I'm not going to write a cliche poem,
But if I was going to, I would write about,
The way your eyes hold undiscovered galaxies
That slant in a purple-blue haze over the mountains
Of which, the silhouettes dance in the horizon
And how your eyes twinkle with distant stars
That make up the constellations that spell out your name
The name that echoes through the universe and bounces back unmatched
This isn't a cliche love poem,
But if it was, the next stanza would be devoted to
The way your words flow like rivers over your lips
And spill out like a flash flood full of meaning
That drowns my doubts and fears and washes away my insecurities
And how your sentences crash into the world like a wave
As they recede back into the ocean and leave something new
While the current swirls around and changes the tides plans
This poem isn't filled with cliche metaphors,
But if it was, then I would say that
Everything you do steadies my racing heart
Your kiss lifts me up into the sky yet you hold to the ground
You hug me tighter when you know I need it
Even when I don't know that I need a hug you somehow do
Your arms lift the world from my shoulders
Even though you have a galaxy upon yours
Your hugs leave me warm with a cold spot
Of your memory wrapped around me
This is not a cliche poem
Except for the fact that it is after all

You are a boy of metal
One who doesn't recognize his own value
Precious metals all the same
Their sum only equals your eyes
And neglects the rest of everything you are
Pure silver ringed along your pupils
And gold dancing across the edges
Gallium words melt my heart
This periodic table of you

We are a picture perfect puzzle
The picture perfect puzzle pieces
Fit from every angle
We don't have to try to make the picture perfect

3/12/2019
This line is the first
And here, this is two
No matter how many times it’s been rehearsed
I can’t stop thinking of you

This is the stanza where I confess
And this is the line to prepare
In all honesty, I’m a total mess
I cannot express how much I care

Now this is the part
Where I can’t stop thinking
Of when you make me fall apart
And into your eyes I start sinking

Finally now, comes the end
A stanza, a poem, a line
Everything becomes hard to comprehend
And I can’t believe that your mine

“**** culture”
...
Even the phrase slices my tongue and cuts like a double-edged sword of double standards.
...
The same double standards that say that a girl who wears makeup is a ***** but says that if she doesn’t then she’s ugly.
...
The same double standards that say that if a girl wears a skirt then she’s desperate but if she wears jeans then she’s stiff.
...
Double standards that keep even the strongest girls asking “Who am I supposed to be?”
...
The double standard that require **** kits with pamphlets like pamphlets are gonna help us get better.
...
**** culture requires underwear for women with a lock on it, password and all! Buy one get one free, not of the underwear, but the rapists!
...
**** culture, the same one you see on the news and in the streets and schools and stores and malls and parks and sports and on the ******* sidewalks.
…
This next line is for the man in the beaten up red car who cat-called me when I was 15 while I was walking to my friends house last summer: No thanks, I don't want to “smile, little mama”
…
This line is to the sixth grade teacher in my old school district who was fired for sexually harassing and abusing his students: Who do you think you are to be putting your hands up shirts of 12 year old girls?
…
This next line is for the man on the news who said “Well she was wearing a skirt, so she was practically asking for it” Excuse me, sir, but that glass ceiling was made of glass it was just asking to be smashed, right?
...
The patriarchy shatters around their fragile masculinity and breaks into one thousand pieces before cutting the survivor’s wrists because no one ever believes them.
...
This is the stigma that is delivered upon the doorstep of **** culture’s house by the UPS worker named “Societal Pressures”. The package that no one wants to receive. It knocks at your door but you try to keep it locked.
...
“Knock knock?” “Who’s there?” “**** joke” “**** joke who?” “**** joke who isn’t ******* funny”.
...
**** culture is the societal pressure that is put on us to be beautiful, not for ourselves, but for the man who sees us every morning.
...
**** culture is the demand to smile for the old man that we just passed on the street near the bakery but keeping our mouths shut when we have something to say.
...
**** culture is standing in front of the mirror everyday before school making sure that I can't be targeted for anything that I'm wearing. Looking at every seem, every angle, every button and zipper.
...
**** culture is how I (along with my friends) can't walk by a group of boys without pulling up our already uncomfortably high necklines and ducking our heads.
...
**** culture runs in the veins of every girl, woman, and man that is subject to society.
...
**** culture is the phrase I'm not supposed to say but I say anyway because I deserve to be heard.

I'm sorry... is this not "real life"? I must have walked through the wrong door. You see: I walked through the door that had the word "reality" engraved across it's chestnut wood. I walked through the door that had the burning handle so hot it branded me with the truth on my palm when I turned the ****. I walked through the door that was jammed shut with the stuffings of lies that I've told myself for the past how ever many centuries. I walked through the same door that you did, seemingly, since that was the only door that I saw. So how, excuse me for asking, is your reality any more "real life" than mine? You tell me that I should be preparing for the "real world" but how is this not real enough for you? If this isn't the real world than how does anyone survive real life. Just because we're kept in an institution that shoves unnecessary knowledge down our already tear-choked throats doesn't mean this isn't real. Just because we don't know how we feel about the crazy world around us doesn't mean this isn't real. Just because you can't seem to respect us like we respect the rest of you doesn't mean for one second that this isn't real. I sincerely apologize if you've been put under the false pretense that I'm living a fairy-tale because I'm not. I sincerely apologize if, this whole time, you thought that I was writing the perfect dream poem of love for myself, because I wasn't. I sincerely apologize if you saw me and thought that I was some fantastic princess who smiles and sings to birds, because I don't. I don't understand how you don't think this isn't real life because I certainly do. So does the girl who doesn't even want to live anymore, this is real life to her and it hurts her. So does the guy who just killed himself because he can't handle the academic rocks that settle in his stomach when he hears the words "high school" or "homework". I certainly think this is real life, or are the lines on my wrists just plots to another princess story you were told when you were young. Are the scars just the structural integrity for the castle you dreamed of as a little kid with pointed roofs. I certainly think this is real life because tripping into love and falling out again hurts us just as much as it hurts you. I certainly think this is real life because my stress is just as heavy as yours it just goes by a different nickname. Call it academic or peer or life but stress is stress and my threshold has a different line than yours. Don't tell me this isn't real life just because your fire-breathing dragon breathes fire that burns brighter blue than mine. Don't tell me this isn't real life just because your hair has to be longer to let down and to climb up. Don't tell me this isn't real life just because you're prince-charming took longer to rescue you than mine did. Because I am my own dragon. I am my own ladder to climb. I am my own prince-charming and I'll save myself from this life. Because this is real life, and if it isn't, then I'm never going to make it.

I love when you tell me to imagine
And describe a future with no names
A woman and a man and a child
Stumbling in her first step tumbles
You ask me who they are
Those people holding her up
But I never answer your question
Until later in the hallway I look in your eyes
And say "I hope that is us someday"

3/15/2019
To go with your instincts is what they say
But I'm just going to follow my heart
And if it leads to you at the end of the day
Then I will happily fall apart

I need to process my thoughts
But I can't stop thinking of you
My mind keeps connecting unnecessary dots
And so I don't know what to do

Your eyes, your lips, your hair and your smile
I'm melting to my own sunset of doubt
And when you walk away, my heart it will shout
I want you to stay, but you won't

I am temporary,
But somehow,
It seems like we
Are forever

You deserve more
But when you hold me
I am convinced
That you will never let go

And when you speak
Your words form together
And string phrases
That echo within my head

And somehow
I know I will go
And I know
You will leave me first

But every minute
And every day
Seems to stretch further
Into the cave of my memory

You tell me I'm beautiful
And though the words are hard to hear
You become the only thing with me
And we are our own temporary Forever

Theater 12
Holds secrets unknown
Down the hall
Last door on the left
An unwatched movie shown to be seen
But never payed attention to
Theater 12
Block out the words
And be there, with them
Theater 12

You kiss me
Hands in my back pockets
Lips pressed against mine in retaliation
To my words that I use as weapons against myself
You silence the gun that I point at my own heart
You dull the blade that I so crave to touch
You untie the noose that I have tied long ago
You empty the pill bottle I could swallow whole
You give me a reason to push through this moment
You give me a reason to get through the pain
You give me a reason to smile, to laugh, to love once again
You
Give me a reason
To live

I see pictures of places I can only dream of traveling to
Of the milky way across the mountains
Slanted purple blue rings that run across the stars like rivers
The stars like rocks intermediately scattered between the colors
Of pink sunrises with gold flecks of sunshine
And dark blue sunsets with silver reminders of the stars
Mountain cut-outs of a silhouetted journey
The complete silence of our own universe
My whispers muted by your chest as you hold me
And just as no one knows how many stars are in the sky,
I can never quite express how much I love you
I count the colors within your eyes but get lost every time
The invisible rings of Jupiter that dance along your pupils
There are too many layers of jagged lines to keep track of
The footprints on the moon will be there for 100 million years
But your hand print on my cheek will linger longer
We wrote our own adventures between the constellations
Connect the stars and even the big dipper cannot contain my heart
Wandering through the astrological maps of us within your eyes
Your palms hold the moon and the earth
Your eyes have the fiery dance of the sun
Your words have the gravity of a black hole
That I fall into without a stumbling doubt
We whisper true nothings into the night
And our breath clouds into our own nebulas
That form the stars we point at in the dark sky
And dream of being part of them as we laugh into the air
And yours shines brighter than the moon above us
And as the sun lifts and the moon sinks down
We tell each other the secrets we only speak in our dreams
The orange blue colors lift in a smooth pallet
As we reach our hands towards the velvet sky
The jet streams scar the morning with white lines
And we trace our fingers along where the colors meet
Holding each others hands and hearts
As the night melts into the day
And I have discovered a new planet called "Happiness"
Within the universe called "Us"

We are untitled
Like a song not yet composed
With half a verse still hanging
An unfinished rhythm of rhyme
A note not yet held to it's potential
Lyrics to which an unheard song is sung
A song that hasn't been heard
Our love is untitled

Blow a dandelion
Scattered wishes
Weedkiller breathes death upon their hopes

Wish upon
A shooting star
Destroyed debris grants nothing

Pennies in wells
Change for a wish
Leftover change in an empty case

Rabbits foot
On a chain
Hopping stops a hoping dream

Four leaf clover
Picking flowers
Wishing on the dead weeds kills

Wishbone breaking
A wish come true
One is left with a broken heart

Birthday candles
Blow, make a wish now
Burning reflections in teary eyes

A hopeless sky
Ignorant innocence
Children’s wishes turn to dust

A hopeful fairytale
Told stories of love
A broken heart reveals the truth

3/11/2019
My eyes are like wolves,
You say you love them
Your eyes
A silver-green fire
A moss plant
Enchanted with your words
A hazel autumn field
With sunlight beams
My hair gets in my face,
You say that it’s cute
Your hair
A perfect curly fluff
That bounces when you walk
The epitome of upbeat
The soft curl of your hair
That just floats where you are
My words are cunning and sharp
You say that they’re intelligently spoken
Your words
At exactly the right time
In the perfect order to fluster my heart
The syllables crash together in a symphony
Your voice a chorus of itself
Knowing without the need of a script
I am valuable
You say that I don’t know my true worth
Your value
Outshines the oxygen we breath
And climbs over the water we drink
You climb the mountain and still climb more
Your worth is overflowing my heart and my mind
Losing you would be losing alot more than a person