The point isn't to forget.
The point is to move on.
The point is to remember
And learn
And use the pain
That attacked you down
And use it as experience
To bring others up.
The point isn't to forget
About the long nights
And effort to breath
About the crooked red lines
And the long sleeves
About crying so much
And crying so hard
You feel the loosening of your seams.

The point is to grow
And move on
To find the beauty in the world and
The purity of living.

i kind of hate poetry, like,
i'm sick of flowery words to avoid straight-up honesty
i'm sick of the deception and the depression
and the predictable rhyme schemes.
i mean, there's that kind of poetry
and that's the kind that i kind of hate.
a lot.
i'm a poet, okay? i'm a poet who likes
flower words with flowery lines
used only to cover up lies about
how much dinner i ate last night
and sometimes i have to admit
that i do kinda dig talking in rhymes.

but i'm really sick of that kind of poetry.
i kind of hate it.

give me poems that speak past their words,
give me poems that fill the air,
give me poems that breath and decompose.
give me girls with dark marbled skin whose voices break out of the cages they're trapped in.
give me boys in high heels.
give me revolution and remaking.
give me poetry.
give me songs.
i'm sick of the romantic stuff.
give me poems pieced together with discontent,
give me poems picked apart by nervous hands,
give me poems that will shatter all former concepts of reality,
give me poems that declare platonic love to an old best friend.
give me poems that have meaning.
real, tangible meaning.
i'm sick of looking at perfectly-formatted pages
that have to use set-up and textual ranges in order to be considered proper poetry.
i'm sick of verses with well-measured lines,
because those are the ones that i can't whisper to myself at night because
i ramble the poems.
i ramble the words.
give me poems that i can fill a room with.

i kind of forgot my first line, but that's alright
see, i don't know where exactly i'm going with this but
that's just how it is.

so give me poems that aren't pre-conceived,
give me poems that aren't thought out for the sake of their beauty.
give me poems that will hurt me.
give me poems that will hit me.
give me poems that will **** me.

i kind of hate poetry,
but not all kinds of it.
just the kinds of poems
that don't seem to notice
their true ability,
cause i like the kind of poems
that have the power
to change a society

(or at least someone's mind about something).

I watch the stars
And the streetlights
And the leaves
I watch the fire
The waves
and the trees.
I watch
And watch
Humanity
But never understanding.
I watch the laughter
And tears
And screams
I watch them speak
And call out greetings.
I think its beautiful
Raw emotion
The way we are all linked.
But the hate
And greed
And ignorance
Drowns out the good.
So I will watch nature
And the stars.
Beauty much easier
To understand.

Land of the Free
Yet ranks 20th in the world
Land of the Free
Unless you aren't
White, rich, and male
Unless you aren't
Christian or Atheist.
Slam the borders!
Americans insist
Keep them out!
Let no one in!
Land of the Free
We sing
And chant
Land of the Free
Proud are we
Land of the Free
But not.

We're just soaring on this earth.
Without course, a floating asteroid,
with no worth, it's our planet of birth.
Of meaning, all there is, is void.
Always wandering to some north,
pretending life of merit is not devoid.

I'm not writing full of depression,
it's just the same old realisation.
Don't wanna die, just a bit whatever,
waiting for a change in this monotony.
Tired of waking up, wish I'd sleep forever
or that something would entertain me.