During a walk through the hallway
of the primary school
I find hallways
filled with turkeys and leafs and stiff scrawled characters.
What is Mr. Smith's class thankful for?
Flowers and toys and cars and dresses and pink and purple and soccer and skirts and barbies and family.

How could you sum up all of the things you are thankful for in one word?
At the end of the hallway I am faced with a choice:
What are you thankful for?
-----------------------------------------------------------­------------------------------------------------------------
What­ am I thankful for?
Happiness, and family and security and nature and
friends.
I am thankful for friends.
I am thankful for laughs and chatts and cries and sobs and games and smiles.

I am thanful for ****** contortions and 80s dance sessions,
for inabilty to speak.
I am thankful for hobos, eating on the side of the road,
and for devious scheymes of intoxicatation.

Hep beni anlayan bir arkadaşım var müteşekkirim
and who listens to my sob stories.
I am thankful for singing in the rain.
And styling hair in the sink
for screeching and howling
and hissing.

I am thankful for obkirchergasses,
for Ströcks and for ice cream plarlours.
I am thankful for mentos,
and walnuts.

I am thankful for bad lip readings and hilarious youtube vidoes.
I am thankful for unknown languages and nymphs
and for eloquence.
I am thankful for good taste in music
and for strong opinions.

I am thankful for dancing indian pirates with demon chicks and fireballs.
I am thankful for two-headed teenagers and barbeques.
I am thankful for God and healthy choice prayers,
and Hawaii get aways.

I am thankful for huge, hanging sweaters and crazy, funky leggings.
I am thankful for deep talks about the world's lack of beauty
and for poetry buddies.

I am thankful for dodgeball playing mice,
and poor old wenches.
I am thankful for pirate and mermaid adventures.

I am thankful for the looks we get:
looks of loud disapproval,
and whispers of quiet exasperation.

I am thankful for golden men and loud singing,
for crazy dances with crazy cousins and cute brothers.
I am thankful for Aunt Jemima.

I am thankful for banging on metal bars with rocks and shouting at the top of our lungs.
I am thankful for climbing over gates in order to not step on cracks.
I am thankful for amazing humanities teachers.
I am thankful for a laugh when the day is over.
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How those kids manage to fit all of their thankfulness into one word  is beyond me.
Even the one-word things we are thankful for, must be described with a million words.

People wish for a power
They wish to for invisiblity
to disappear
but
disappearing
is a curse

I have an invisiblity cloak glued to me
with the world's best glue
I can rip and pull and scratch it off
but it only leaves for a second
and gives me nauseating illusions of being part of something
and then it's back
hiding me from the world
smothering me in deep waves of silence and solitude

I'm sitting right here
right next to you
and yet you ignore me

you close the gaps between you
and whisper
******* whispers
they **** me
their sharp edges cut me with piercing un-spoken words

If I could have a power, any power I wanted
I would chose to be seen
to be talked to
to be shared in the moment
to be part of it

It's been a while
Since I've put a pen in my hand
It's been a while since I've let it out
Since I've screamed and listened for the echo
Since I've smiled and waited for the frown.

Sometimes words just don't fit.
No matter how hard you try you never say what you mean
and in the end
you feel sad...
at least I do.

Some people can't smile
and no matter how hard they try it's never real
in the end
you can't help them
and you feel sad....
and empty.....
at least I do

Punctuation.
has no place in a; poem

I. believe"
We should? write
and NOt' worry...
about,where (we put) these trivial markings/

Who) cares about the corrections' when its" really about the words!!!
why. cant. we. make. our. sentences.like.this.short.and.snappy.
or why cant we let them live and grow and take on a life of their own and live and spread and continue for hours and hours and send the world into haywire and chaos erupts everwhere and change topics and confuse people and boggle minds and* make you think-

I}{have a secret? i Would like to ShArE
Nothing matters
~'!()_-}{|":?9[;'.],/...!!!?!?!?!?!{({})&"'|)}?/,."}~~~'!

The tracks stretch on for miles
cold, hard metal
scratched and worn and broken.

Walking in the middle
each rung my personal foothold.

no one knows I'm here
I'm all alone.

I continue
step by step I near my destination
I see hedges of falling, golden leaves
I see the mud-caked, brown leaves
and the rotten fruit.
I see that one, lonely, silent tree

and I continue.
Staring at the rotten planks of rusting metal.
Listening to the metallic clink of my heals against the slabs of steel
'Stainless', they had said with triumphant grins.
They lied
everyone lies.

The once gleaming ore, now covered in mud and eroding plantlife.
Amidst the gloomy fog,
I find one shimering square of steel
smirking and reminding me;
not all lies are full.

I glance up and find myself back where I started,
Next to the hedges
the mud
the fruit
and
the lonley, silent tree


    and I drone onward

Who are you, in your eyes?
What authorizes this?
How overcompensated is your ego to allow you to do this, without guilty conscience?
Why do you do this to me?
When did you become this monster?
Where do I fit in?

They all tie into the one question that haunts my being:

                                                         ­                                                                 ­               Do I even matter?

And you hold the answer
my enemy
my friend
my teacher
my student

my fate
                                                            ­                                                                 ­           *Should I trust you?

"You look good together"
I know
"You would be cute together"
I see that
"I think he likes you"*
Doubtful,
I've never even been considered

But apparently
I'm not good enough
I'm an untouchable

Too unique
Too smart
Too independent

Not enough breast
Not enough ***
Not enough popularity

I wish I could say
that it doesn't bother me

but I watch all the fakes with their perfect boyfriends
and I feel sad
and I yearn for that
and I think we wouldn't be fake
we would be real

I wish I could say
"His problem, he's missing out."
but I can't
because,
I'm missing out too