Why is everyone so depressed?
Why is everyone so stressed?
Why is everyone so scared?

What the hell is going on with today's youth?

I wonder what kind of music you listen to

changed my sheets and forgot your name.

your hair looks nice

I think I'm in love with you.

im falling off the edge of my bed waking up where am i

I really like you

like a lot

and I think you're super amazing and funny and beautiful and wonderful in basically every way and I care about you way more than is probably rational

I know you probably have no idea what to say to that and I'm sorry for the 5 minutes of awkward this is gonna cause

but I really needed you to know that

because you're really something special

and if there is any way I can ever help you be happy, or be there for you at all, I am 100% here

I'd like that a lot.

I'm not expecting any kind of response I just think that when you feel this strongly about someone you should tell them.

ok that's all

I'm in love with the way you
laugh
and your smiling
eyes.
dear god you are perfect.

to find that perfect balance
between
you are my world
and
*this is my life

to surround yourself with people you love

skating around the idea that i
might be
better off
alone.

what do u think the purpose of life is

I don't mean like humanity's purpose as a whole. just like the purpose of one persons individual life

I think the purpose of life is just to be happy

and even in like 4th grade ppl would like ask "what's the purpose of life" and have these intense conversations and I didn't understand what the question was

bc it was pretty obvious to me that you were just supposed to be happy

and everything that we do is just a step in reaching eventual happiness

but now I'm rethinking that and I don't think the goal is EVENTUAL happiness

but rather perpetual happiness

why should I suffer now? I mean

like love is a **** thing that hurts like hell

but ppl go through it bc they hope that it'll make them really happy for the rest of their life

but I've been realizing lately that while love is the answer to happiness, that love is not at all necessarily for another person

but rather love for your own life and the world in general

this sounds totally fake and cheesy but

like I realized the other day this is the first time in like 3 years that I've been without a girlfriend and I'm having to regain my independence and love for the little things in my life

like my friends and good food and literally just the thought of taking a walk before the sun comes up

and skype calls with ppl who I really enjoy with my window open and the lights off and forgetting that it's not summer

and not having to tell someone "I'll brb I have to go eat dinner I'm sorry I'm so sorry I'll be back soon"

and falling asleep whenever I want

and waking up without wanting to throw up

it makes you realize "what the **** was I doing"

and then another part of you answers the question.

"being in love, *******"

"forgetting to love yourself"

"thinking, someone else will love me. I don't have to love myself"

I don't know what I thought a relationship was supposed to be before now but it was so wrong

that was toxic, and I am so much better off loving myself than loving her

"one day I will be the sun,
and I will burn brighter
than you could believe."

I'm getting better at writing
and worse at sleeping.

i found the love of my life too late

and im only 18

rad

cool and rad

sand in my bed
clouds set in my head

"she's not just a girl, in my eyes. she's, like, a symbol of beauty in the world."

Written 03.27.16

I am the boy who sits next to you in class. I glance sideways at you more times than you catch me, and we share laughs. I criticize your taste in music; it’s too loud and angry. You just smile and turn it up louder.  I am just the boy who sits next to you in class.

I am the one who texted you first because I had seen a movie that reminded me of you, and I told you about it as I watched the fireworks from the top of a parking garage on Independence Day. I am a friend, but I am not someone to whom you would tell your stories. I am the one who texted first.

I am your friend, and we spend hours on end, texting or FaceTiming as I harass children on Club Penguin and you scold me for being so mean. I am your friend and we send each other BuzzFeed quizzes and YouTube videos. I can tell that you like me but I can’t tell why. You are so much more fun than I am. You are much louder, and better at everything. But I am your friend.

I am the voice on the other end of the line when you don’t think you’re going to make it through the night. Days are getting shorter and nights longer and I’ve become the person you tell your stories to. And you tell me all of them, through tears or laughs, or both. And through tears or laughs I listen. I share with you my stories too, but for some reason they don’t seem as interesting, or important, or funny. You are more than me and I feel like you want me to be bigger. But I am the one who makes it okay.

I am yours. Now we fall asleep on the phone every night, and tell each other “good morning” before we open our eyes. You are with me all day. You are my everything. I do not show it, because my father taught me not to. But you are mine. And I am yours.

I am the one who makes you happy, and I take these months for granted. I do not know that in less than 4 months you will be packing your bags, screaming that I never do anything to make you smile. I take you for granted, and it is the biggest mistake of my life. But for now, I am the one who makes you happy.

I am the shirt that you only wear because it’s comfortable. You don’t necessarily like the way it looks, and you don’t love that it’s a little faded and a little small, but it fits you well in the right places, and sometimes makes you feel thin. You tell yourself it’s your favorite shirt anyway.

I am the one you need. I am the one you love. But I am not the reason you get out of bed anymore. The reason you get out of bed is the hope that maybe today will be better. Maybe today I'll do something right. I am the one you need, but I am the one who lets you down every day.

I am the stuffed animal in the corner of your bed that is falling apart, but you can’t throw it away because it has seen you at your worst and you would miss holding it.

I am watching us disintegrate as I stop being the one you go to, because I am so unreliable. I can only offer you words and you need more than someone who is just good with words. You need someone who can make you feel like you’re on top of the world, and that someone is not me. But you desperately want that someone to be me. You tell me you love me, and I answer quickly I love you too but each of us doubts the other, and neither of us believes ourselves.

I am listening to you suggest that maybe we should like... take a break and neither of us knows how long this will be, and neither of us knows if we’ll ever come back.

I am still telling you goodnight, and I still walk you to school because I still love you. But I am realizing that you better off without me, because you stay out all night to avoid thinking about me, and you don’t like coming home anymore because your bed reminds you of me. But I still hold on to you because I can’t bear to see you go.

I am just your bedtime story, whispering into the phone when you can’t sleep. And after you fall asleep I whisper my feelings to you, because I’m not allowed to speak them when you’re awake anymore. I am just your bedtime story because that’s all you need me for anymore. And that’s okay, because I don't need you to love me back, I will make sure you fall asleep before I close my eyes and I will call you in the morning if I haven’t heard from you yet to make sure you didn’t oversleep and I will still call you baby but only after you fall asleep and I will still kiss my hand before I hang up the phone and I will still pick you flowers and buy you donuts and walk you to school and remind you about the vocab quizzes in english class so you don’t **** yourself cramming the night before and I will continue to listen to the music I used to criticize once upon a time, long after you stop thinking about me. I will continue to love you and I will continue to be your bedtime story if that’s all you need me for.

I will forever be your bedtime story.

Written 08.21.16**

I am rereading these words and am made sick by the pathetic, desperate clinging words of my former self, less than 6 months ago. I tell myself I will never fall this deeply again, I will not lose myself to someone who stops appreciating me. I will not destroy myself anymore. I am healthy, and I am not ashamed of my emotions anymore.

hope for happier

you're beautiful with makeup on, too.

every developed thought i communicate is a waste of syllables.

cherry-flavored memories
stain my mattress like
watercolor *****.

voices haunt my headspace
I see people in the dark, moving splotches
on my walls
save me the monsters are coming.

horizontal kissing
playground platform
dirt and *** and sand
between your

green blanket
green tea
green is my favorite color
green eyes
sometimes brown
depending on
the light my
hands belong here
this is mine what's
yours is mine and I
abhor your past
adores him like
a moth adores a
flame and
I'm the smoke
and you're a joke
and life's a game
but you don't want to
play anymore
so you

split your skin
as easily as his words
cut through
your chest
**** that i'm going home
and I won't stand to watch you
throw your life away.

I can't save you so
I'll close my eyes,
or look away or leave the room your
EYES BURNED INTO THE BLACK
OF MY WALLS AT NIGHT
WHEN THE MONSTERS COME
AND I HAVE TO TOUCH HER FACE
TO KNOW SHE'S THERE AND
FEEL HER BREATH AND COUNT
THE STARS ON THE CEILING
OF MY
yes I'm doing fine.yes I'm sure.

Lying on the floor
Smells like coffee and peppermint
Bells are ringing

your crying, bright green, bloodshot eyes remind me of christmas in a sad way.
like shattered ornaments.

"*******, you're just scared and weak"

thrashing
writhing
twitching
your breaths are
silent screams of
hot air and spit
and then
broken throats
you're imploding
because exploding would
be too loud.

at once.

she's 18 and falling for me.
she is not my moon
she is my stars.

I like the stars.

she's 18 and falling for me.

.

Streaks of light.

.

Orange hazes through closed eyelids.

.

Counting cars, watching headlights.

.

Wondering to where everyone speeds off.


//


Lose count.

.

Resort to counting freckles

On your nose.

.

Your face is lit by

Passing cars and

The highways in your eyes.

.

Your loss.

how can I text you all day
without talking about anything
at all?

can we please
discuss something
other than
what we had
for breakfast?

turn in your chair to see her
catch her eye she smiles
do not look away.

her eyes heal.
make you

forget
      your
             self
your
                              

              . problems

your sleepy voice at 12:02
makes me feel
home again

makes me wonder what the stars
taste like

I loved you yesterday, too.

i forgot to have friends

in my own bed
my arms
not yours
im here not there im
mine

not
there

just a sophomore-now-junior who thinks too much, does too little, complains too often, and feels too strongly.

I am from Loony Tunes
And a red, two-seat jogging stroller,
Laughing with my sister
Sitting next to me.
I am from waking up to pigeons cooing,
Glow-in-the-dark plastic stars on distant ceilings.
When everything was new,
And bright, and fascinating.

I am from amusement parks;
Six Flags Picnics in parking lots
Because the food there was too expensive,
We brought our own and sat in the grass
With the ducks.

I am from homemade tortillas,
Fighting cousins and uncles like brothers for
The first one off the stove.
And I am from Christmas tamales
and way too much Thanksgiving turkey.

I am from music,
And the difference between hearing and listening,
And between reading and playing and feeling and living.
And not having a favorite song
Because they are all important
And they all mean something different.

I am from falling in love too quickly
With the girl across the aisle
Across the room
Across the street.
From holding my breath but not my tongue
And letting my mind wander a little too far.
"I don't like you like that"
"Oh that's okay I didn't think so anyway"
Is it wrong to feel too much?

I am from people mispronouncing my name,
Saying "here" before teachers can even attempt.
But I am from knowing I would never change it if I could,
Because if everyone could pick where they come from,
We'd all end up in the same place.

the drawbacks of being mentally sound.

nostalgic for a friendship i never had.

I
sleep better
now.

But I still miss her.

We walk into my bedroom,
continuing the conversation we had in the car.
But, don't you see? she was saying.
We all live forever.
You just have to adjust your definition of forever. I mean, what frame of reference for eternity do we have
other than our own perception?

Really, for all I'm concerned, she sighs,
falling backwards onto the bed,
the universe was born with me.

Isn't that a little bit . . . egocentric? I venture.

Don't be silly. She pulls her hat down over her eyes.
We are all our own universe.

I didn't sleep that night.

what's the difference between feeling everything
and feeling nothing?

i still haven't come up
with a reason
not to like you.

she has your body but not your face.
what does that say about us?

to not say goodnight
every night

and now it skirts away
into the gulf of apathy that is my
default setting.

I guess it was as fleeting
as the sand in my hair:
the fascination:

it subsides from
my mind
like retreating

tides, leaving dark colored
shells half- buried in the sand.
         this one's my favorite

I thought maybe you were it.
my bad.
the humidity got to my head.
my bad.

the humidity got to my head.
my heart.
forget it.
the humidity got to my head.

forgotten.
done.
I won't anymore.

but your beauty is perpetual as the moon.
walking on the beach
or sitting next to me in class.

perpetual,
what's the difference
your eyes reflecting the ocean
or fluorescent lights, too bright

what's the difference
perpetually
you
are
beautiful

chasing laughs around my head
your smile lights
the lenses of my glasses and

your name lights up my
phone screen and I stop
whatever I'm doing

is this real or am I imagining it
I want to
forget it
no
forget it
no

I wish I had more time.

I have a beautiful life
filled with beautiful people
who make me feel beautiful things.

I love my friends.

a sodden trampoline
in the backyard
after it rains.
wet grass,
bare feet,
watching from
the screen door,
yelling through
cigarette smoke,
you'll catch a cold
but
let him live.*

he wants to fly,
forget gravity,
because he's nine
and loves to feel
like
he's
falling

like he's
dancing
in the clouds,
                 
                                      ­   take my hand,
                                         fly with me.
                                             listen to wind
                                   and outside songs.

                                  squeaking springs,
                              can’t hear my mom or
                                              the tv inside,
                                                     blaring.
                                        
                                       *take my hand.    
                                   fall with me 
                             into my seldom seen,
                                  sodden
                  ­                      trampoline.