The tree smells like petrichor in a forest full of lost hope and memories.
The tree tastes like old berries macerated into a thick liquid.
The tree looks like twisted branches reaching desperately towards the sky.
The tree feels like gnarled bark beneath one’s fingers
The tree sounds like a bird which sings no more.

Sometimes two wrongs
will make a right,
but only if
you try to stay strong.
Two rights
will rarely make a wrong,
but when it does,
you’re *******.

Attraction* is a disease,
it scours up every moment you can give,
and then it takes even more.
Love isn’t real,
love is a concept,
an idea,
to make us feel safe and protected.
The only truths in life
are the lies.
Liars and fakes
surround all of those who tell the truth.
They take and destroy
those who wish for a better life.
They strike down new ideas,
and they steal from each other,
not realizing
that none of their inventions
are truly theirs.

Sometimes stupidity is a curse,
sometimes stupidtiy-
stupidity
is a bliss.
Wait, scratch that:
Stupidity is a curse,
but so is knowlidge-
knowledge
I'll be arguing with someone
and they'll make a typo
and when I corecct them-
correct
It makes them even angrier,
and I just don't know what to do.
I can't just stop,
I don't know how,
I can't.
I will...
If they stop making mistaeks-
*mistakes

This is stupid.
I’m upset over something
and in ten years,
when I’m fully grown
with a job,
a house,
maybe even a family,
this decision won’t matter.

Who’s going to look back and check?
Who’s going to look back and see what I wore
that one day in eighth grade?
Who’ll think that I was a loser?
(I mean, I was…)
But in ten years,
who’s going to look back and judge one thing?


This sounds stupid.
I know it is.
The worst part is that I’m stressing over it,
like people will actually care.
They say it’s weird.
I say, “who cares?”

I just don’t want everyone to hate me.
I know, that sounds stupid.
My friends say I’ll regret it,
and maybe I will.
But maybe
in ten years,
when I’m fully grown
with a job,
a house,
**I won’t care about it at all.

dogs pulling at their own chains
not made to restrain but instead
made to constrict the throat
scratching and clawing at their collars
snapping at the passerby who extend a friendly palm
curling into a deep sleep under a meadow’s tree

Attraction** is a curse,
It's quick and fleeting,
or it's burning and everlasting.
Love can be real.
Yes, love is a concept,
yes, love is an idea,
to make us feel safe and protected.
The only truths in life
are pure.
Liars and fakes
surround all of those who tell the truth.
They take and destroy
those who wish for a better life.
They strike down new ideas,
and they steal from each other,
not realizing
that none of their inventions
are truly theirs.

I used to sit in the shower and cry
because I didn't think I was good enough for everyone.
Now I sit in the shower and cry
because I'm not good enough for them.

I would frolic in the flowers
and laugh around and play.
Now I lay down in the flowers
and sit and sulk all day.

I had hopes and dreams
and a wild imagination.
Now I've lost all love
and all of my emotion.

a star, oh so fleeting,
falling too hard and too fast.
down and down and down,
until its inevitable crash.