I've been neglecting my poetry,
Rather,
I've been neglecting my desire to write.
I'm not in so melancholy mindset,
Not being swallowed by my sullen thoughts.
I'm just at a point where I'm having, too much, fun.
I have had a zillion and three fleeting thoughts but that's neither here nor there.
What I'm saying is, hellopoetry, I'm doing okay.
So don't worry.

Once is fine enough for me
to clap and to laugh about it
but some things: never again.

Come and be my bright light
To illuminate my dark way
Grab my hand and run off with me
Tell me that you need me to stay.

And those little smirks you do still gets me
But not as hard and I guess that's a start

I have been so, so wrong about most everything. And I still am.

if i had the energy,
maybe i'd cry over the fact that
i can't get the words to flow in this paper,
this assignment, this tiny grade
swimming in a lifetime of letters and numbers
all meant to determine my worth.
if i still had the energy, the perfectionist
buried inside of me would kick in and critique
the work; it'd tear apart the letters and mangle them
until they came out sounding somewhat intelligent,
until everyone glosses over the fact that this
paper clearly has no point, no direction
(like my life)
and no energy leaping out to greet the reader,
a.k.a. my professor and literally
not another soul.
if i had the energy, i might care
that this reminds me a little too much of three years ago.
i might try and figure out what the **** to do
in order to make myself care.
then again, if i cared,
i wouldn't be in this position in the first place.
if i had the energy, i'd stop here
and fling myself off the roof - at least,
i would, if i didn't think dying would hurt
like hell and death wouldn't be terrifying as ****.
if i had the energy, maybe this paper would already
be finished, and i could be sleeping, instagramming,
living. but the energy and my soul are dried up,
and the words won't come,
and i keep clacking on these tired keys,
a desperate prisoner trapped in dizzying
whirlwind college days.

we find ourselves in words and phrases,
the moon consistently turning through its phases.
we live by the sun, love by the moon,
and each day i wish that i could see you soon.
under cloudy skies, my mood is weathered
and around your neck is a wreath spotted with heather.
and though distance is time and time an illusion,
you glance my way and i find my willpower in ruins.
at the end of the world, i'd lay by your side;
even if a comet came, and surely we would die.
regardless of the afterlife, and whether we agree,
the stars spell out a destiny fated for you and me

in your eyes i see the past,
on your palm i trace the future
with your lips i taste salvation,
even though it's a damnable sin,
and in your smile i see creation,
and with your laugh the flames begin.
engulfed and engaged
by the smooth swish of your hair.
befuddled and betrayed
by the blush these pale cheeks wear.
though you huff and hide your heart,
it bleeds out through your lyrics,
and through your music i find a home again
if only you let me near it.
in the night you break the silence
with the softness of your moans
and through your love i've come to realize
i was never truly alone.

everybody's searching for toxins, drugs, dopamine
to numb the pain and dull our minds
because we're afraid of what our thoughts are telling us
we're afraid of the voices we try to silence
with others' lips, but no matter how much I
focus on your heart, I can't escape my own
I don't know if I feel safe in the soul I call home.