I hate when people tell me
"These are the most important years of your life"
Don't tell me that
I'll throw away these years of adolescence like the trash they are
And show no remorse in killing the person I once was
Because I will flourish as the person I will be
Do not call me baby
call me old
I will not hide my wrinkles
They are the scars of the life I've lived
I will not dye my hair
Its gray will tell the story of what I've done
Let my joints creak with arthritis as I tell you
That adolescence was the worst five years I ever lived through

When God made you he must have been writing a sonnet
because you are a poem
You are a masterpiece
and sweetheart don't cry
you'll make the paint bleed
your colors will run
and your face is too beautiful to be distorted by sadness
and dear you are a poem I have yet to write
because you are a feeling I've yet to feel
and I'd like to feel your body against mine
And I'd like to feel the way you speak
and I've read four dictionaries and have yet to find a word that describes
the beauty that surrounds you
It's not perfect
I've tried perfect
but your beauty is something that will never be porcelain
it is the beauty that comes from being dragged face first through the mud
it is a beauty that comes with scars
but don't hide them
because I'll count them like the stars
and tell you God made each one
like an eraser mark
trying to take out the parts of you He thought the Devil created
and you are a song
I'd like to sing
because when you swear
it is honey off your lips
but when I swear it is like spitting sand
and I know bad poetry will get me *******
but for the ones that matter you have to bleed onto the pages
so take this ink as my blood
and revere it like communion wine
but never get drunk on my love
because I never want to see you suffer the hangover
and take my words like bread
but eat more than just my thoughts
because I want you to live,
I love you

People tell me I'm a gifted writer,
But I think it’s more of a curse
Because Mary chose to have Jesus out of wedlock
But God just ****** the pen in my hand and said:
“Here, write”
And it’s a curse from Him to know so many words
But have a voice to soft to speak them
And Jesus chose to resist sin
But I was born with it
My birth marks show where Eve held the apple too close to my skin
These birthmarks show where I was burned by original sin

You are more than numbers
You are so much more than numbers
Numbers are insignificant
And only pertain to algorithms that predict unfortunate things
Like death
And I’m sorry I forgot your birthday
But it’s just numbers and numbers aren't important to me
I remembered your favorite color
Blue
Because it is the color that describes that clichéd, shallow melancholy
Authors often glorify to make petty things seem magical
But blue is something you should never feel because you go so much deeper than that pettty feeling
And I know your favorite flower is the sweet pea
Because I remember that it symbolizes the shyness I’ve never felt around you
And the shyness I’ve never seen you exhibit
And I’m sorry I’m so quiet
It’s only because I want to tell you how beautiful you are
But I know I’ll never be able to find just the right words to tell you
That you’re imperfections perfected
And I love all the things you say you hate about yourself
And I love the way words sound on your lips
And how you throw your head forward when you laugh
And you’re all the poems I've ever written
Even the sad ones
Because you’re all the feelings I've ever felt
And I love the way your hand feels in mine
And I’m sorry I forgot your birthday
But I promise I always will
Because I have more important things to remember about you
Than numbers

Dear Sir or Madam,
Why should you let me come to your college? It’s not because I have money, I don’t I don’t I don’t and I doubt I ever will, but I’ll work hard.
I’ll drink beer and never liquor
And I’ll study, or I’ll try to study
And dear sir or madam
Please let me come to your college
I don’t have any money, but I’ve got promise
Or at least that’s what they told me before they started sticking their hands out and asking for compensation for my education
Please let me come to your college because even though I’ll never be able to pay back the debt of raising me to my parents I’ll come closer with a college degree
Let me come to your college
Even for one day
So maybe I can see the world beyond money or privilege
And maybe if I get a degree
Maybe if I get a degree
I’ll make enough money to pay off my student debts before I’m in my fifties
And I may be the product of a broken education system
But I’m not broken
And if you let me come to your college
I’ll study all night
And go to classes all day until I fracture my psyche
Please, sir or madam,
Let me come to your college
I’ll do anything for a degree

Girl in blue
ribbons in hair
excitement fills
the springtime air
winter's gone
Daddy's here
and she knows
there's nothing to fear

Girl in red
full of dread
her boyfriend kisses her lips
but she wants to feel her best friend's hips

Girl in yellow
married the fellow
her father most liked
still she wishes
for the bridesmaid's kisses

Girl in black
lays in her final rest
betrothed to a husband
but longed for a wife

If I ask you what to write about
            Don’t take it lightly
Don’t laugh and say something clichéd
Don’t say, “I don’t know”
I know you know
         That’s why I asked you
If I write about you
                Don’t take it lightly
I love you enough to let you be a part of my being
    You’re something very interesting
Don’t blush, don’t be embarrassed
         Don’t thank me,
Thank yourself, for being the way you are
Good or bad, you inspired me
      And if I don’t write about you
If a single word never leaves my pen with the thought you behind it
    I’m sorry