I want you
to set your throat ablaze
and yell as loud as you can.

you are
                                               allowed
to be angry.

I want you
to sing
as we burn
our                                               problems
to ashes.

What Were You Thinking, CBS!?


There is basketball
But no Young Sheldon tonight
Life has no meaning

but I am simply a child
and as my imagination runs wild
the rampant halls
and violent withdrawals
my mind is busier than ever.

I fear stepping on the
scattered shards
and bearing more weight
than I ever have before
so I don't make any attempt
despite my own plea
and I silently hope that someday soon
you will choose to talk to me

The pit in my stomach is lead.
It weighs me down
and infects my mind.
In ways fight or flight can only begin to explain.