I learned this in undergrad; That I'm a "yes person" defined. In self-defeatist monotony, I think I burned out my mind.

Hypocrisy personified, notebooks filled with lies. Prerequisites were full of ****. Required, to them, didn't apply.

Monopolistic macroeconomies, business school taught me to hide. A complete lack of self-reliance, an endless search for a diagnosis.

Cross-tabulate, over-analyze. I swore to them, "I'm fine." But, what's an existential crisis? I'm just asking for a friend.

Procrastinate to copulate, never finishing on time. My inability to articulate, dying to feel alive again inside.

Hesitation turned desperation, finally deciding to speak my mind. It only took me five years to admit that I was just too starved to shine.

My life is a pinprick rhythm
Of did he or didn'ts
A tumbling fimble you're unable to fathom
A fumbling fiddle unable to riddle
A monstrous predicament you can never straddle
A boy in a boat that thinks himself a man with no paddle
Razor sharp teeth with cavities in deep
A petite pair of feet carrying overweight meat
My story is backwards confusing and daft
I say this not to undermine your own
Merely to promote the melancholy undertones
To describe the bright light as darkness and woe
To share with you my heavy weightless raging hormones
A girl with beautiful long brown hair that pulls her eyelashes out when the world is not fair
I see sense when there isn't any there
You might see me and I might not care
Enjoy my despair
Understanding me is like understanding wind with no air
Understanding you is like understanding
peaches or pears
Probably better served with cream
Single not thick a dairy self esteem
Single not thick...

*what does this poem mean?

once my teeth have all fallen out,
i will line them up like little bone tombstones,
and love my dentures more than
i will ever mourn my
flesh.

When my past comes to visit me,
it isn't a smack in the face.
It gradually creeps up,
wrapping itself around my body,
engulfing me.
It knocks down all my feelings
and throws them away,
making room for itself.
My past is not a welcome guest,
but it's hard to kick it out.

A new flower only blossoms with water
and rigorous concentration.
Good intentions just aren't enough these days.

You're in bloom,
your pistil rises and grabs the sun
like a new promotion.

Mine lies on the top shelf of my closet.
And sharp mahogany corners
don't bring me closer to any answers.

My kindred, my barren love
some meaningless God,
voided by logic and chemicals-
I have been told to plant my roots
within their soil.

They have been told to reach for me
just outside of arms length.

Absence doesn't make use weary-
it reveals to us the vast pastures
within mahogany boxes-
it manifests the bittersweet drought
I have swallowed like a jagged pill.

I watch you bloom in violent meadows.
I concentrate by daydreaming.
This way,
when blood fills all the small spaces,
the guilt won't **** the minerals
from vibrant, naïve roots.

Words dripping
From empty lips
Trickling down
Into the abyss
Droning on
Becoming faint
Swirling around
Down the drain
Voices making
Waterfalls
No one listens
Everyone talks