“Social media is taking over our lives,”
she tweeted angrily.

4 plus 3 equals 8
1 times 1 is 2
because if you and me are false
then I don’t know what’s true

I tried to write
So I picked up a pencil
But put nothing down
For it was missing a point

the gentle reminders of my fears
sing me to sleep
“what could go wrong?”
“will i wake?”
their ever-dreadful lullaby
lulling me to slumber
a grandfather clock
a stopwatch
tick tick ticking
til all fades away

Noses are hard to pick
With mouths I can be chewsy
Better eyes are hard to spot
Because my favorite face is you-sie

Easy simple temporary
A use of time
Quick to leave
But now I
blush at the sound of my name in your voice, know the ridges of your hands, laugh at the stupidest things you say, write these words you never see, worry of letting you go
Love is not to be planned

you’re the mentos to my coke
you make me all bubbly
and open me up
but boy you can make me explode

before the world burned
cities vanished
water rose
and the air became too thick to breathe
it was a nice place
but to most  
not nice enough to fight for

your smile, priceless.
your humor, divine.
but as for your temper,
that’ll be 75.99.

if pictures are worth thousands of words
then I have read I library
my eyes roll
with the constant scroll
of social media staring

people tell me i talk fast
i disagree
maybe you think slow
did ya catch that?
didn't think so

time is a man made construct
yet here I am
in the age of snapchat and iron man
the dinosaurs are long gone
the plague has left us too
the warfare of north and south
is all in the rear view
we’ve flown past the moon
and left the braids behind
if I had a bluetooth time machine
what else might I find?

my expectations are set at the stars
so I prepare for the long haul
but the higher I get
the farther it seems
and the harder, it seems, I’ll fall

e-cigs and i-phones
every teen's downfall:
prefixes.

the good ole days are here and now
the setting of our future nostalgia
and happy reminiscence

live life without looking back
so that one day
it’s worth turning around for

they say, “don’t blink.
life will pass you by.”
but I’ll need to blink sometime
my eyes are getting dry.

and going nowhere fast

Life
Is
Like
An
Acrostic
Poem

Sometimes
It
Doesn’t
Make
Sense

your foot on the gas:
a brick of immovable motive
forcing us into the future,
one we will not like.

if only my screams rang louder
than the toxins your brain swam in,
drowning you in other,
maybe we would've stopped.

there's another pedal, you know.
no, you didn't listen.
a bridge was crossed that day.
the tangible now torn down,

my abstract just as well:
an ever-widening chasm caught between us two.
i knew your secrets then;
i wish i knew how to drive.

because I don’t broadcast
my favorite verse of the Bible
in my Instagram bio
it is rumored
i worship
The Devil

my sides fit your ridges
your edges align with mine
our picture looks to be the same
but you're a corner piece
and sadly,
so am I.

if ideas are lightbulbs,
my house is dark.
if ideas are fires,
mine has lost a spark.
if ideas are paintings,
my canvas is blank.
if ideas are boats,
mine just sank.

I grew up believing
America was top tier
I thanked my lucky stars
to be brought up here

What was I saw as free
was just an illusion
Bigotry floods the streets
my heart sunk in confusion

I long for those younger days
while I wish I were Swiss
for I know now
ignorance is bliss

we sell songs of sadness
for 200k a pop
money can’t buy you happiness
but sorrow could buy you a lot

the transience of beauty
has often concerned me,
and i frequently wish for a permanence
that nature won't allow.

i bought you flowers for your birthday,
baby's breath you said you liked.
they sit on a table
in your living room.

the browning of grass
the falling of leaves
the wilting of stems
not strong enough anymore

by nature, nature is fleeting:
a sad fact on most days,
but now I sit, shrouded in sorrow,
waiting for flowers to die.

I haven’t decided
Whether I like change.
I suppose it’s nice
Dollars would’ve been better.

it’s late,
and i have an early class tomorrow,
so i will worry
about the futility of my existence
in the morning
(if it arrrives).

the sky cried the day I left town
its rain drops like tears bringing me down
but if I must leave you
and go far away
at least I’ll have left
on a rainy day

I might
pine
maple
elm
willow
for you
forever.

i hang on every word you say
waiting for mere mention of my name

even if you dance weird
dance like no ones watching
because if they are
they’re the weird one

hold me
my world is crumbling
my thoughts are growing
my body feels wrong
hold me
i don’t want you anymore
but i miss your arms
wrapped around my truest self
hold me
once again

thin as paper
you see the scratch
a little one at the top
it’s so tempting
you can envision the destruction
the sound
the sight
the pain
so why don’t you?
why DON’T you?
why don’t YOU?
WHY DON’T YOU RIP ME IN HALF?

We haven't spoken, to each other at least,
in a while, but I see your texts
to make sure the money goes toward food.
You've got the easy end of the bargain.

I'm reading the Brontes.
I'm going to church.
I'm sleeping eight hours.
I'm singing in the car.

My smoothie tastes too much like spinach.
I ran out of juice last week,
wasting it on vices you've long suffered.
Are you proud of me?

I'm skipping classes.
I'm lacking motivation.
I'm forgetting my Fridays.
I'm losing friends.

You are my biggest fear,
my wretched destiny,
the hole that my life slopes into.
"Thanks for groceries! Just made breakfast."

if i’m being honest
and i am (being honest)
i’ll tell you i’ve fallen in love
about seven times this month
meet a girl or guy
decide they’re the one
ruin it
rinse
repeat
however if i’m lying
which i much prefer
i’ll tell you that my independence suits me

i am
a legislative agenda
a number in a system
a check to be balanced
a wrong to be righted
a bill to be passed
a shout to be stifled
a cry to be silenced
i am screaming with all my might
but my anger means nothing
for who
am i
in this country
but another woman

fastest is not always best
sometimes speed can be illegal
slower can be good
you won’t care about your schedule
with a dent in your hood

your thorns that pricked me
hurt me the worst,
not venomous or caustic
but putting me in throes.
i saw the signs,
it serves me right,
but I was reaching
for a rose.