These poems I write
are trash & trite.
Filled with some things
I thought you'd like.

And so, I stand
on a thin band
of worn-out land
that I thought grande.

Alas, my knees shook
and without a great hook,
I found myself falling
straight into a book,

but my book was not fantasy.
& as such, I could not fly. But
my thin band of worn land, so grand,
was all that stood between me &:

My bestest friend, the ampersand.

What kind of friends
slip right through your hands?
I'm drinking bottled love now-
Leftovers from
a time long past.

I've learned to love the taste of it-
dripping down my throat
~and burning through my bones~
Eyes like rivers, and
dream-like shivers.

But she told me:
"If they really wanted to see you-"
I cut her off.
Limbless and Lost
I trudge aimlessly through time.

An end to anger.
Call me jaded
but I don’t think
that’s possible,
though I’ve been wrong-

before-I could have
told you the difference
between happy and
existing. Now,
I’m not so-

sure-Enough, is enough.
Call me emerald,
‘cuz I’m still green,
but not quite right:
Like an off-

White-Tee, by Lil
Peep is a great
Song. I think
you might like it,
kinda like I thought you might like-

me.

Sure, it smells like cat ****,
But it’s not really the process
That matters.

It’s the end result,
The final product,
That matters.

It isn’t so much the hair itself either;
Rather the person the hair grows on,
That matters.

Maybe it is a coping mechanism,
But it’s better than a mental schism.

I apologize,
I’ve been dreaming
Hopeless, helpless, defeated.

Close my eyes
Kept breathing but still felt empty.
Airless,
Breathless,
But never friendless.

I can’t wake up,
Holy ****.

Filling up my cup,
It just isn’t enough.

Anymore.

I need love, need care, need to lay my heart
Bare.

Hopeful, wakeful, joyous,
Emotions scarcely known to me

Yet still I stand,
A person broken down to their very beginnings,
Powerful am I, and powerful are my insecurities.

For I am me,
Hopeless, yet undefeated.
Or
Defeated, yet hopeful.

Cold expectations;
Slightly blessed relations-
Ships on the sea,
Please, Breathe some life into me.

Vacations aren’t the same,
Empty
Social obligations confounded,
Awkward.

The things I write will always stay,
Showing up at the end of the day
As if to say,
‘Goodbyes are okay.’

It’s confusing, really-
Vacations, social obligations, and me,
But I promise, I’m not an emotional absentee.
-some guy named Charlie

Shredded in parts-
That piecemeal heart
Her gorgeous art

Peace
Piece
Pees
P’s

Four meanings
Same sound;
Seem familiar?