I will tip toe around this feeling like a spill
in the floor that I don't feel like cleaning up because it isn't my mess (but it is)
You tied knots in my stomach like
they taught you in boy scouts and
you were never really good at math but it
didn't matter because English was your strong subject and
you'd be ****** if you didn't
paint your words like scenic painting.
You said your IQ was higher and
I knew it wasn't but I let you
think that because whatever
I was difficult
and no one ever let's  me forget it and
for once I needed to agree that maybe
this whole thing wasn't for me but
if not me then who
so I forced myself to be there. 
I already have a hard time accepting
compliments and yours were
as hollow and bare as the dead oak tree you
sawed down in boy scouts my ribs
the broken branches termites crawling out
of my tear ducts and
to think they say they taught you
survival and other things that young
men should know and people always
say boys will boys and
you are always trying to put me
in my place because
that's what you've been taught to do
but my place is wherever and
however I wish to be and
for reasons I don't understand I had
allowed my place to be with
you and if I call you out I'm
a ***** and if you don't agree with
the pictures I paint
with my own tongue
I'm a *****  and
you tell me I haven't seen anything but
I know I have seen more than
you and I'll write in my diary but stick
around anyways because I'm
difficult and no one will ever let me forget it. 
And one day I wake up and realize that
you no longer have interesting
things to say and I try to
imagine a time when you
did but my mind draws a blank
you did not treat me as your equal
we are so young, and I've read
more books than you, yet you
tell me there is no truth other
than the words that roll off
your tongue wet with paint
you claim to love art yet Salvador Dali means nothing to you.
And I continued to be your teacher
while you insisted that I was the student
I longed to be taught by someone
who saw the worth in my words
and not just my ******* and treated
me well regardless of the size of my ***.
I didn't date much because I'm difficult
and no one ever let's me forget it.
And if you're constantly telling me
I'm weird and adding lol
I don't wanna ha.ha but I will
because you make me feel like
I'm not normal.
You make me feel as if I'm living
an alternative lifestyle because
I don't wanna have *** and
I don't think about it every waking moment
not every conversation I have with the opposite gender has to be sexually charged like
an angsty teenage battery.
And then one day I find that besides me you
have been giving many girls hollow deaf
oak trees and though I've seen more documentaries then you it stings
like a slice through my heart and
even though you learned first aid in
boy scouts you leave me to bleed.
I wouldn't have let you near my
wounds (I would have)
but the fact is you left me to bleed out
and it's pain I can't explain or name And
I'll refrain from mentioning it to my friends because I don't want it to matter but
sometimes it does.
At the end of the day my taste in music
was better and your art was paint by number
and just because everyone makes me feel
like I need to be with somebody doesn't
make it true my heart is most vibrant
in solitude.
Your boy scout badges mean nothing
to me so what you can tie knots
in my stomach and make me feel
pathetic is there a patch your mother can
sew onto your uniform for that?
I can't tell if you're the magnet or I am.
One day I'll stop texting you back but
I'm difficult and no one will ever let me forget it.

we're friends right? no we are strained acquaintances we are yin yan
g with nine colors we are tv static on all night when you're too tired to
get up and turn it off we are doodles in the margins of a very importa
nt research paper you are lost in everyone forgetting that my middle
name is freedom i am putting on metaphorical makeup to mask my
emotional blemishes we are sour candy and ginger ale we are obscu
re genres of music shoegaze my ****** valentine we are a waterco
lor clusterfuck bleeding together like an amateur blood drive read b
etween the lines we are biodegradable plastic half covered in the soil
untouched for two years we are sunshine and chill bumps I hate you
for the same reasons I hate myself we are nostalgia and anxiety we a
re insomniacs who only want each other between the hours of 8 pm
and 6 am we are avoiding eye contact in the halls

you wear your ulterior motives around your neck like a no
ose or a beaded choker you know you have weird style yo
u don't need reminding its not supposed to hurt when ****
boys with high libidos take and break but you've got eyes
that remind them who's in control they think you're *****
y and whatever you totally are it's okay to howl at the mo
on every once in awhile they'll make you want to slide into
a sinkhole or be swallowed in the soft wet soil but you've
got a hidden agenda for when you smile the sun shines bri
ght no one can deny a witch like you when you sing for ma
ma earth your soft skin makes plants grow what's a minor
heartbreak when a tsunami could wash away an entire vill
age at least you have patience

how can it be that i'm the source of my own undoing i'm a ball of yarn I didn't kick myself down a flight of stairs I didn't knit myself into a scarf I didn't sew myself to connect patches of a quilt to cover up my awkward sadness I didn't string beads on my body to make a bracelet I didn't use myself to make abstract mixed media artwork to display in an abstract gallery for abstract hollow artsy people to scrutinize and search for underlying meaning my existence isn't some ******* spectacle my existence isn't some
******* coincidence my means will justify my end

I have never been the victim
when my *** bubbles over everyone
comforts my mother
when I cry my family laughs
when my sister cries and I tell her
to **** it up because that's what I
was taught, I am the heartless *****
my mother still has the nerve to
remind me that I would have never
lasted a day in the house she grew up in
I want to remind her that she never
calls her own mother though she
lives only 15 minutes away
misunderstood is an understatement
when I take 25 Tylenol everyone comforts
my mother

You want to tell your mother that she is digg
ing your grave you need to show your little s
ister that she is helping raised streaks and stre
tch marks this baby has battle scars they may
make you feel like you're feelings are invalid b
ut your body is living proof there will always b
e boys who reject you and old men with a thin
g for green eyes who'll want to help you solve
your daddy problems show your teeth confirm
all the rumors that you're bat **** crazy you do
n't owe anyone a smile when people call you bitte
r spit in their faces you will always belong to you

i'm spacey i'm astral out of my body
out of my mind unable to conn
ect to this world and it's sys
tems begging the cosmos
to restore within me a fir
e for life a hunger for other hu
man beings i often wonder abo
ut the urge to touch some
one tenderly or my lack thereof
i am unable to connect to this
world and it's systems it's worth
less paper everyone mani
festing their biological agen
das when i'm not looking mine
leaks out of my pores like sweat
i can't help but see through th
eir motive charged words but
you have potential i want your
soul not your flesh i want to vib
rate in an alternate reality with
you i want to die and be reborn
with you i wanna chew a hole
through the wall of the ameri
can psychosis rat race for
you i am awake shak
ing your body i am
unable to connect
to this world
and it's
systems

My life is mostly the same some
Times I feel the need to
Spice it up
I took it before I left my house
The ride to
School was average. Small talk
With my Mother little does she know how tricked my body is
A small screen lit up my dark restless night. And the little green vessels meet the average sunrise
Everything is average
Zoning out as usual, average until suddenly .
My head how it spins like a Saturday night of drinking. My head how it bobs about like a Sunday morning regret.
The choir sings the preacher commands me to repent my sins
I can't take it back. And I wouldn't
Id rather stare at the walls all night depriving myself of the one thing my body wants most and fight it in the morning
Little does the preacher know that I don't give a **** about what's in my textbook. The congregation is engaged in the service little do they know that world war 3 has begun in my head
Blood fills the pews battle smells permeate
Personal poisons are subjective and on this morning,,ironically,,nyquil is my choice thank god for liquicaps the syrup is god awful

I want to write your name 1,000,000 times
on a chalkboard and then erase it and bang
the erasers and breath in the cloud and
suffocate ok?
actually I want to curbstomp you and lick
your blood off the cement and collect as many
of your teeth as I can and make a bracelet
                                              (I want to be your love, I want to make you cry)
actually I want to kiss every inch of your body kiss I mean bite
I want to tear you to shreds
actually I want to cut your chest open and crawl inside and
vibrate with your heartbeat and force you to hold me
                                     (I want you inside of me)
actually I want to call you out on a white lie in front of all your friends
                                                   (I want to be your only friend)
actually I want to read you conspiracy theories right before you go to sleep
and fill your dreams with paranoia
                                     (I want to kiss your eyelids)
actually I want to cut the brakes in your car and I want to be the one driving us
100 mph towards a cliff
actually I want to put bleach in your morning coffee and I want to force
you to drink it
actually I want to empty your bank account and live out my days alone
somewhere warm, alone
actually I want to give you all the pleasure in the world, all the pleasure a
human man could experience and then I want to castrate you
actually I want to tell you elaborate lies about my childhood
actually I want to write you books
actually I want to make you feel adored
actually I want to make up my mind about you
actually I want to paint your nails and cut your hands off
and use your fingers to display my ring collection
actually I want you to notice me   (please)

my body is ready
my body is ready
my body is ready
virginity ****** catch22
don't u know all the things I wanna do 2 u
my body is ready
can't contain my feminine energy
my body is ready
can't keep my eyes from twinkling
my body is ready
am I my body
my body is ready
feelings or purpose
my body is ready
soul power n pheromones
my body is ready
physics and laws of attraction
my body is ready
biological agenda
my body is ready
I don't even love myself
my body is ready
chakras aligned
my body is ready
but my mind is rarely on time

You're right you don't know me anymore and obviously my text messages which leave a lot to ambiguity and interpretation  aren't sugar coated enough to show that I do value and love and appreciate you
(error message not sent)
You're right you don't know me anymore and obviously my text messages which leave a lot to ambiguity and interpretation  aren't sugar coated enough to show that I do value and love and appreciate you
(error message not sent)
You're right you don't know me anymore and obviously my text messages which leave a lot to ambiguity and interpretation  aren't sugar coated enough to show that I do value and love and appreciate you
(error message not sent)

teenage boys make me feel like
a used ****** peel me off
don't call me back

https://www.Idoit2myself.com/sigh/qUitw8ng4smthngdat1sn3vR-goin2happen/path3t1c/