The silvery light bouncing off the water traps me in its low-lit love
I'm tired of standing here
Light-headed with an empty heart
Buckling under the pressure of my ache
I don't know why I ache, can't find a reason, really
I've been trapped in your silvery light
For all of this time
But it turned less into love
And more into fondness
And all that was there retreating
Decrepit feelings
Weak with age
Until I start to lose everything
It starts feeling like there was nothing there to begin with
Like all of a sudden
I'm up here
And you're gone
And all the steps we built
Have disappeared
And I'm falling
Like Wylie Coyote off a cliff
In that stupid show
Then I get it
He spent all that time
Building all those steps
Then he falls
Into nothing
No wonder he's angry

Nothing
Nothing
Nothing
At all
Is coming to mind
All of the words
They mean nothing
None are wise
No rhyming lines
That seem clever
I have nothing today
And I suppose that is the way it should stay
Nothing
Forever
Nothing for any of the days
Not any more

Dear moonchild,
If you are reading this
You know about the sun
How its rays mean it's our time to sleep
Because we aren't the normal creatures of the Earth
Sometimes they tell us
That our smiles are menacing
When we meet up at the in-betweens
Dawn, and dusk
I've only known a few day wakers
They found me too profound
My silvery skin
And gray hair too much from them
My smile brought tears
My skin too real for them
You see, moon child,
You'll always be too different for the day wakers
But it doesn't matter
Because we sleep with the moon
The natural state of the Earth
In the forest
With all of the other little creatures
They thought too extreme
Or not extreme enough for them
We are never right
But I think
In their pink skin
And brown hair
They look like fools
Their stupidity detracting away from their non-existence
So moon child,
Only rise when the moon is up
And sleep when it is down
We don't follow the rules
Of the day waker's sun

All of the deleted poems
All of the time I spent crying over the fact
That my poems weren't good enough
All the time that I felt helpless
Because I couldn't find a future in what I want to do
All of that time I wasted on hoping
That all of these words
And lines
Would be more than just a hobby
All of the incoherent mumbling in my head
Telling me what the next verse should be
All of it
But what's it to me?

People have seen with me
With my short dyed hair

But they haven't known me
And they are already avoiding me

I don't know
What they think of me

But I bet it goes something like this:

"I bet she hasn't a home to go to after this"

"Oh, the poor dear looks horrible,
I am glad I never looked like that"

" What drugs is this freakaziod on? "

" What was she thinking? "

"    Why is she like that?     "

But I have always wondered,



"               Why do they care?              "

Have I just hit a demographic
That thinks something is what it's not?

I'm tired if getting your likes
Your loves, your haves and have-nots

I didn't write it in the way that you think
I didn't mean to say those things

Why do you like it?
My mediocre poem?

Is it because it means self destruction?
And you like it as so?

I'm sorry that I don't understand
Why you like my poem

When there was nothing to like
About what I wrote

Don't tell me
That I am being weak

Because I have seen too much
To become weak

I'm not weak
Mentally or otherwise

I am the tree they lean on
When they can no longer stand

I'm not weak
I am human

And as humans
We are never perfect

But I am far from weak
And so are you

None of us can be strong forever
Not even the strongest

The same water
That softens the potato
Hardens the egg
It's not the circumstances
It is if what you are made