among the stars is a boy
who carries through the dark
his eyes full of wonder
and his hands coated with galaxies
with one lift of his finger
comes a new moon
and a new reason
to look up

women
are constantly being shamed
because they want to dress how they'd like
women
cant wear anything too "revealing"
because men cannot control themselves
women
cannot be too big, or too slim
because society will shun them
women
cannot vent about their emotions
because they are being "dramatic".
but where would we be without them?
women make great sacrifices for the world.
they deserve to be appreciated,
not shamed based on their appearance
not ignored based on their gender
and not hated based on political views.

i want to hear
the song you sang to me

i want to see
the stars of cancer

i want to feel
your hand around mine

i want to breathe
the scent of fresh rain

it feels like
the stars align
so perfectly
when you meet them

it feels like
a snowflake
falling upon a window

it feels like
you would change
just for them

it feels like
when they leave
you cant bend your fingers
to write

and after
you wish
that you
didn't fall
in love.

i remember

her eyes were like doors
that welcomed anyone through

her hands were rough
the hands of a crafter

her freckles looked like stars
shining on the face of the sky
that was her skin

her arms were torn
not from an accident
but from the pure hate
of not being able to feel

her nails were painted
each a different color
i don't think she knew the difference

her hair was straight
and scarcely reached her shoulders

and i..

i never saw her again.

one
the stars will never align

two
colors are dull

three
time passes too slow

four
breathing is such a hassle

five
too many scars

six
so far to go

seven
no release

eight
too much trouble

nine
no one sees me

ten
therapy made things worse

eleven
nothing worth seeing

twelve
twin flames often part

thirteen
i am already drowning.

when i feel trapped
i claw at the walls
the bars
of the cell that i am
encased
inside
and my hands
push against the walls
which crumble
beneath my fingertips

when i cant get out
my nails
dig into my skin
leaving bare
red
brush strokes
across my arms

and after
i am calm.

twenty reasons why
i refuse to speak

twenty reasons why
i always feel so weak

twenty reasons why
i am not unique

twenty reasons why
you are the only one i seek

yet there are a million reasons why
i wish that you loved me

when the other kids
talked about their
childhoods
they remembered
disney
white-picket fences
and red roses in the front
but why do i remember
midnight cigs
a collection of empty smirnoff bottles under the sink
a garage full of empty boxes and broken glass
mildew crawling up the sides of our house?
why cant i remember
disney
white-picket fences
and red roses in the front?

"it's hard to explain"
are my favorite words.
whether it be my
sexuality
gender identity
or religion
whether it be
math
science
or my will to live
whether it be my home life
or why
why
why
"it's hard to explain."