** one night, then stout
Trying to avoid the past
filled with my proud mistakes
Not to misplace myself
or fall into disgrace, but to embrace
the oblivion brought upon by haste
to reach the bottom of a bottle
To soothe the distaste of reality
leading myself to waste

Half in,
Half out
I've learned to doubt
Trying to trust very few
Folding the hand I was dealt
Foregoing the bluff of a smile
Blocking how it felt on my side of the belt
now hidden by clothes and modesty
But honestly im doing fine
Though honesty is for only the devine
Did you catch my lie within these lines?

What would you do's
and who would you save's
and all the hard questions
we make jokes of and play
                 But one day we may
                 have to take them seriously
                 so now I consider them wearily
Between my life and yours
I'd save you in a heartbeat
and hope that one day
we may once again meet
                 Though between you and the world
                 I'd much sooner die
                 than have to decide between
                 what is selfish and what's right.

it’s been awhile, hasn't it
since i've written,
since i’ve seeked solace in poems

It’s been awhile, i’ll admit it
since i’ve needed to
since i’ve felt out of control

I’m happier now, than I was back when
I wrote away my pain
I wrote away my confusions

The days ahead look brighter
and it’s all because of him
and it’s all because he’s him

A history major, they ask, "What's the point?"
I answer: to learn the origin of disjoint
in our messed up society with ascribed labels,
nothing like the kings of old, sitting at roundtables.
To learn the origin of our government system
and all the subsequent attempts to resist them.
To learn the reason we all have to hide
or take the ridicule dished out in stride.
The past holds the key to the future ahead,
repeating the past ensures we all end up dead.
Yet serving as the fighting force against the majority,
often serves to accentuate our inferiority.
So history, yes, is important to me
because I learn all the reasons our society
shoves roles upon us, labels and judges.
I won't stand for that, I'll dredge up the past
and I hope next time you meet a history major -
you don't ask.

I am
a staged house
meant to seem perfect for you
a turtle, shelled
wondering if the dark inside is normal
a locked box
with secrets inside, undisclosed
an echo
no longer what it once was
a nightmare
pretending to be a nice dream

I have no claim over that which I am proud
I refuse to believe that means I'm not aloud
to feel the way I do

I have no dreams that I do not wish to make reality
I refuse to believe that means I must agree
To adopt society's mentality

I have no problem protecting what I love
I refuse to step down when push comes to shove
silently planning a coup

I have no powerful status, no connections
but I will not be a mindless reflection
I will stay true

To them, I am not a threat
let that be their last regret

There is a problem with this world
we pass one test and then ask what's next
the pattern set forth, so simple, yet complex
this life into which we are hurled.

The world is so scripted, so determined
as we are pitted against one another
fire burning at the bottom rung
so we all must climb for the heights
only to be burned by the sun.

bite my tongue and bide my time
let them make their mistakes
as they let me make mine

talking again, 'that's good' I say
but in reality, I'm screaming inside
I just want to cry out

I can't see you die inside like before
at war with the one you once loved
please, no more

bite my tongue and close my eyes
and pray there will be no pieces
to pick up when their talking ceases

We throw away many things
if they are broken.
Old toys, mirrors, clothes

But we try to mend many things
we perceive to have value.
Baby blanket, foundation, phone

Where do I fit, sitting alone?
Should I be thrown away?
Lost, confused, unknown

Or is there some value in me
that I cannot see
that will push someone
to mend me.

Hope is a word echoing down the corridor
after a friend just out of hearing range

Beauty is an imperceivable imperfection
impossible to detect

Remembering is the bittersweet chocolate
you can’t help but eat again and again

Knowledge is the admission of your
minds’ omission of omniscience

Music is the ray of sun peeking out
after a day of gloom and grey

Society is a broken clock without
a horologist to fix the hidden gears

Metaphors are buckets
bailing out the sinking ship of life

boys get away with a lot, it's not luck,
it's brushed of as sowing oats, running amuck
girls mature faster than boys, that isn't by nature
it's nurture, it's the rules we employ
our expectations raise girls in a much faster way
to become a nurturer themselves instead of play

while boys are given more time in childhood
riding and crashing bikes in the neighborhood,
girls sit at home learning patience and care
as they sit silently playing, brushing dolls' hair

expectations are different for girls and for boys
this is not nature, it's nurture, it's society's ploy

you have deadlines
but you also have friends
you have needs
but you also have dreams
you have a voice
but some days are silent
you have a chance
but first you have to admit:
you have a life -
Now do more than survive it

"You're good at math, too bad that means
everyone will hate you, for the rest of your life."

"You worked ahead, good for you
but don't talk about it, I don't need that stress."

"You have an A, and you're sitting there shaking?
I have a C, do you see anything wrong with me?"

"You, yeah you, you've done the homework, right?
I haven't yet, what's the answer to nine?"

"Hey nerd, hey loser, your answer was wrong.
I got a bad grade on the homework: it's all your fault."

"You're crying, that's nice, stop hyperventilating you faker
I'm standing up while you're there on the ground
right where you belong, I've found."

Stop.
Make it stop.
I SAID STOP!

Yeah me, the loser, the geek.
You push me down because you're jealous,
I think. I tried to help
I tried to be nice
But being around you is worse
than losing a fistfight.

Your words are cruel and filled with anger
towards me, someone who hasn't done a thing
against you. Conversely, I've helped.

Don't take any memories of me
when you end up in hell.
Oh - was that mean? I'm sorry
I couldn't tell.

My emotions are shadowed, you see
by the medication they decided to give me
for the anxiety, the panic,
that you ignored. It set me free

I see a tree and it's a tree
not some metaphoric symbology
and that bird is just a bird
and that creak I heard
is not a ghost, it's just a loose board
some think that's boring
but this is how I view the world you see
strictly reality

red drips slowly down an arm
elbow to wrist, silver scars
mutilating a once bright
life, and new additions
insist on existence:
gone is the fight

This newfound happiness takes a lot of energy,
yet somehow I'm not tired anymore

The days spent lying in bed are just memories;
I'm no longer in a state of war

Bypassing new obstacles cleverly,
life seems no longer like a chore

Happiness takes a lot of energy
but through it, life is restored

A slip means a knick
            means a straight line of red
A slip does not mean that I'd rather be dead
So don't
              slant
                       your eyes and give up on me
A slip means a new start
                        a new chance to be

i will never be someone else
but the self i am can grow
and change and rearrange
til there's something new to show

each day i go somewhere new
but the path home is lined with light
as my mind and body travel by day
then rush back home by night

somehow new tales unfold
the good, the bad, the rote
from the happenings of passing time
chapter by chapter we stay afloat

someone else, somewhere else
may somehow disagree
but somewhen else, i will be
the best that i can be

Starting a book is like falling asleep

You lie down and close your eyes
You read the first page
Still painfully aware of the real world around you

The smallest thing may distract you and pull you from the edge of falling
Into sleep
Into the story

You wonder if the world will ever fall away

And then, when you aren't thinking about it anymore, when you thought it would never come

You're asleep
You're on page 137

And the real world is gone
For some amount of time

Until you jolt awake
Until you are pulled from the story

Fold back the covers
Fold down a worn corner

And reenter the world

The color purple.
A football field.
A hand of a giant in mine.
The smell of stale beer.
Cigarette smoke.

that was the first time
so young and so blind
yet the memory is refined
behind closed eyes
the beginning of the recording
when I hit rewind

I've never had a way with words
though my thoughts run rampantly
Opposed to a herd or flock
running in every which way
instead of the same like a clock
But I've never been able
to pin them down
I write and frown as the words
Dont seem to say
What i want
Or i peel my eyes and wait
For the time my pencil wakes
And writes its own mind
Because mine has obviously forgotten
How to write out a simple plot and
Even as i look back on this
I see my words
have missed
a lot
My thoughts remain inside my head
Searching for a common thread
A path to that small bit of lead
In my hand, still,
waiting for something to break out

I've finally realized my worst nightmare.
All it took was reading something that was always there
hidden in the recesses of someone else's mind,
written down for yours and mine
to process and enjoy, relate to then forget
as we continue down the rabbit hole of online.

But this story, this time, seemed to stick.

I've met my greatest fear, the panic it incurs.
The breathlessness. The blurriness. The helplessness.
merely from the though of it...
to forget

take my hand and i'll take yours
down every path, we'll open doors
dark and light, wrong or right
we will make it through the night

don't look down, the rope is thin
pray there's not a gust of wind
joy and pain, sun and rain
our lives burning like flames

the hill is steep and so's the price
but if we make it up in time
you and I, today and forever
can make it through any weather

I will wake up tomorrow
never again to rest my head
in this place, in this bed.

I will wake up tomorrow
and return home head high
after so many days gone by.

I will wake up tomorrow
a better person for the things I've gone through
and while I may not be brand new, this is a preview.

I will wake up tomorrow
with a smile, with a laugh,
in this place, in this bed
bittersweet that it had to end.

I feel like I am talking to you
in my own little way
interacting with words without
fear of you knowing what I say

A freedom hard won
though so easily lost
as the hints start to line up
chalked up to coincidence
but at what cost?

And I know it may be due
to the fact I hate keeping secrets from you
the hints went both ways
I see that as true

but that was back then, and this is now
and I want you to see this name
as just another in the crowd

but that seems a realization
already a little too late
so just tell me if I need to run away
and find a new name

watching the numbers tick by on the clock
contemplating existence and its imminent end
never thought i'd see those numbers again
maybe I should take a walk around the block
scream to the sky, where no one can mock

it's different this time, in the dead of night
my eyes grow dim and hazy, dizzy in the head
wishing he weren't here, and I were in bed
but there is no sun here, no stars, no light
I've barely the strength to fight my own fight

something in me is broken, a crack in the shell
maybe this is the last time those numbers drift by
and i'll find peace where i'm headed after I die
for here, i've found myself in a personal hell
wondering how the devil knew me so well

I am still here
I am not going away
I am here to stay
I will make it someday

life throws out woes
to catch if you can
Catch, why catch a woe?
because dropping it means
you can't handle the throw

Never had a good way to express my emotions,
nor a safe way, nor an efficient way.
Even this pen in my hand is a dangerous thing
with just the right tip to be able to hurt me
as I think of turning my only savior into enemy.

But instead I use it correctly, use it as a go-between,
writing the words I still can't say to this day
Help me, please help me, and don't leave me.
my soft whispered mantra, as loud as a scream.

Things are changing, that much is always true,
but I am so terrified of losing you, of losing myself,
of losing this seemingly so fragile peace.

I'm trying to do what I know is right,
but reminiscing calls forth fight or flight