Anything can
look like a poem
and sound philosophical
simply by moving
the words on
different lines.

Am I doing it right?
Is this
really
talent?
Art?
Effort?

I think I am trying.
Really, I am
I go back and change the order
and I break lines
where it sounds right
But it does not take me long.
Not at all.

I try to be
intentional
and call it natural rhythm.
Instinct and style taking over
I alternate between
agonizing every detail
like When to Capitalize
and publishing free form poems without looking over them twice.

How is writing supposed to feel?
Should I labor?
or should it flow?
Or do I get to decide?

I think the things I talk of
mean something
at least.

But am I just
pretentious?

fooling myself into thinking that
using common poetry formats
somehow makes my work worthwhile?

We cannot write silence.
The beats.
The pause.
The breath.
The way it aches
and persists

and begs that,

if only for a moment,

our consciousness is only a whisper.
our bodies,
our lips,
the air that passes through falling chests
and stillness.

A melody of emotion.
Sleeping in the quiet of a heartbeat skipped
a word lost to the wind.

The wickedness of reticence
Encapsulated in air and time.

The moment stretched too long.
Hesitation perpetuated in the grip of fingernails
pressed into palms.

We cannot write silence,
but we can try.

to find a way to immortalize emotion
to create space
in the ceaseless drone of words that speak and spin.

I cannot write silence. But I can write
tears and years
and the burn of long-stretched lies.

I can write goodbyes and hellos
And dozen ways to say
I love to hate you
Or
I hate to love you
and sometimes
I cannot tell the difference.
Silence.
The space I have upheld for myself.

I love to hate you
Heart.

I hate to love you too.

I cannot write silence.
But I know it.
and I have held it in my hand.

brought bones to
a gun fight,
cartilage and
cartridges.
/
Does the rope
around my ankles
make me look fat?

I could tell you what is on my mind
That I'm worried and scared and anxious
That i really wish i was alone right now
But then I'd be naked.

I could tell you all my strengths and weaknesses
I could tell you that I'm afraid of the dark when i sleep so i turn on the lights
But i could tell you that I'm also afraid of the shadows and what lurks behind the curtains.
But that would make me naked.

I could tell you that i hate photographs
and photoshoots.
And that it hurts to pose.
For a picture
To be analysed by a glass lens
Only to have the best parts of my life
erased by an editing app
Because nobody wants to see scars on Instagram
I could tell you that it makes me sick
And that i wish people loved the real thing
But then I'd be naked

I could tell you that I'm living my dream at the expense of my mother's love
Her smile has become an eclipse
Rare and blinding.
Not mine to see, anymore
I miss her though she misses me too i know but I chose the devil in my head
But that would make me naked

You could tell me about that time last year
You couldn't get out of bed
When you wouldn't get out of bed
Because your heart felt like lead
When only your bed could hold you back
And your sheets could hug you better
And I'd understand because I've been there before
Because then you'd be naked

Without the clothes and baggage
That shame us into silence
The shoes of depression
that lead us into violence
suicidal thoughts just cause
We can't be honest
And don't have the courage to simply be naked.

Prefer the flimsy armor
Of "how are you's" and "i am fines"
Fearing to expose what lies under these
Clothes
Genuine interactions and intimate confessions

I am tired ...i am tired
Of these clothes
I want to be naked
Not behind closed doors
But right here
So should i start removing

Why do all colors have a description to them?

Red- For strength or anger
Yellow- For sunshine and happiness
Pink- For all girls
Blue- For the boys and for when you're sad
Black- For hate and fear
Purple- For luxury and ambition
Green- For nature and energy

We force people to be someone by giving them a label.
Should we do that to colors too?

Why should black be the evil one?
Why can't yellow be a way to express sadness?
Why is pink for girls?
Just why?

You asked me why I like you
But I didn’t want to tell
Some of my reasons are cheesy...
But here is why I fell

I love the way your lips curve
When I make you smile
It makes me want to pull you close
And kiss you for awhile

I love the way your eyes twinkle
When you talk about things you love
I truely believe
You are a gift from above

I love that you are compassionate
You have such a big heart
That was the first thing I noticed
Right from the start

I love the way it feels
When you hold me tight
I finally feel safe
Like I could sleep through the night

I love that you don’t judge me
For my less than perfect self
That is more attractive
Than any amount of wealth

There are so many more reasons
But I’ll start with just this few
Maybe someday
I’ll give this poem to you

:)