You cannot draw me
Can't properly express me in words
You want to write me down
Try to convey your hurt
But you cannot do so
When words cannot rightfully tell
What you've been through
If you've been through hell

You cannot draw an emotion
Even if you can bend it to your will
You can, however, bleed it dry
And let the overflow spill
Into your poems with intentions unknown
And hope for the best of luck
When everything is gone
And you've got nothing left

Emotion is hard to see
To the untrained eye
But those who have seen the deepest depths
Know when others are about to cry

and here i am again
running to this website
to cower behind a screen
and try to make people feel like they're actually needed
hoping that for once,
my pathetic existence meant something to someone
that they can read my poem and know that
you're not alone
in feeling like you're unwanted
like you could exit this earth stage left
and no one would care
you're not alone in feeling like a burden
or a phase for someone to grow out of,
someone else has been there.
so here i am
again
cowering behind a screen
thinking to myself
if only i could make a difference
if only i could save a life
if only my words could have so much meaning to someone somewhere
that i might just be part of the reason they didn't die
part of the reason they feel loved
or understood
because the world is a cruel place
people don't play by the rules

and usually someone winds up getting hurt
not you darling
not  today.

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

To be freed
Is to feed
Lies to everyone
That walks this earth
And smiles when it rains
To be freed,
****, I'd rather feel pain
Freedom is a thing
Sure it is.
But as long as your living on this Earth
You might as well be in prison

To be freed
Yeah, right
We all have this greed
That will keep us from freedom
And this greed keeps us from the night
Where when we wake
Things will rejuvenate
But do any of us
Really believe in true revival,
When we have lost so many
To survival?
All I'm saying,
Is that the point of living
Is to survive
And not to live
This freedom isn't freedom
This "freedom" is jail

I am tired of being defined by numbers
How many likes you get on this,
How many followers do you have on that,
What is your weight?
Are you considered fat?
Numbers that rank me
Am I good in math?
No, sadly I have failed that class,
Along with every other class that year,
If I told you how many, you would laugh and jeer
But this is not a joke
No, it most certainly is not
I am tired of being defined by numbers
And always being asked how much

What is this feeling?
This anxiety about everything
Makes me feel so sick
I can't eat without regretting it
Without wanting to gag
I haven't slept eight collective hours
Within the last three days
I don't know what's happening to me
But I hate it
With all of me
I hate that I can't make it go away
Just by deep breathing and being mindful
That it keeps breaking into my thoughts
I keep trying to blame it on you
But I don't think it is
I think all of the years feelings
All of the ones I pushed aside so I could feel them later
I think they all chose now
To freak out
And make me hurt
And this beast the keeps producing the butterflies in my stomach
It isn't you or me,
It's just all of those things
That I didn't want in my life
Bringing me down

Anybody there?
I ask in my head,
Answered by silence
Something isn't right
There was always a voice
Telling me I'm a loser
Or something of the sort
But today there was no voice
Not even a whisper

I want my enemy back
I want her to tell me something bad
To feel something again
But when I ask if anyone is there
I am answered with a lack
Something missing
That will probably be back
Goodbye for now
My long lost friend
I'll ask later
Is anybody there?

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 ****

Bones rattle together
As the dead start to rise
As the population decreases
Secret have started to die
Until that one day
When secrets
Are no longer what they are
Secrets are an ever seething
White marble scars

I am tired
Of wanting to create a masterpiece
But not having enough energy to do it.
I feel bored
I want to do something
But when I get up
To create that beautiful masterpiece
I am drawn back by knowing I don't have the talent
And that whatever it is I make
Is never going to be seen
So I realize, what the hell is the point?
There isn't one, I know now
If no one sees what I make
There is nothing that I can do
To make it real
So I guess that I will never be seen
And my great masterpiece will never be revealed

i don't even think that i'm heart broken
i don't think that it hurts that much
i just feel something else inside that isn't okay
that isn't happy or light
it's like an infection running deep
heavily dragging at my heart
like stupidity and hopelessness
i'm trying to dream up a way
to make this hurt less
so far,
not much is working

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

Eyes don't lie
They tell the truth
The eyes
Betray the lie
That comes from the betrayers
Truth

But some people
Will never know
The difference between truth
And lie
Some people will only know
What hides behind your cold glass filled eyes

coping by not caring
by not eating anymore
taking away the things i need
like sleep and a peaceful mind
now everything around me is like a battlefield
a battlefield mind
and battlefield soul
and everything else is nothing
my aching stomach, just a side effect
my never-ending headache
well, it's always been there

finally
i'm writing on a computer
sharing all of my woes
and tired mind
and everything
with a world of poets that could care less
that could scroll without liking
without even reading it
without leaving a like
because my writing isn't worth another worthless click
on a stupid computer
just another passerby
on this web of lies
that has completely consumed my life

I can understand
That it might be strange
To write of green eyes and their depth
When really I know nothing of it
I was lost in golden eyes
And pretty smiles
Admiring your face when you didn't notice
I never really saw, did I?
Kind of ironic

Being exposed to trauma
Made me feel invalid
There are more than one
Identities within this body
But I am a broken bowl
Each shard is unique
And which one is the original?
There isn't one
And I will never integrate
Into one person,
A person like you

My young brain was only trying
To protect me,
But it felt like it was trying to end me

I am a rocky terrain
With no hospitality to human life
A vast desert too harsh
For life to prosper
Let alone survive
I am a river with
Rapids flowing white
Better to not look at me
For fear of being swept away
I am a sharp glass
With a beautiful edge
Leave me alone
I'm hazardous

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

ACHHHHHH!
Let me go, just let me be
Don't clutch me in your trap of poetry
I am tired of writing words
That don't have any meaning to me
I am tired of doing this
Just so I can get noticed
For me this isn't a hobby
This is something I want to do
For the rest of my years
I want to write away every little thing
Every tear, every fear
I am tired of writing for recognition
I am tired of not being able to get my book into the public
I am tired of not being able
To share what I want
I am tired of not being able to share my lovely books
I am tired of being trapped in recognition
I am just---- ACCCHHHHHHHH forever

soooo...
as much fun as it is
to break myself over and over again
I'll get extra critical
of the boy I want
making him no longer desirable
just about as much so as I am to him
soon I won't notice him
and I'll be able to ignore the texts
I'll make him so unworthy of everything that is me
and my chaotic being
sorry
I don't mean to
this is just my mind doing a poor job protecting me

Maintaining control
is the stage where the predator
will do anything to keep his victim
a victim
He sits on the couch
With his arm slung over you
His breath is sour with alcohol
And cruelty
Knowing that he has power over you
There will be no changing the story
The story that contains
Both you and him
Is not your and his story
It is only his, and it will only ever be his
Because of him, you have been completely and utterly
Diminished

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.

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

I've always hidden in the shadows
Casted by everyone I've ever known
But I've never casted a shadow for anyone
Not even to block my eyes their sun

maybe i should write about something they don't know about that much,
write about something that hurts me just the same
write about all of the pain i feel
when they tell me they understand
that someone finally knows about this body ruled by poor decisions and make shift tears
and feeling strange when another person looks at them
that wondering feeling
'will they ever understand me'
and crying when they do
that's what hurts most
is when they say they know how it feels
and they don't care that i feel that way
they still love me just the same
that, right there, is my breaking point

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

The shadows roll over me
Eat me alive
I let them because I know they are my friends
They hide me from society
The jungle of a community that we call the earth

I seek something dark in the middle of the day
Wishing you would just bring me inevitable pain
Seeking something dark
I'm hiding from you
Hiding from who you are

Seeking something dark
I let you overwhelm my pain
When you take over my brain
You leave me alone and unfeeling
Seeking something dark
Leave me alone in an unclear murk

The moon is dark
The sun is light
They bring us day
Followed by night
A time when everything is quiet
And still
When you can do anything you want
Of your own will
Moon brings us peace
Knowing that we have to face another day
Where the sun brings us time
Waiting for another night to go by
Sun means war upon my skin
Moon means the pleasant night is bound to begin
Calling all of my men
To come protect me from the sun
Blistered and scarred
Waiting for the night to start

I feel better now
Like I can live in my skin
I feel better with my soul
Less of a need to fit in
I think that I am beautiful
And for once in a very very long time
I don't feel fat
Even though I probably am
I just feel like I could go on existing
In this pale sack of skin
After all, what matters most
Is what happens to your soul
Your body is just a vehicle
Learn it from the best people,
Right?

So trust me when I say,
If you want to take this time to be better
If you want to improve
You've got my support
But you're already perfect
Pure and true

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?

All of the people around me want me to be happy
I can't say that I don't deserve it
But it certainly is hard to write it
I wanted to have full control
To have the reader in my grasp
I wanted to see them writhe with pain
That I will always have

I don't let go of my past
It will never truly fade
Even though I should let it go
I can never truly move on
Sometimes I just want other people to hear me out
To understand that I am who I am for a reason

I wanted to write a poem for happiness
But for me, I think that it can never truly be done

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

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

maybe there's something wrong
with the way i miss you
by the feelings in my heart
and maybe there's something wrong with the way
i feel nothing
when i should feel so much
when i feel something other than this nothingness
that lurks like a monster in my chest
this out-of-place feeling
that haunts me in my head
hopefully
it doesn't keep going on like this

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

how would you know
how close to my heart these words are
how would you know
that i no longer care
about what is wrong
and what i want
how would you know
that i am no longer a good version of myself
how would you know?
you wouldn't

Meaningless
It's a word I seem to use a lot
When thinking about my life
And all of the words that I have yet to write
Everything that I've said
Meaningless
All of the looks I get
And all of their smilings starting to fade
Maybe I am no longer the kind person
That I once thought I was
The person that I might have been
I don't help people anymore
Instead, I am just toxic
Leaching people out because
Isn't it all meaningless?

I've been dead for a while now
my body holding the crumpled black tar
leaking from my heart
my mind hides secrets
I never wanted to keep
never even wanted to hear in the first place
all of the lies people told
and others thought they were all true
maybe they're what killed me
the ache in my head
that can hurt me far too much
is a constant cacophony
someone is relentlessly playing
on a rusted trumpet of the apocalypse
I hope you know how much you hurt me
when you walked out that door
I hope it hurts you
to not even look back

it kills me when tears never spill
when that burning skin
starts to bother me
starts to feel like i should do something to tame it
it hurts
but i always stop
each time,
slightly more devoid of feeling
or at least the option to show it
maybe i shouldn't say sorry for the absence of feeling
maybe i should find a way to smile
but it's a lot easier to wallow
even if i know i shouldn't

maybe i shouldn't break myself over a boy again
maybe i shouldn't weep over the loss of something i never actually had
maybe this guy is bad for me
and he'll break me in half,
but at this point i could care less
all i know is that this is what i'm feeling
and what i'm feeling hurts so much
like sticking your heart in burning water
and hoping that it will still keep you alive
it might be cynical,
but to me,
it's the only feeling that seems right

No meaning
So many words
Trying to get more numbers
More people reading
I want people to see
What is really happening
To me
I want people to see that I am a person
A human being
I want people to see
That I am here, even if I feel like I am not
I want people to read my passion
I want them to read what I worked on
Every night
For my young life
I want people to see what they did to me

Without a title
Is not without meaning
So don't judge people of their title
Or lack thereof
Without a title
Is just not letting you know
What is hidden within
It's better that way
More mysterious

i don't know what i want from you
i don't know if my mind is strong enough to know
i guess i'll always be stuck in that permanent place
somewhere between hurting and feeling loved
something like i want to feel your hands brush my hair from my face
and wanting to cry into your shoulder from all of this pain
all of the confusion
maybe someday i'll understand what it is to feel
all i know right now
is that this feeling,
it isn't anything at all
bur a blur of nothing and somethings
like a painting that i completely messed up
and i hate that feeling so much

It's all black and white
They tell me inside my small little brain
Don't question anything*
They say quietly
But I don't want to fall asleep
I am too tired a soul
To go down this long and weary road
I don't want to do anything but write
But I cry too much to see the screen
I wish it was all black and white
But I can't accept that
There are too many grey areas
On to many things
*It's not all black and white *
A small voice finally says inside
*There is some brown too

sometimes I wonder if everything was just fine
would we still look at ****** the same way?
if we found a girl lying sleeplessly on the street
would we offer her a hand and be kindly
or would we just walk past saying to ourselves
that 'this is what they made it
everything is alright so she must be fine'
if we continued to say this would we lose sleep at night?
or would everything be okay
because everything was just fine

if someone came up to me
with slits on their wrists
and desperation in their eyes
would and turn them away and watch them cry
just because everything was supposed to be fine?
or would I sit down next to them and tell them to talk
ask them to tell their story even if it's done?
would I just say 'everything is peachy
I don't know what you'd want with marks on your wrist
when you could have used a gun'?
or would I say 'everything is okay'
as I brushed her hair from her face
and watched at the pain started to dissipate

what would I do if everything was fine???

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

If there were poisons that you had to drink with every grudge
I would be beyond dead
If there were knives that stuck into your soul with every tear
I would be a human porcupine quills made of steel
If there was a bullet hole for every worthless love
I would look like a mushroom without spores
If there was something for everything
I would be nothing

I just want to tell you
That being destroyed
Emotionally torn limb from limb,
Is what I do best
So don't say I didn't warn you
When you fall down with me

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

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