I wish we had stayed in touch
I wish we still talked,
Even as friends

I want to know how your day went
I want your advice on so many issues
You always gave good advice

I want to have someone who supports me
No matter what

Like you once did

I wish you still noticed me

How fitting, it must be
That Athena,
Goddess of Wisdom,
Was borne straight out
Of her father's head!
Conceived by mere thoughts
Conceived by the
Notion of thinking wisely
I am agape,
I am aghast
How could such a meathead
Like Zeus
Create such an intelligent goddess?
And the question that has
Plagued me for many years.....
Does she have a belly button?

i get so lonely sometimes
like i’m the only person alive
in this ******* hellish universe

maybe that’s why i am
so ******* obsessed with love

i crave intimacy,
i crave not being alone
i crave being bigger than myself

i crave the feeling of being two halves to one soul

i crave gorgeous people
writing gorgeous love poems
just for me

i crave being the center of someone’s universe
and gaining a whole new center for myself

maybe i just need a friend right now
maybe i don’t need to fall in love
like i do every other day of the week

i just want to feel like
i’m not talking to a blank screen
every time i write

you forget that
in breaking up
you don't just lose someone you love

you lose your best friend too

dragging myself down black and white sidewalks,
under a cloudy, black and white sky,
wearing ragged, black and white clothes,
next to globs of faceless, black and white people,
clutching my soulless, black and white heart
and wishing for a whisper
of the colorful, beautiful,
definitely not black and white,
world that you gave me

when i gazed upon
your handsome profile, i was
blown by the beauty

He told me I was beautiful,
And I constantly held it against him

You're beautiful
You're beautiful
You're beautiful
You're beautiful

He'd repeat it over and over

As if I'd finally believe it
If only I heard it one more time

I know I'm not beautiful

I have crooked teeth
And frizzy hair
And a splotchy face
And big round dork glasses
And a less than perfect body
And a too big heart

I know I'm not beautiful

But, around him,
I was ******* radiant

I'll never be truly beautiful,
I know that for a fact

And he always rubbed it in my face
With his constant lies

But I was radiant,
And that felt like flying,
And I'll never feel radiant again,
Because he'll  never talk to me again

Because he'll never love me again

Because we were so far apart that our love was stretched across the country like thin cloth and it ripped one day and I told you we could sew it but you wouldn't. You wouldn't allow me to sew us back together, and I'm here and you're there and we're still far and far apart and I'm still in love with you and you've still moved on.

surround myself in books,
build a tower out of pages,
fill a sea with streams of words,

cover the world in heaps of pictures,
tie a bow with ribbons of authors' names,
make perfumes of papery aromas,

fly on wings of similes and metaphors,
traipse across mountains of dialect and tone,
wade through pools of shallow symbolism,

eat, sleep, breathe,
and be

books

i have to try to write
shorter and shorter pieces

one word,
maybe two,
no more than three

short, sweet,
and to the point

they tell me i gotta work on brevity

yet i am too much in love
with the fluff and feel
of words on my tongue

i just can't stop

blood
lots of it
shooting down
from the sky
the blood
of brothers
of neighbors
of two sides
pitted against
one another
so much blood
i think i just
might drown
in all of the
sticky
warm
crimson
fluid
gushing from
every orifice
mixing
in a whirl
of DNA
who knows why
maybe it was because
they were
so much closer
it could have been
new technology
or old medicine
but what i do know is
that those years
caused more than
just bloodshed
they ripped
our land
to shreds
and from the
blood-soaked soil
flowers bloomed
and everything was
normal again
except for the fact
that each and every
flower
grew to be
a heavy blood-red
to remind us
of the people
we ravaged
so i guess
it really wasn't
okay
after all

Clutching the cool, sharp blade
Hovering above my arm
I'm scared
Dipping the tip, slowly
Slicing my delicate skin
Dragging it across my arm
Making little tic marks
One for every wrong I've ever done
Broke his heart
Check
Betrayed my friend
Check
Wincing at the immediate pain of
Flowing plasma,
Dripping onto the floor
Quenching the wound
I want to just let it go
Let it flow
Out of me
Steadily dripping,
Always dripping

dead
dead
dead
dead
dead
dead

d
e
a
d

they're all dead
and i'm still here

and no one knows why

people are always trying to tell me what love is

they say love is commitment
in the way a person is willing to share their entire life with you

they say love is passion
in the way a person acts so intensely and spontaneously

they say love is destiny
in the way two people are simply meant to be

yet,
i am astonished as to how people
can define love in so little words

**** brevity

love deserves a never-ending flourish of beauty

love deserves a waterfall of
arresting, lengthy, one-million-dollar words

i feel love in the way
the stars twinkle
and comets zoom
as he holds my hand and lays on his back

i feel love in the way
the ocean crashes
and the sun soaks into my skin
on a particularly wonderful beach day

i feel love in the way
my best friend cares for me
how she brings me cookie dough
at the best and worst times

i feel love in the way
he talks to me,

in the way he messes with me,
teases me,
indulges me

i feel love in the way
his crystal blue eyes
shine with joy and pride
when i save a ball
or ace an interview

i feel love in all the people around me

i feel love through my friends, family, and peers

i feel loved

and that feeling cannot be defined by one single word or even a sentence.

Sometimes I wonder
If you really do remember me
Remember the beautiful poems you once wrote me
I thought they were so special
I thought we were so special

I know it might be weird
Or cheesy
But I still think of you
Its been 2 years now and
The only way I know how you're doing
Is by reading your forever cryptic verse
On a flat screen

Sometimes I wonder if you miss me
Like I miss you

If you wish things could have ended differently
Like I wish most days

I wish I wasn't so mad at you at the time
I wish we could have at least stayed friends

Poetfreaks gotta stick together

You were once my best friend and confidant
And now I barely know you

Sometimes I wonder if it was all a dream

Sometimes I remember that I thought
You were the love of my life

Sometimes I wonder if I still love you

You're the one that got away,
But your poetry's giving me deja vu

why is it doctors
who must only swear
to do no harm

it seems to me
that we should all
live like doctors

working to heal hearts
instead of savagely breaking them

working to save people
instead of sending them
into a never ending spiral of depression

working to do as little harm as possible


maybe if you lived like a doctor
we would be together right now

it's the end of the world,
my friends.

the sky is falling,
the ground is shaking.

the entire earth is
spinning and rocketing,
twirling out of control
around its wobbly axis.

of course,
gravity's long gone,
and we're all just
floating around.

the sun's getting closer
by the hour,
burning holes in mountains
and evaporating oceans.

what's going to **** you?

a new disease,
a bout of heatstroke,
a boulder flying toward you at insane speeds?

another person?

the absence of another person?
your own boredom drilling its way through your head?

your loneliness?

your regrets?

what's going to **** you?

looking up into the stars,
only to see your own
sad, short lifetime
of accomplishments and inactions
spelt out in the gaseous twinkly orbs?

what's going to **** you?

i'm good at hiding my emotions

keeping a straight face,

crushing my sadness,
disguising my longing,
pushing away my anger,

silent and strong
as a corpse

corpse nose
corpse lips
corpse hair
corpse arms
corpse legs
corpse heart

but do you know what reveals me every time?

human eyes









do you want to know why i never look you in the eyes?

its because, if i do,
you'll see just how ******* much
i love you


you'll see just how much
i can't hide

I know a rather eager girl named Grace,
Who falls in love at a very fast pace.
When a guy says hello,
Just watch Grace go,
And see her fall right onto her face!

whenever i'm sad,
poetry always brings me up

yet, reading your poetry
never fails to shoot me down

i find it funny
that none of you will remember me
as more than a girl
who writes ****** poetry
to people who never answer back

fullest bookshelves you will ever see
soft hazel eyes hiding behind stiff blue frames
loads of pillows and fuzzy warm blankets
reading poetry in secret nooks and crannies
curly all-over-the-place cascading brown locks
dancing in the early springtime drizzles
movies with huge tubs of butter-drenched popcorn
laying in the lush grass, fingers stretching for the clouds
pens tucked behind ears, in coat sleeves, and on window sills
raspy, off-key, unabashed shower singing
friday night new netflix show marathon
awkward attempts at kind-of-sort-of flirting
secret stash of every single type of chocolate
complete list of the world's cheesiest pickup lines
bottom lip biting in intense concentration
well-worn copies of shakespeare's best plays
mindlessly wandering streets for hours on end
love songs, romantic surprises, that one perfect sonnet

good god, good girl

you call yourself a friend
but you've got a collection of knives
you contemplate each day
hmm which should i use this time?
how about the steal her boyfriend blade,
thats quite a lethal one
or maybe i'll use the
gossip about her *** life knife
that always seems to shut her up
ooh i know the one
its perfect, really,
i call it the
act like everything's fine machete
one stab
and its all it takes
for her whole foundation
to crumble to the ground

i hate it
when people tell me
that they do not support gay rights

they forwardly tell me,
a queer as hell person,
that they can't approve of my sexuality

you know,
cause of their religion,
"men shall not lay with men"
and all that jazz

or just cause the thought
of me making out with anyone but a cisgender guy
is absolutely repulsive and an abomination

and what about the kids?
what will they say when they see me
in public holding hands with an androgynous, non-binary person
who is obviously not a cisgender guy?

they tell me that being with someone i love
is confusing to children
and that i'm trying to push my sexuality onto them

sometimes i think they imagine me
going up to random little kids
and shaking them up and down
shouting "be gay already!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

there's so much more you should be worrying about
than me turning your kid queer

in fact,
there's so much more you should worry about
than who i want to be with

how about making sure your kid
doesn't turn into a closed minded *******
like you?

I don't want to hurt you
I never did
You may have broken my heart,
Smashed it to smithereens,
Thrown my delicate, glass heart
Against the cold, hard, concrete floor
But that doesn't make me
Want to break yours
Not at all
I slowly placed it
On a fluffy, goose-down pillow
Just waiting for the right girl
To come along and pick it up
I hope she carries it well
I hope you won't see me
Kneeling on the floor,
Hands bloodied,
Trying to pick up the broken shards
Of my glass heart

I'm not a good dancer
Sure, I can write a waltz
I can record the movements in a million ways

The guy,
In a fancy tuxedo
Smile wide as ever on his face

The girl,
In a strapless dress
Maybe it's white

The guy,
With his one hand
On her delicate waist,
The other
Holding her hand,
Keeping her anchored and safe

The girl,
With her one hand
On his strong shoulder,
The other
Holding his hand,
Relying on him to lead

The guy,
Feet moving in time

The girl,
Feet moving time

The guy,
Raising his arm
For a graceful spin

The girl,
Allowing herself
To be turned and rotated

The guy,
Passion in his eyes
An ever-growing love

The girl,
Kindness in her eyes
An ever-growing devotion

The guy,
Bringing her down
For a spectacular dip

The girl,
Scared to death
He's going to drop her
But knowing all the same
He won't let her fall

The guy,
Slowly lowering his lips

The girl,
Smiling and kissing him

They were finally happy

I can't dance
I know every move,
Every feeling
But, when I get on that floor,
I just get clumsy

It's too bad, really
Because I would have liked
For that to be you and I
Someday

people are so beautiful

people with long hair
people with short hair

people with green eyes
blue eyes
brown eyes
hazel eyes

people with wide smiles
people with quick, fleeting grins

people with curves
people without

tall people
short people

people with tattoos
people with piercings
people with dyed hair
people who express themselves in every single way they can

people who love clothes
people who just want to take them off

people who can do math in their head
people who can paint pictures in their sleep

people who love freely and openly

girl
boy
neither
both
all
none
yes
no
maybe

how can you decide
when they're all so beautiful?

there is no better sound
to my waiting ears
than the sweet caress
of an
i love you
sure, craft your
exquisite love poems
romance me with
grand flourishes
of word choice
and rhyme scheme
write me a sonnet,
if you'd like
but nothing is as
sweet
caring
and true
as a simple
i love you

i'm in love with a girl
with short, floppy blonde hair,
long, slender limbs,
shining, happy eyes,
and the most genuine smile ever

i'm in love with a girl
who makes everyone feel welcome,
who isn't afraid to speak her mind,
who fights for what she believes in,
who respects all opinions regardless

i'm in love with a girl
who is a geek in all respects,
who binge-watches grey's anatomy like crazy,
who plays pokemon every chance she gets

i'm in love with a girl
who already has a girlfriend

and that's the worst part.

so he broke up with me today

messaged me,
in the ******* chat feature of snapchat

and said

"hey were done"

never mind that atrocious grammar,
or the fact that he couldn't even say it to my face,

but he didn't have the common decency
to say why he came to the decision

or even to put the littlest bit of emotion into it

i know this isn't even close to poetry guys
trust me, it was never poetry with us two

why do i do this to myself
time and time again

why do i expect to have a fairytale love story

when the truth is i can't fall in love
and make the same person fall for me

to save my ******* life

some people find labels oppressing

straight
gay
cis
trans
black
hispanic
girl
boy
none of the above

even the absence of a label is a label itself

labels are things that corner you in,
limit you to one word,
a word in which you MUST fit the bounds

labels only exist for things we know about,
what if we don’t even have a word for it yet?
they’re limiting in this way too

yet,
i find that i enjoy labels

i enjoy labeling myself as a white, cisgender, pansexual girl

labels help me fit in
they help me to make sense of myself
and place myself in certain categories

labeling gender can be tough for some people
but i like identifying as a girl

labels can shut you in but they can also free you

free you from yourself
from the expectations of society
from embarrassment and dysphoria

i like labels
i don’t know about you
but they make life a whole lot easier for me

There’s this fatal flaw
I never want to let go
Years and years go by

blank page
blinking cursor

hmmmmmmmm

how do i put into words
how much i ******* love you?

gentle smiles
holding open the door
so many band shirts
craving his graphing calculator
extremely complicated physics
low smooth singing voice
curly hair i just want to touch
kind observant eyes
noticing everything (even the things i always try to hide)
asking me if i'm okay (he always knows when i lie)
insisting i'm pretty (especially when i'm down on myself)

(apparently, my romanticism is a turn off)
(i'd stop being a romantic for you)
(i'd do anything for you)
(if i could kiss you)

spring*
into march

one step closer
to flowers
and sunshine
and birds chirping
and pleasant breezes
and being able to wear short sleeves with no heavy coat
and feeling the soft grass through my flip flops
and easter candy
and spring break

one step closer
to memories of you and i
hand in hand
walking down a soft dirt lane
sun on our faces
the trees our only company

one step closer
to the recollection
of your strong arms
loosely wrapped
around my waist
as we bathed in  
the wonderful sunlight

in *spring

i've never understood why people seem to loathe poetry so terribly

in my classes,
both in high school and in college,
whenever we read a poem,
it was like the entire room
drooped with boredom
and all of my peers
seemed to heave a collective sigh,
all their happiness leaving in one, singular, breath

yet,
i, with brightened eyes and lips quick to read
no, not to read,
to gush
gorgeous lines of carefully written art

i blossomed like a sunflower in the morning rays,
eager to consume line after line,
stanza after stanza,
couplets, quartets, prose

for poetry is the beauty of the ages
contained in a single page of slanted text

there is nothing more beautiful than
"shall i compare thee to a summer's day?"

and there is nothing more profound than
"all that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream"

is there nothing simpler than
"two roads diverged in a yellow wood"?

and is there nothing more inspiring than
"still, like dust, i'll rise"?

funnily,
we seek in art what simple words cannot express,

we seek feelings that only the brushstrokes of picasso,
the chiseling of michelangelo,
and the notes of mozart can give us

we claim that language is limited
and that our true feelings cannot be defined
by our mere set of human terms

yet,
poetry creates words

poetry creates feeling

poets are the true artists because we can express feelings that you never could through the language you believe is so limited

poets spin words into carefully woven tapestries of emotion and history

poets will live on millions and millions of years forward

each and every time a student is forced to read
"the road not taken"
"the raven"
"caged bird"
"paul revere's ride"
"the tyger"

they extend poets' lives by millennia

humans have forever searched for the secret to immortality
and in their quest they have ignored the simplest cure of all,

the only way to remain alive is to be remembered

and the only way to be remembered is to be a poet

i'm sick of you telling me
that i am too old to do things

when was the last time
you danced in the pouring rain?

when was the last time
you jumped into a pile
of freshly raked leaves?

when was the last time
you built a sand castle,
or a sand mansion,
or even a sand hut?

when was the last time
you caught fireflies in jars
and watched them for hours
until their lights finally blinked out?

when was the last time
you just laid on the ground
and looked up at the clouds?

when was the last time
you gave off-key shower concerts
to an audience of no one,
using the bar of soap as a microphone?

when was the last time
you sat over a raging bonfire
and roasted every last marshmallow?

when was the last time
you made a plush fort
out of couch cushions, pillows, and blankets?

when was the last time
you told scary stories
over the fluorescent beam of a flashlight?

when was the last time
you stomped and splashed
in every puddle you could find?

when was the last time
you had pure, real fun
without a care in the world?

Oh, you poor little z,
you always cry, "no one uses me!"
Oh you poor little thing,
they only use you in zebra or zing!

In hangman, you are never a letter,
the smartest kids know that "a" is much better.
In word searches you are always ignored,
we know they wrote you in when they were bored.

Only in Scrabble are you the king
10 points to a player is what you'll bring!
So, don't despair, my little z,
You're always worth 10 points to me.

i suppose i'm lucky

i have wonderful, supportive parents
i have a community of scattered friends who are all just like me
i'm not getting kicked out of my house
i'm not getting death threats

i can come out
hell, i've come out to a lot of people

yet,
i still feel trapped

whenever i come out

and most people don't understand
that i have to come out almost every day

whenever i come out
i need to explain myself

pan? how's that different than bi?

it's very different, but people feel the need to tell me
just how invalid my orientation is

and then i'm caught in a very complex gender debate
with a person who thinks its merely as simple as
** and XY

pan? they don't even know what pan means

and they judge me
they judge and judge and judge

people i've known for my entire life,
my chosen family,
they judge too

my brother?
my twin brother?
he judges too

and all of you?
do you ever wonder why i never write
just one of my cheesy love poems about a girl?
or a non-binary crush?

no, you don't wonder
you assumed i was straight

and i don't blame you  

i thought you would judge too

why do i have this feeling
like everything was so much easier
and so much simpler
back when we were on poetfreak

to all my

gay,
lesbian,
bi,
pan,
ace,
trans,
queer,
questioning,
aro,
demi,
trans,
gender fluid,
non binary

family

i want to wish you all a happy june

whether you're in the closet,
or fully out and about,
or somewhere in the blurry middle,

know that you are loved
and i am proud of every single one of you

i am proud to say that i share a community
with so many beautiful, diverse, amazing people

i am proud of the strides we have made
and the people striving to make even more

this month,
just like every month,
i am proud of all of us

and i suppose,
that's what pride is all about

rain, rain
go away

and as you go,
will you wash away
all my insecurities too?

you once told me
that first loves don't really go away

you were talking about your ex
an amazing girl, from what you've told me

first love doesn't just disappear
it fades and it lingers,
but it doesn't leave,
you said

you were talking about her
but i was thinking about you

i love you so much it hurts sometimes

scratch that,
it hurts most of the time

i think about how much i deeply love you,
how much i love to just be in your presence
how every moment with you is the happiest of my life
and every moment spent without you
could have been vastly improved by your presence

i think about our your cute jokes,
how you always make fun of me
but in the sweetest way possible

and you give me that smile that says
"i'm insulting you but neither you nor i care about it
because we're too close for you to be bothered
and you know i'd never want to hurt you"

that secret smile

that secret laugh
when you make when you know
you've taken a joke
just a little bit
too far

but you know i'll never care
because any word out of your mouth
is unoffensive to me

i think about the nicknames you give me
the sound and lilt of your voice
when you pick up the phone

"hey, chief,"
you say softly,
"what's up?"

i think about
the lazy, lazy circles
you talk around me

when we're alone,
conversation inevitably turns to
deep, never-before-said-aloud confessions

how odd
that the conversation inevitably turns to
love

your first love,
my first love

of course,
i never give specifics

you can never know that
my heart throbbing, amazing, out-of-my-league
first love
is, simply,
you

i think about how handsome you are

your crazy unique bright blonde hair
so curly swirly hypnotizing perfection

your bright bright blue eyes
atlantic ocean blue
a twisting, turning, turbulent stormy blue

your mischief
it's expressed in every area of your body
in every motion you make
like how,
when you sit down,
you're always leaning back in your chair
poised to fall

yet never,
as long as i've known you,
have you ever
touched the ground

i think about your intelligence,
you're the only person who can talk to me
about politics,
science,
literature,
or any other topic
in an enriching way

you're so much smarter than me
and i adore every second of it

your articulation,
the way you turn thoughts
into beautiful webs of words,
it's mesmerizing

i think i love you so much
that i overlook
all of your flaws

like how you are supremely superficial
like how you treat girls
as if they exist
for your viewing pleasure

i have this feeling like
our personalities are the most compatible
in this entire universe

but you'll never even see me
in a romantic way
because i'm not pretty
not in your eyes
not even close to it

we'll be talking about a girl
a fairly pretty girl
and you'll say she's ugly

and i'll just think
if she's ugly to you,
do i ever want to know what you think about me?

i feel bad about myself,
partly,
because of you

because i try to see myself
through your critical gaze
and all i see is a chubby, acne-ridden,
ugly girl

the worst part is that
you'll never, ever love me back
the way i love you

and this is,
in part,
because of how i look

you'll never see me as
****
attractive
hot

i'll never even appear to be
"girlfriend material"
because i'm not pretty to you

i'm friend material
sister material, even

and that's why it hurts so much to love you

it hurts my heart
and there's nothing i can do about it
because you are my best friend
and i see you every single day

and every single day i'm reminded both
of how i can never, ever have you
and how much i really, really want you

sometimes,
at night,
when i lay on
the soft grass carpet
and turn my face
to the blinking, twinkling stars,

i forget,
for just a fleeting moment,
all about you

in a split second,
the flap of a wing,
the blink of an eye,

i live in a world
where my heart
has not been
smashed to pieces
by your swinging baseball bat

i live in a world
where i'm still
that young, naive girl
with romantic dreams of love

i live in a world
where you never even existed

i feast my eyes
on the wobbly constellations,
the bulls and lions and fish,

and every single painful scar
just
falls
away

I'm no fortune teller
I can't tell prophecies from tarot cards
Or your eventual fate from your birthday

But I'm smart enough to know
You didn't consider me
A part of your future

i think that it is fair to say
we all have one that got away

things didn't work out between us two
the timing was off, i think we both knew

wanting to deny everything that was wrong
cause i loved you so much and i thought we were strong

then you broke it off, and i didn't want to agree
how could i see you with anyone but me?

still hung up on you, on your name and your face,
that haunts me and devours all my headspace

but the worst thing of all is that i see signs
of love for a girl just like me in your lines

a girl that you treasure from the bottom of your heart,
a girl whose face looks to you just like art

a girl who came in at just the right time
a girl who didn't have problems like mine

a girl who should hang on to you very tight
and never let you leave without a fight

she should do everything she can to make you stay
cause god forbid you'd be another one that got away

ghosts
no, they're not white
or like anything
you think they are
and yet,
you see them all the time
in restaurants
on buses
walking down the street
shells of people
alive
but not really
moving in circles
day after day
those vacant stares
slack jaws
unshaven faces
mismatched socks
still don't think you know a ghost?
then you very well may be one.

I had stepped out of the local Starbucks today
To see several hot guys walking my way
Had to smother my dread
When I saw the third's head
Since he was sporting a man bun that was way too cliche

"hope is the thing with feathers"

in the way you make me feel
like i could rise above this earth
and launch myself into the stratosphere

in the way you make my heart
flutter and patter
and wiggle around in my chest

in the way you send
sensations up and down my whole body
straight through my extremities

"hope is the thing with feathers"

when you so much as look at me
and i cannot help but feel
the unmistakable ruffling
of the thing with feathers