Minecraft calls
And gta parties
Horrible races
Repetitive insanity
Midnight laughter fits
Midnight promises of forever
Midday I love you's
3 o'clock it'll be okay
Daily please don't hurt yourself
Weekend need
Constant no interest in what I look like
Even if we were on video calls constantly
Sentence finishing
Food envy
Parent envy (at least you had one good one)
Horrible cry-fests
Constant panic spamming
Insane laughter with horrible puns
i'm done with references
Why are you ignoring me
You are the love of my life

Bradley, gone too soon.
His absence, a gaping void
Poor ol Louie Dog

~JNc
9~'15

It was orange -
spherical symphony of segments
I liked to
             cut
up,
      peel off the skin,
lick the surface
while you
       stared
and
       shouted
and
       clapped your hands

and called it Art.

We both devoured it
anyhow.

I spat the seeds into the air,
you waited for  
                         gravity
to catch them in
your wastebasket.

I noticed the sour
before-taste
    dripped into
sweet
    -bitter
so our fiction of
pulp
melted on the
tongue
into facts of juice
running down our chins
until we were
           hollow-hungry
no more.

Facts like
frightening
words -
you may decide which.

It was orange
      like
the globe
     of irrational truths
some people pray to.

Dropped out of a tree
       into our mouths
but we bit into
everything
       but
nothing.

It was orange.

Egos
large enough
to steel the spirit
of entire societies

their self servitude
offering no help
to the people

their cold hearts
have no place
for love of others

their only need
to feel superior
as they tear down
all that is about them
through the misuse of
the position they were given
in order to become

as a child
king of the hill

whose lie
gave them the idea
they were above all others

do they not see the destruction
they leave in the wake of their walk
through life

If you look in the corners
Of my heart
You'll find One
One was the first to plant
The small seed of love
In my young heart
From it flourished a red rose
He found it so beautiful
He decided to rip the petals off
Once he held them in his hands
He decided to go find another rose
One was the first
I wanted him to be the last
He was there in the past
He will be there in the future

Two
Was the second to arrive
He found the red rose
And saw that it was dry
His eyes were oceans
And he drowned the Rose in them
He was not satisfied with having
Only one Rose
He found someone else
To be his last
I opened the door for him to leave
So he wrote his name in the past

Three
Was the Christopher Columbus
Of the oceans of my heart
Three rediscovered the dying rose
And nurtured it
til the petals grew back
He wanted to erase the past
So he painted the petals white
And said it represented innocence
He adored the Rose
And admired its' beauty
He sang songs for it
Believing it would
Grow more beautiful
2 months too late
He realized it never would
He loved the idea of the Rose
Not the reality of caring for it
So he ripped it out from the roots
And wrecked it with his hands
He left empty handed
And left me empty hearted
Three was the third
I still dream about him
Being the last
I wish he wasn't
Stuck in the past

Four
Was a gardener
He knew his way around flowers
And had with him many dying roses
I should have known
He planted a rose bush
Fed it love poems and pretty songs
His voice was the only water
The roses would ever need
Once they had bloomed
He ripped them out
And went on his way
Onto some other heart
He was never truly mine
I had always been his
He won't be my last
He left too many scars
I put him in my past

I should not look,
She is a girl,
And so am I,
But she is pretty.

He is hot,
I kinda like him,
But I may not,
For he is a boy like me.

A girl and a boy,
Both loved,
Not by eachother,
But by me.

I look in the mirror,
See a body,
But it is not me,
Just my (fe)male version.