maybe we don't compliment each other as much
as I'd like to think.
we've always had problems, aggravated each other
too much- I'm so sentimental and can't quite
get across what I want to say perfectly,
and you are picky when it comes to a lot of things
so when, not if, I ******* my wording up, you'd
take it the wrong way,
and it hurt me I couldn't let you understand
but we've had brilliant moments, remember those?
we've gotten closer to the ideal wavelength,
we've been utterly in sync,
with just a few mistakes,
and we danced,
or that time when we figured out why
it hadn't worked before
and when I stopped telling you to sit down
and when you read the poem I wrote you without telling me
(the expression on your face was worth the anxiety giving it to you)
do you remember when we fell asleep on the couch together?
all those times I held your hand?
do you remember the look in our eyes when
we decided to let each other fly?
and though we'll never be perfect,
for you, I'm willing to try.

I must be clear.
My mind, heart, soul, must align
with that of truth, and that of God
and it must come out my mouth
perceptible, so that all may know of what I speak,
and I must go there, and speak to you, because
it is my calling, and
today I opened my Bible to a random page
and, a highlight, left there from a long time ago
like I am prefiguring my own future,
"Here I am, Lord."
And I think, I've known the whole time.
Ever since that day,
when I saw those trees and the mountains and started crying
And the second day, when I felt the ground beneath me and the stars above
and I was whole, and humble, a full servant of the universe
And the third day, today, when the class was silent and I said,
'Prophet.'
And that's why I'm tall and my voice carries,
because there is something I must do.
I have walked in that path and I'm ready, because
having been aligned with the universe's purpose for me,
I have created and allowed for the bigger purpose to begin:
to perpetuate that egoless love,
and spread the word,
because agape, and only that, is how we can live in harmony.
You can feel it within you, can't you?
It's the human compassion that drives us and creates a straight line
from my heart to yours- if you are tugged, I will follow,
The strings of the loom are woven, not tangled;
how can we make each other happy?
That's the question.
Humans exist with one goal in mind: happiness.
The Buddhists believe something, as do the Hindus
and the Christians teach about it too.
They all seem to say something about love,
and something about suffering,
but there is one truth-
throughout all religions,
one message.
Give fully.
Give wholly.
Forget yourself.
Value your brother as much as that which you are-
We are one.
It's time we started acting like it.

You're playing this little game, like,
slowly shift away from Maddie when she's standing on the balcony
and yell at her for yelling
and tell her, "GO," loudly,
like, "we don't want you here,"
and you laugh at my feelings as though they're
cliche and not worthy of your attention
and you ran away from me when I walked up
the stairwell, saying, "Watch out! she's coming!"
and I know you think it's funny
or it doesn't matter, but
if you only knew how much I loved you,
you wouldn't dare. and I think when I
gave you that hurt look just now,
you knew you had pushed me too hard
so hard that you might have broken me.

maybe I should be a nun
or date that boy in orchestra
or adopt more cats
because anything would be better than
spending my free time learning love songs on guitar
so i can melt your heart if need be
and constantly dreaming about you
and being crushed every waking minute.

"I'm depressed," she said, laughing a bit.
You gave her this glare, like "look you lil ****,"
"You know not what you speak, you don't even get
what that means," we live in a world when as long as you
have an excuse, you aren't responsible
and "I'm ADHD" is enough to be able to do
whatever you want, and you aren't held accountable
At what point do feelings become genuine enough
to justify your actions? When is it okay to hurt
others and plead insanity, your morals aren't tough
You're confining yourself, staying in the dirt,
"I can't get higher, the world's stacked the odds,"
is enough to believe you're 'fine just as you are'
When you use, 'I'm okay as a sociopath, why don't you love me'
instead of, 'I can be better, I can get very far,'
Everyone will be held responsible for their actions,
Boys will NOT just be boys, and girls are not all *******
We don't have to break into meaningless factions
Hurting each other, you gave my heart stitches,
you don't have to do that. You can be nice to me.
because in reality, you ARE fine, you ARE free
These limiting conceptions are what's holding you back
It's impossible to believe you can get back on track
You're stuck in this rut and it hurts, it tingles
The rays of this roof is breaking through the shingles
I want you to be happy, I want you to see light
The will of your body is the will of your mind
You can conquer these words, these diagnosis confines,
You can do it. I know. Believe me. You're fine.

Whenever my mom talks about gays, she says,
"Why does it matter if they sleep with someone of the same gender? You don't have to tell me about your *** life."
But it's not just a *** life.
It's a love life,
and love holds everything we are together
and if my love is different from yours,
in a world when people like me get bullied,
destroyed
for something they can't help,
then I want to know I am safe.
I want to stop lying to you, to my mom,
to my dad, my teachers, my friends.
I want to stop coming to school and being terrified someone will
realize who I am.
I want to be able to be honest about these deepest of feelings.
I want to be able to tell the truth to people who love me,
and I want them to be able to still love me after it.
I long for the day when this won't even be an issue,
and I can look her in the eyes and kiss her,
without gasps or gags or threats of death.
That day is not today.
I long for the day when we don't have to come out
and everyone is free together.
That day is not today.
So, until then, I will wave my ******* rainbow flag
and scream until I can hardly breathe
until it's safe for you and me.
It's horrible we have to use the word gay.
Love is love and it shouldn't be defined a certain way.

Said the little boy, "Sometimes I drop my spoon."
Said the old man, "I do that too."
The little boy whispered, "I wet my pants."
"I do that too," laughed the little old man.
Said the little boy, "I often cry."
The old man nodded, "So do I."
"But worst of all," said the boy, "it seems
Grown-ups don't pay attention to me."
And he felt the warmth of a wrinkled old hand.
"I know what you mean," said the little old man.

Is this real
or am I deluding myself
calling you 'love' when you feel nothing for me
I can't play with the hand I've been dealt
feeding my ego with faraway fantasies
do you really love me or is this just dreams?
maybe the reason I haven't told you yet is because
as long as I haven't told you, there's a small
fraction of hope, though failure's tall,
when I tell her that everything she does
is magic, then she'll have to make the call
and I'm not ready to hear it- I'm too far
gone with the wind, whispering these
hopeless aspirations to shoot for the stars
and the stars weren't there to begin with.