I'm slamming down
Ctrl+Alt+Delete
but the stupid
Task Manager
won't pull up
to end this program
maybe rapidly pressing Delete
would end my life?

They call us "Millennials"
The internet dwellers
Post and make your status
Hey! Have you read the rumor in campus?
Facebook
Twitter
Instagram
Snapchat
We live with these app
Faking ourselves and crap
Sharing your pictures so happy
Though your mind are so ******
Insecurities
Intimidation
Jealousy
We know it by every "Liked"
I want to be her by every "Share"
Why I can't be her in every "Love"
Anxiety
Depression
This is what we suffer
Millenial Fever
A post can overwhelmed our feelings
Living scratch into us until evening
"What's on your mind?"
"What's happening?"
This is our struggle
To be me but also not me
Welcome to our generation
We are Millennials

you are made up of moon;

you swell with pride when the waves
expose where the softest stones lie

you know of blood as thick as honey,
that turns to crystal as it dries
tame me with tender, melt me
with kindness
let me feel that i'm more than

oh how i adored you.



was it your back once?
how your muscles  met your bones
how your forearms moved
was it your hands? how much they held of me.

your fingers used to be so strong
now all i see is skin
the thinness of you



i'm sorry i disappointed you
i can tell you never planned for my love.
you never devoured me
you looked past me to meet my face
kissing me only with your lips
(when i was missing your body and your breath)

you're looking at her pictures now
instead of mine
in the middle of the night
when you need a little bit of healing
from your loneliness

and my existence
no longer
is your remedy

everything rots, reeks and crumbles into pieces,
all turn into dust and degenerate corpses.
there is no magic portal gun to zet into another reality,
you will be slapped morning, noon and night.

everything stinks, dies and rears its ugly corner,
all end up competing and cheating one another.
dismal gloom over powers hope and fake altruism,
bring on your brickbats for my negative thoughts

everyone reacts, when there is nothing to lose,
or when you have someone around you to support,
everyone remains silent, when the obvious states otherwise,
whichever you chose, didn't i get a reaction from you.

nothing is what it appears or speaks for itself to be,
everything is devoid of a collective conscious, a common grave
bury your higher order being wanting some stirring,
stop reading this poem, and build something real.

still persistent, are we? click that, tweet this, like that, hate this,
fire away your anonymous cannon ***** in well dressed amnesty,
breathe in life, turn off that news, hug someone,
create something, anything, don't consume the internet today,
we have more reporters that we will ever need,
what we need is news makers...

A poet’s weapon of choice:
Their Pen.

This weapon –
The only tool,
Capable to express
A poet’s emotion.

It lets:
Ink flow on paper,
By its delicate touch;
Emotions to be engraved,
Onto the paper;

Hope; transcends onto it.

This is done by a majestic tool:
Their pen.

I wish to be a poet.
But –

My pen flows with blood,
My pen viciously carves onto
The paper;
Marked – by blood stains.

I wish to be a poet…

However.

My pen; my weapon –
Is not used for writing
But;
For cutting.

writing is where i feel the most at peace,
the most honest i've ever been with myself

i don't feel the pressure
to create visually enchanting pieces,
nor do i feel the need
to impress or to please

i write so selfishly,
so inwardly,
so unapologetically;

as if the world is mine,
as if it revolves around me,
and will continue to do so,
as long as words keep flowing like spilled ink
on marble

with every letter that i scribe,
i build a bridge to dreamland;
with every word i craft,
i fill the tank with gasoline
and give myself the wings
to fly

because you could claim
that you've taken everything
that made me who i am,
but you could never take away my words
which i have so intricately
sewed onto my tongue

because for as long as my words live,
i live;
and as long as my words thrive,
i'll fly.