I hate writing
         Writing to me does not convey the meaning behind my words
   Writing restrains me from translating the tornado of my thoughts
         My words form into the stone they are set in
               What said in writing becomes who you are
                     One kind act in a book, a saint canonized for eternity
                          One bad tweet, let that be future’s unknown burden
               Writing is the glorifier and the change inhibitor
       I don’t like writing because I lose my sense of being
  I reveal what and how I think of and to the world
       And the world just stares blankly
                like crowds in astonishment or in ridicule
                         While others proceed to shine above
                      whilst writing and faking their way through words
                             A scene from Shakespeare
                                     Said so fast with so many meanings,
                                difficult to interpret if there was vision to begin
                                 I’m not saying I am bad at writing
                           I am able to reveal cyclones in essays
                         Hurricanes in space
              Words spoken never to be heard aloud,
                  Comedies and tragedies
                       Love notes and suicide letters
                             Novels and Scriptures
                                  Songs and Ballads
   All for what?
                                        For a chance to travel a point
                                           To break through a closed mind
                                               Set an idea that may change views
                                                   To let the reader view the world
                                              Through the eyes of a stranger or friend
           Why not let them?
                                                 Why am I to take myself too seriously
                                            For humans are most comical when
                                       We take ourselves too solemnly,
                                We over think ourselves into storms
                       But we also fly through typhoons
                 We build great nations from tribulation
                     We explore new lands from eruptions
                          We create new worlds from black holes
                                We travel through space and time from chaos
                                       We create wonderlands out of madness
                                                      But­ to do so,
                                                 first we write
                                                           ­  。

I don't know
How to weave words to delight a heart, or
How to gaze into eyes and be completely lost
I don't know
How to morph my thoughts into words, or
How to turn bad times into happy days, or
How to debate an argument and control my temper, or
How to show the world the real me, but
I'll learn
How to hold a hand so it fits perfectly in mine, and
How to show the feelings I never knew I had, and
How to open up my floodgates, my emotions, and
How to tell the difference between
"If it's meant to be, it'll be" and
"If you want it, go and get it"
I have a lot to learn
But I'll learn
I know.

A Nail, a small rod
a rod that sets the difference
between structure and collapse

One tip sharp to dig and impact
Dangerous alone without a guide
Ready to split and open a hard exterior
and grip into an ever impenetrable interior
To force an idea, a point

The other end flat for taking on a force needed to dig
Flat enough to focus the effort to force open and split
To forcibly separate and and guide dangers
To be the force behind the idea, the point

Using one's own hand to drive in
Damages the hand more than the exterior
Only brushing and leaving no mark

A hammer whether ball-peen, claw or mallet to drive in
May drive in the nail if hit just right
But miss and risk damaging the exterior
Only denting and bruising it

If you cannot seem to drive the nail
whether missing the flat end
or the material to impenetrable
you might be the need
of a sledgehammer

I’ve never been the best at trusting others
I’ve never had the friends to lean on when times got hard
I’ve never had the experience of breaking down in front of someone
I’ve never had my own words that I could translate my thoughts
I’ve never been one to voice his opinion
I’ve never had the beautiful girl that was there for me to discover who I truly am;
to shed my armour and bear my heart
I’ve never had the inclination of who I am as a person and still doubt I know anything at all
I’ve never been one to bear such thoughts to the light of day
I’ve never been one to bear about the dark thoughts brought about by my own philosophy or by the thoughts of just ending it
I’ve never been one to confide in others
I've never been one to admit the dark days out weigh the good like the sun outshines the dismal light of an atom
I’m not the one to voice his complaints about the world around him
I’m the one that hates the person he sees in the mirror
I’m the one to fail to speak when everything is too much
I’m the one shattered behind locked doors
I'm the one that locked their heart away with iron bars, too afraid to let it become the leader
I’m the one screaming at top of his lungs in the middle of space
I'm the one with no voice to sing his future sons and daughters lullabies
I’m the one sobbing in an ocean of untold pain and agony
I’m the one that cant let himself cry in front of people as it feels like a sign of weakness, fearing of pity
I'm the one standing tall while I'm falling into a bottomless pit
I’m the one too depressed to love someone
I'm the one with too cold feet to tell someone how I feel
I'm the one with too cold fingers to hold their hand
I’m the one too weak to want to go on
But I’m one with no weapons, just a lot of ammunition
I’m the one choosing to unload it all into ****** verse to try and make sense of why I’m still here
I’m the one living in a world of disaster and hatred
And I am going to be the one who chooses to live in the world as a force for hatred to threatened by
For disaster to cower
I’m the one choosing to bear the worst of me and become better all for it
I'll show the best in me
I’m sorry to those I wrong
but I’m thankful for the lives I am a part of
And that’s why I can finally sleep at night
Because I am free and I can thrive and I can live
And I’m just happy I got to be a part of this so-called life
I’m the one always thinks of the way out
I’m just the one that chooses to live

Wisdom tells me I am nothing.
Love tells me I am everything.
And between the two
My life flows.

It takes a village to raise a child
sometimes it takes a city
sometimes it takes a whole country
Sometimes it only takes a woman that loves them unconditionally

I can’t say I didn’t
I can’t say I haven’t
I can’t say I don’t
But I can say I still do

I may not be a lot
I may not be perfect
I may be weak
I may be anxious
I may be depressed
I may think I am nothing
I may have voices screaming what I should be
I may be quiet
I may hate myself
I may not like myself
I may not want to be here
I may wish I was never born
I may think of ending it
BUT
I am alive
I am here
I am enough
I am human
And THAT is enough

I imagine that if I could fall in love,
it would be with a woman that...

That if I could tell her all the thoughts I think,
I'd never be allowed to take another breath;
That if I could gaze into her eyes,
I'd never need to blink again;
That if I could find my way,
it would be into her open arms;
That if I could change anything in the world
it would be so that everyone can find their soulmate;
That if I could spend the rest of my life with her,
I'd die smiling alongside the true definition of happiness;
That if I could turn back time,
I'd set us on a collision course
with no peripheral vision;
That if I could tell her how I felt
I would tell her, "I love you"

Dear younger me,

If you could see me now
from high and tight crew cuts to man buns
from quiet to expressive
from uninterested to invested
from ignorant to knowledgable
from no words to poet
from listening to music only when in the car
        to always having headphones with me
from antisocial to open
from no sense of self to a sense of being
from days sitting alone at the lunch table
        to interactive in class
from suicidal thoughts to the best days of your life
from broken spirits to healed soul
from alone to having have friends
from unloved to in love
from single to head over heels
from a shadow to an individual
from no one to someone
someone people are proud of
someone, I, you are proud of

to you,
-me

The thought that I would be good at something
The thought that I would be able to do something right
The thought that I could have friends
The thought that I can talk to people and they listen
The thought that I would be loved by someone
The thought that I would fall in love
The thought that I would be able to survive
The thought that I could make it to tomorrow
The thought that I would have something to live for
The thought that I would be able to feel happy
The thought of being happy
It never occurred to me

Who am I?

I am a kid among adults
I am an elder among children
I am too old but also too young
I am limitless yet so restricted
I am perfect yet so flawed
I am a saint but a sinner
I am too keen, yet reluctant
I am taken but unclaimed
I am free yet a prisoner
I am in control of my life
I am a tool in the lives of others
I am loved yet detested
I am calm yet so, so afraid

I am a god among men, but
I am also a man among gods
I am my past
I am my future
I am one
I am all
I am I and I am you

I am who I choose to be
The question is
Who are you?

Someday I found myself
with a flood of emotion
I found myself thinking I'm not enough,
I found myself thinking I can't do anything right
I found my head pounding, not a headache
I found my head with a train horn going off inside
I found myself with the feeling of the sound pulsating in my skull, resonating with bone

I found myself in a isolated room
I  found myself in a secluded corner
I found my knees to my chest on the floor
I found my face tear streaked
I found my body to seized up to wipe them away
I found myself too tired to sob

I found myself sitting
I found myself thinking
Thinking of writing the note
The single note that always I found myself too afraid to write
I found myself thinking of a quicker way
I found myself thinking of the shortcut

I found myself crying until my body gave up
I found my body stopping itself
I found my head resting against the wall
I found myself looking at the ceiling
I found myself thinking at a million miles an hour
I found my thoughts of why

I found my thoughts of why,
in all the universe, all that is or may be holy or divine, why?
Why I was put on this earth?
Why I was here?
I found myself with my thoughts
I found myself breaking down
Breaking down, into a pile of uselessness
Breaking down, into a pile of helplessness

I found myself disappearing
I found myself falling
I found myself fall, heavily, to sleep, empty