dear you, i wonder if i will ever have to specify who you are. if there will ever be another boy i will write so many poems about, so many poems to. you were the first. you haven't been the only, but then again you haven't been the only anything. there have been many since you. so many that i've begun to lost track, there have even been girls. when i met you i was homophobic, but look at me now. look how i've changed since i met you. look how i've fallen. when i fell for you i fell down the rabbit hole. i took too much shrinking potion, yet at the same time i'll always crave more. if i'm smaller when i see you will you love me again? is there even an again to be had? i'll never know for sure, so i've let myself believe that you loved me. that you could again. but part of me knows that our time is over. i can't accept it. i can't let you go. dear. i'm afraid to let you go because there is no one else to hold onto. there is no one like you. i can't breathe. it's been two years and i can't breathe. i don't want it to be three, or four, or more. i want my oxygen back, i want you. i can pray to god a thousand times and i will still want you. only you. pretend that i'm your soulmate and kiss me. one more time?

Lately I've been trying
to tell you in long
words what you do
to my insides but none
of it makes any sense,
so maybe it's just that
my pen isn't quite working.
There's no poetic way
to tell you I run your
name on the record player
in my head over and over
until I'm dizzy with the
sound of it. There used
to be more to your song
but we hit a bump and
something got scratched,
so now it just sings
"Ryan Ryan Ryan Ryan"
without me knowing
how to stop it. In stereo
my heart beats
thumps
says
"I love you, I love you,
I love you"
in your roughest voice-
the one you have at 3 am,
that you have in all my
best memories of you.

there once was a boy
with black hair
and blue eyes
he wrote about things..
things no one had seen
like eternal sleep
and imaginary dreams.
he lived in a world
where fun was non-existent
and colors
were quite distant.
the girls read his poems
and they laughed at them
because he wrote as if
they were his memories
but no one
had experienced eternal sleep
because death
had never happened
they all lived forever.

there once was a man
with black hair
and grey eyes
he wrote about things
things that people began to fear
like eternal sleep
and being cut ear to ear.
and being cut ear to ear.
he lived in a world
that was painted black
because colors
had no impact
on the town
that fell apart
by the boy
who wrote about his memories
who made eternal sleep
and killed the ones
who wanted to die
they no longer lived forever
and the boy named death
was just doing them a favor.

Use your body as a navigator
for the compass use your heart
use your mind as a tool
Now it's your turn to start
Follow your heart
not everything will be as it seems
But if you keep on reaching
in turn you'll find your dreams

there was a time when i thought that maybe i could start to be alive. i stayed away from drugs and alcohol and i trained for hours every day and learned what not to eat and practiced a religion i had no idea about. but i felt something was missing and i had no idea why i felt so empty. i saw the people i love start to turn sad and gray and most days they couldn't lift their head out of bed. i soon began to realize that i had stolen all of their happiness, all of their hope and all of their motivation to live. it was like once i started to feel happy i drained all others of theirs. of course the only moral thing to do was to give back their happiness but i did not want to.

i am selfish and i am selfless and i am without self.

i felt it was mine, not theirs. i worked so hard to be happy for the first time in my life. i was independent, i was hopeful and positive, i was everything i had wished i could be. but i understood that this happiness was not mine and so i drained myself with cigarettes and bottles on top of bottles of old liquor and a different drug every day. i began to dream feverishly of fresh grass and old tasting food and sickness. i began to dream of my death. death was an old friend and he did not mind reuniting. i had dabbled with death for a long time, always testing him and some times begging him to take me with him when he left. he always knew the right times to kiss me but he never followed through.

death talked a lot of **** for a guy who didn't know how to take a hint.

i prayed to a god who didn't listen to me. i constantly got into fist fights with a god who forgot about me

And so in days past
the Zen Master sat with his disciples
in silent meditation
and a Divine Being appeared before them all
and addressing the Master, the Divine Being said:
"Hey, listen you - yeah, you, the Eminently Bald
For your patient and sustained meditation
I offer you a reward
Choose what you like:
infinite wisdom, infinite beauty, or infinite money"

"Infinite wisdom, of course," said the Master, promptly
And so it was done, and the Divine Being disappeared
as Divine Beings usually do

Silence followed and then one disciple dared to speak:
"Oh Master, tell us something
now that you have Infinite Wisdom"

There was no pause, and the Master said:
"I wish I'd chosen Infinite Money"