There is so much washing over me
Some good
Some bad
Some leaving scars all over my body
Like stretch marks clawing at my hips
There is too much there
My body has too much emotion
And not enough of anything else
My gasoline
Is now too much feeling
Like a phone getting hot when it had to much charge
Not explosion worthy
But **** close
There is just too
That's what I imagine
That's what I call this feeling
Too
Making more stretch marks
All around my head
A swelling and
And more scars around my heart
Clawing
As if what ever was hurting me
Was on the outside
It's just too
And that's all I know
Too much
Too little
Too bad
Too
Too much, then not enough
My breaths get deeper
Too deep
Seething, everything but my mind running my body
Too, that's all

Warm skin
Irregular heart beat
That's the trouble with smart watches,
Isn't it?
But I've been deprived of touch
For so so long
You feel...
Electric
Like all of your body is coursing with static
Each time we touch, a shock
Someday, your fingers will graze my forehead
When you sweep hair out of my eyes
And I'll smile, so will you
Then you'll shock me again
I've been away from warmth so long
That yours
Feels like standing next to the sun

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

The image is to be a great poet
With amazing imagery

But sadly I can never live up to
That incredible dream

Because I am too tired
Laid out far too thin

So I just sit there like putty
On a house

But that house crumbles
Because they didn't let me live

I had a potential
A purpose

And they squandered it
Because they thought I would look best

When I was thin
And when I was small

I guess that's the image

I'm sorry if it disappoints you all

Once I was asked
Why men called boats

And cars

And other worldly possessions
Shes and I realised it was because

It was something they owned
And that is what we are

Something to own
Not anymore

Owning a human just isn't right
Nor is it right

To be a human that is allowed
To be owned

And demeaned

Until that person is nothing

Why she?

I'm sorry

You keep telling me words
That I can't understand

Because my brain has checked out
I am no longer there

People keep talking to me
But I can't hear their voice

My head hurts
From all of this warbled noice

My heartbeat has slowed
I wanted to go to bed

But you are stopping me
From resting my weary head

You can always tell a self destructive writer
By their poetry

Because sometimes they are redundant
And other times they are expressing pain

But they always tell a story of being hurt
And locked into their own head

But this my dear, is why they write
Because the person in their head is trying to get out

Self destructive writers
Are usually dark

But when they are light
They tell you how perfect you are

So that you don't do the same thing
That they did to themselves

Self destructive writers
Don't want you to make their scars
On your arms

We write of things we have not experienced because it sounds good on paper and we live through our work. I write in the night to inform poets like me that you can make it,and there is hope for you. After all there is hope for everyone, is there not? I am alone in my bed, writing on a phone because I got the sudden urge to tell all of you, that anything can happen. That you can become a poet or a writer,that your work is really quite good, and nothing is the same as you.

I already know I'm stupid
And that I don't have a brain
I don't need to be reminded
So can you just treat me the same?

And I know that I'm not pretty
And no one will love me when I look like this
But I don't care
And I already know

I already know that I'm not sporty
And that I'm out of shape
But I don't care
And don't say it to my face

I'm afraid to love
Because I know people who "loved"
And hated it
Because it made them feel everything at once

And it hurt them
Because love is blind
And I'm afraid to love
Because I already can't see

I always hated writing formats
Because if I wanted to be put into a format
I wouldn't be writing creatively
That's why I write freestyle

If anyone can understand the world of restrictions
It was me when I was a teen
I couldn't get away
And I hated it

Bu then poetry came along
And told me everything was okay
That there weren't rules
If I didn't want there to be any

But people started shoving formats in my face
Telling me that I should write this
But I didn't want to
So I didn't

I sat there on my computer,
And reveled in the fact that my freedom was in words
And that I didn't have to have rules
But even that was short-lived

Don't tell young artists
That they should do something different
Because you can't put a price on art
And you can't tell them what isn't art
And what is

I'm seeing clearly
Through the tears
Because what I need to see
Is something to do
Something to write
And so far I haven't found it
Behind these sleepless eyes
Because I am too tired
To deal with anything
Other than my drooping lids
And my tear crusted face
But other than that
Life is just great

The counted down when I would find my soul mate
It told me I would find him
When I found him
But now I am with him
And he's been treating me pretty bad
And he'***** me more than once
Told me he was sorry
When everything was worse

But these punches were mental
And the pain was "all in my head"
But I knew that more was happening
Than anyone could know
Because this was abuse, and I knew it
I've been living away from home
Because when your home is your mind
And it's being hurt,
You have to move out

And that's what I did
This is where my clock lead me
Into the rabbit hole
And nothing has been the same since

Looters break down the doors
Of I shop owners
And expect that this will help
I am too tired to say
That this is unnecessary
This is not a fiction book
And we can't destroy the country
That we are trying to fix
This all needs to be organized
And systematic
Because that is how we get the people
Who really are the bad guys
We dig deep and find who they are
Then we find out how to take them down

When we are aiming for equality
And people really need it
Should we start pointing out the difference?
Why don't the signs say, "Lives Matter!"
Instead of something so specific.

The thing is, we are equal as humankind
But we are each so unique
So can we ever really achieve
This amazing thing called equality?

Crystalline eyes
Clear as water
Clouded by drugs
Not knowing who she loves

**** turned into *******
And ******* into LSD
LSD into ****
And those crystalline eyes
Turned into methamphetamines

Crystalline eyes
Staring through me
Turned into rocks
Shrouded by a fog of misery

Why did she want to be
So crystalline?

There are so many rules for poems
A sonnet must be 14 lines
With iambic pentameter
If you write Shakespearean
And I forget how to write Petrarchan
Buy all I know is the rules

Then there are haikus
Made to be simple and short
But I can never get the right syllable count
So what am I to do?

Then there is the exphrastic poems
Which I don't know how to describe
Other than they describe art
And I simply cannot

There are so many rules to the write
I don't know what is right anymore

What is a hiaku
But a poem for nature and you
Tell me, illuminate

C rying all the night through

R inging our the pillow case

Y ou haven't come home yet

I doubt that it with ever happen

N ever felt like this before

G o away. I know of you lies

I carry the last name
Of a man who violated me
They didn't change my name
Because I was too young
To speak the truth
About what happened to me

But when you're three
And you're talking about things
You don't learn about until you're 11
People should believe you, right?

The court smiles at me, a menacing grin
As they tell me 'you're ****** for sure'
And then they walk away
Satisfied with their case

And here I am now
Writing that name on papers
Because they need my last name
But I don't belong to that name
Not does it belong to me

You can't hold me hostage with your name
You can't tell me that I'm crazy
That I'm lost my head
But what you can do is **** right off
And take your name with you

I hate this last name
That I have for the rest if my life
I hate this name you gave me
Along with your abuse

Writing with disgust
Everytime I write that stupid
Last name
Your name

Respect existence
Or expect resistance

Why shouldn't we stand up?
We're people just like you!

Some days I want to cry for all the women and PEOPLE who were violated
And I want to scream at all the people who didn't stand up for them

Respect me as a person
And I'll treat you like a friend

Don't expect respect
If you don't treat me the same

All are equally
Equal to each other

Skin color doesn't determine who you are
YOU determine which you are

Act like a resectable human
Not like an authority who has "every rite"

Abortion isn't for everyone
It's like children

"He was laughing at me
While I got the husband stitch
When the doctor said 'I'll stitch her up nice and tight for YOU' "

I'm done doing things for people
Who do nothing for me

Soft high voice
Embodiment of childish I
He reminds me of when I was happy
That's why I like him
He reminds me if young innocence
That was so long ago lost

Somewhere out there
On the internet so vast
Is a secret society of poets
Who in their works bask

Somewhere out there
Is hidden from the world
A little site of rebels
That walk a path all their own

The title of the page is unknown
Even to the poets who've been there for eons
Hidden in the lesser clicked pages
The poets hide in their secret society

They all click on the link once a month
To tell each other of all their poems they wrote
Then when the day is done
And each is logged off
The secret site disappears again
The society lost

Somewhere out there
Is a secret society
Of poets just like us
With disappearing links
And words like a gun

No one wants to hear the truth
About the people behind the words

The singers who hide themselves
Amongst their guided armor of hurt

The poets whose pain drips from their pen
Their everlasting sword

The writers whose stories are
Really not that fake

Tell me when you want to hear the truth
I will speak it to your face

Instead of talking behind your back
Instead of making your heart ache

Don't tell me all the things I want to hear
Because the only thing that I want to hear

Is the truth from your very lips

I want a nice boy who writes
Because he'll understand
Why I have this search history

I want a nice boy who writes
Because he'll have answers to all my questions

I want a nice boy who writes
Because he'll understand me

I want a nice boy who writes
Because he'll watch me finish my book
And read it with pride

I want a nice boy who writes
And tells me all the best obscure
Internet cafe

I want a nice boy who writes
Because for once someone
Will understand my mind

Who am I to say
That this *****
That I am lost on a road
Destined to not come back

Who am I to say
That life isn't fair
And that I am just a victim
And everything is worthless
Including me

Who am I to say
That nothing is quite right
In this world of wrongs
That keeps spinning for no reason at all

Tell me that I am crazy
Just like you tell everyone else
You didn't understand
Just like you tell me
When you know that I am right

But who am it to say
That I'm right
Who am I to say
That this is the right
That I am not okay

Who am I to say
What I already know

People know how to hurt
But not how to recover
All they seem to do
Is hide under the covers

But one day
When it is all too much
They'll find a way to **** it up
And say that life is good
And all the bad things that happened
Happened under dark hood

Nobody is out to get you
Life is never fair
And one day you'll realize
There was so much more there
Than the bad things
The things you thought unkind
Someday you'll find out
That life is really quite nice

What is fame
But an excuse
To live on *******
Women
And whatever else you please
Depression
The pressure to please

Sure, everyone loves you
But you know they don't know you
And you're too high
To notice the people who do

Have fun on your next trip
You're flying high now
Life is pretty great
As long as you can't see straight
You love it like that
Life through a color-blurred film

What is fame
But to hate yourself
And hate life
And say nothing about it

Someday if you're lucky
You will find help
But for now,
You will just enjoy the next sip
The next lover
The next hit
The next lie

He had started using
When he was far too young
He was only a child then,
A child without love
His father had abandoned him
When really it was his mother
His father only left
Because he was being smothered

Later in the years,
He turned really bad
Getting on heavier hitting drugs
Until there was no pain to be had
He sulked and glowered,
Acted until he got his way
Now, he can't be numb
There is far too much pain

He hasn't come out of his room for months
He dropped 38 pounds
Because he wasn't loved
The boy now had a grey pallor
Sunken eyes
And a wilted smile
He has given up,
And he's is only 15
Too young to die

Why do we let rough love
Into our lives
Just laugh when it's a person we know
A person who we love

Why do we see people with bruises
And just walk by
Not think about them
For the rest of our loving day?

When your sister wears big sunglasses
And your brother wears long sleeves
When your mother starts smoking
To dull the pain
Why do we walk away?
Why do we shut them out
Because the abusers
Are "good people"
And the abused "must have done something wrong"

So tell me,
Why the hell do we accept
"Rough love?"

Am I too strong
To need a person to lean on?
Am I too strong
For people to love me?
I am too strong?

What if I just need something
What if I just want to let it out?
Would you think that I was strange?
Would you think I am irregular,
That I need to man up
Just like I always do?

Am I too strong?
Do people not see that I am human
Like everyone else?
Why do people think
That I am strong
When in reality, I am not.

Thank you for liking my poem
Thank you for saying that I'm good
Thanks for all you have done
When no one else has done anything for me before
Thanks
Is all I have to say

**** is the only crime
That saying you "couldn't resist"
Is a defense
Whereas for other crimes
That is a confession

Stop saying you can't resist
Because you can
And not doing something
Is easier than doing it

People don't **** outfits
People **** people
Don't say she was asking for it
No one asks to be violated

No one

And everyone can resist

It's

So

*******

Easy

Become the character
That you write
Lose your reality
A little more
Every night
I am tired of this dullness
Give me an adventure
Let me become the character
That I have worked on so hard
To write

Don't tell me
That I don't know what it feels like
To stress

Don't tell me that I am too young
To understand

I am tired
Of being told
That I don't know

Please tell me that I am smart
Ask me to talk

Don't tell me
That I am things I am not

She won't say no
Never has
She lets people into her life
A life they haven't let her begin
She is living a lie
Just trying to please herself
I am tired of this nonsense
I can't help it anymore

I want her to know
How to empathize
When all she does is yell at me
And tell me that I can't understand
When all I have done
Is been too old for my body
And slaving away like an adult
The only difference is that I
Don't have a job

She likes to tell me
That I am just young
To enjoy while I still can
What she doesn't understand
Is that youth doesn't mean much now
That youth is just something
Meant to bring you down
I have never been young.
I have lived all my life
Like I am ten years older than my age
Right now,
I am 40,
And I am handling your ****

She is 70 with a lot on her mind
She is 70, and one of a kind
But recently, she's been acting
Like she is 5
Holding everything in
And coping with bad jokes
And relying on other people
To do the most basic of tasks
She 70 years old
Acting like she's five
She wants to antagonize
And act like she's 2
She wants her bottle
Or at least to annoy you
She's 70 years old
And acting like she's five

I want to shift the blame to anyone
The people around me who ******* up
The idiots who made Covid-19
The people who won't let us out of our lease
The ***** who can't keep money in the bank
And the woman who loves him
I want to blame this
On people I know
On people that I used to love
I want to blame this
On people that have ******* up
But really this is just life
So I need to keep my mouth shut
And stare down at the ground
Because this is life
And I can't blame shift
Because that is just a lie.

I feel like a light bulb
Trapped in a lampshade
I am unable to shine
At my full potential
I am just glowing
A dull useless hue of gray
That is all people ever see
Please, remove my lampshade
Let me shine

Blues and greens
Soft and hard,
cold and warm
Brightly gleaming
Looking pretty
They are so cold
Just like winter
Making skin look pale
And snow every whiter
Blues and greens
Obsession like fire

Thrown away
When you are done
I'm tired
Of being disposable

"I'm not trying to play the victim,"
she said to her mother.
"I know, you never have." her mother said back
But my question is
Why didn't she play a victim
When we needed it
Why didn't she play the victim
When we couldn't pay the rent?
Why didn't she play the victim
When we couldn't get out of the lease?
Why didn't she play the victim
All those times
When we need her
To play the role?

I packed everything up
walked away with my head down
I wasn't done living
I wasn't ready to leave

all my friends waved goodbye
they all wished me luck
they'll never know how much I love them
how much they meant

the tires move softly on the road
that is never-ending
until potholes dip down
and are jolting

life is hard
and I'm tired of moving on

maybe it was supposed to be this way
maybe I was supposed to leave

but right now I'm tired
and I want to go to sleep,
so don't make me move on
I'm not ready

my eyes are bleeding
red dots fill my sclera
my cornea is bruised
from seeing all this chaos

my iris is small
and my pupil big
from all the darkness
in which I had to live

I am sorry to everyone
whose life I have darkened
but will you please stop darkening mine
it's just not fair.

Please stop making my eyes bleed
it hurts too much to stand
I cannot live this way
my life is out of command

please let my eyes take a break
from the screen
please

I want a rest
to not be imprisoned
behind my eyes
because the world has been harsh
and there is so much punishment
for being who you are

let my bleeding eyes rest