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M Oct 2015
the air outside today smells like people of all kinds
it smells like linoleum and air conditioning and cardboard
what is that? it's safety, it's knowing you are in an
inpenetrable hub. it's also change, knowing that this place
will take you somewhere else. It smells like love.
It smells like new revelations, hard goodbyes, and returning
to someone you know loves you. It smells like growing up.
I've been enveloped in that smell for the hardest
cries of my life, and for the most exciting, life-changing
moments. In fact, every time I enter this smell,
I know that my world is about to be thrown into a new orbit.
I feel safe here. Not sure why. They say we're afraid
of the unknown but they also say that life begins
at the end of our comfort zone- when I smell this smell,
I know that my safety net is over but I've never
felt more certain of my ability to walk the line. In short,
the air outside today smells like airports and churches.
M Jan 2016
After all this time?

Always.
In memoriam.
M Mar 2014
Alcohol does not agree with my system-
neither do you
but I still love both
M Oct 2015
I might not be good enough for you anymore
and frankly, thank God.
M Oct 2014
I do not want to marry a poet
I do not want sonnets written about the way
I take my hair down-
I do not want endless verses about depths within my eyes
I do not want descriptions of my lips
and metaphors about my pulse
for one who is too focused on the syntax of things
will never wholly kiss me
and no woman worth my life would ever
spend time alone, writing about me
rather than spend time with me,
making rhymes with our lips and
meter with our feet as we dance together,
alliteration in the way our hands entwine
and assonance in our limbs colliding-
letting our soft animal bodies love what they love,
because the only metaphor I will ever need is not a metaphor:
you are really here, we are really alive
and all before you has been a dream.
M Feb 2015
I get so jealous
and for no reason
M May 2015
it is almost impossible to forgive
someone that you once loved.
it is almost impossible not to forgive
someone that you love.
M Apr 2015
she may have been the sunset for majesty and power, completely and utterly awed
she may have been a breezy day for easy and free feelings, to teach me how to let go, give up
she may have been the storms and rain to remind me of God
but Grace, she will always be the night sky, that when I look up
I feel my nobility and humanity, the whole universe applauds
I can hardly move for my own significance in this cold, unfeeling air.
******* hell. She's always there. She's always there.
about four different people through my life. no one currently. just kind of working through my past
M Apr 2015
we're all so lost, but it is amazing
because in the end, I am found
our blindness will fade and sight will be restored
but even our blindness is beautiful.
M Dec 2014
to protect and defend americans
would you destroy the rest of the world?
because that is the mentality of **** germany and north korea and all fascist states ever
M Jan 2014
Your name means 'love'
and you told me that with
a look in your eyes that made me
wonder if you knew why.
And today is a rainy day,
worthy of staying inside
and you're beautiful-
yesterday
and today-

-and that's something almost worth
writing a poem about.
M Apr 2014
I am tuned to you
my every line is a pluck at your strings
regardless of who I'm talking to
I'm subconsciously trying to make you laugh
I am tuned to you
like a named bullet
I've forgotten anyone else
I run like you,
make faces like you,
dance like you,
my aim and my transmission
I find you and have found you
I have forgotten everyone else
because I am tuned to you-
a named bullet that is destined
for the one it will destroy.
and
M Mar 2016
and
I did not lie when I said I will feel the same in the end.
M May 2015
and in the end, when our eyes have closed and our hearts have been shattered
by people other than each other, and the dark settles and we're both afraid
because we both can't stand being alone in it, and in the end, when
God calls you by your name, I'll be waiting, or you will, up by the gates
of heaven because I know that we both are scared of hell, in the end
I'll have already written your name a hundred thousand times in the clouds
so that maybe by the time you meet me up there, the whole world
will know how much you mean to me. In the end,
when we forget what each others' laugh sounds like and our tears
come because we're tired and we can't laugh anymore about it,
and you don't text me good morning anymore, and my bloodstream
isn't shot with chemicals from you anymore, and I can't fill your heart
anymore, and Massachusetts doesn't remind me of you anymore, and
there are no more I love you's and I miss you's anymore and people don't
think we're gay anymore and people don't know the half of it anymore
then, with my last breath, I want you to know
that you've carved the shape of my heart in unexpected and beautiful ways
and I think about you more than you know and we've only scratched
the surface of what we have and what we don't have
I want you to know that I'll never meet someone who can write
the word 'synonym' and make me feel so much with just that,
I want you to know that I'll never meet someone so much like me again
and that in the end, being your friend has changed the course of my life
I cannot express all that I know or all that I feel about you,
or if I even should, because I'm a ******* nerd, and also too deep,
I cannot show you in this lifetime the amount of coincidences
and God-driven chance, and destiny, that has put us together
in the same place and in the same time on this Earth
I cannot explain to you the amount of beauty I see in you
but I am glad that someone so beautiful exists at all.
Thank you, thank you, thank you God.
M Mar 2016
and to think that you have called me through ages
through heartbeats, in quiet words, in sunny days
through thunderstorms and when I run and when I lay down to rest
you have called me in the arms of my mother,
in every broken heart and northern star, in my lost soul,
deep in my bones, in hard choices and older guides,
through every single person to whom I have ever spoken,
through dreams and long embraces, warm lights,
soft faces, you have called me through kisses
and forgotten moments, you have called me
when I didn't know I was forgiven, you have been with me
as I walked beside still waters, you have led me
through the valley of the shadow of death,
you have stolen my heart and restored my soul.
Thank you, Lord. I love you. Amen.
M May 2014
I want to write something utterly brilliant
and all I can think about
are angels
M Feb 2014
I am not a little flower- not Theresé of Liseux
But I'll use the metaphor here.
A beautiful flower, pretty and quiet
does not lie and say, "I am wilted,"
but rather, thanks and gives glory to God for her beauty;
a mountain does not deny the thing that makes him mountainous,
and stands tall, pointing towards the heavens;
a butterfly does not live inside with the idea of being 'humble'
But, because of her delicate beauty, will not be satisfied
until her beauty is shared.
Likewise, I, gifted with glorious angels' wings
will not furl them and submit to a yoke of slavery
but rather, fly.
M Jan 2015
I want you to need me
just as desperately as I need you
I want to be wanted by someone, you know? I guess I want to make everyone else feel wanted so much but I feel unnecessary sometimes because no one straight-up seems like they genuinely want to hang out with me
M Mar 2014
Poets are not born,
poets are written on the hearts of those around them
and in their hot blood, the only thing they can hear
it's that time of night again,
it's not the ocean in your ears and
the christmas lights are one third burnt out and
we're all kind of lonely and not sure why;
so in an hour without any particular light gradient
or weather circumstance,
poets are written
and poems are born.
M Dec 2014
the God of freedom, whiskey, beer, and food-
the God of green hills and romances,
the God of tattoos, piercings, and edgy clothing,
the God of cliffs, breaking waves, and high mountains with stiff winds
this God is a wild God-
He rises and sets like the sun
loves always but is sometimes not seen
Aslan is not a tame lion, after all
He is an Irish God and contains the universe
in the palm of His Irish hand.
M Dec 2013
I believe in selfishness.
But not really- I believe in doing what makes you happy-

and that's easy for me

normally, what makes me happy is what
'they' say I should do.
Easy for me to say, right?

At least what makes me happy isn't like,
killing,
Or something.

It's easy for me to pursue
happiness
And chase it, when
my happiness is caused by something
that it's 'supposed' to be.

At least, most of it.
sometimes I want to sin.

Is that because I'm human?
Should I aspire to be more?

I've been fourteen for a year now.
Accomplished a bit. Gained some virtue,
smoked some ***, (only once! I swear!)
Kissed a boy, got drunk (thrice),
moved on from being in love with, wait for it,
three
different
people.

Maybe that's not what 'they' say I'm supposed to be doing.
But I'm happy.
And fulfilled.
I'm not sad like 'they' say I'm supposed to be
I'm not lost
I'm not searching for the answer.
Well, I might be.

But the primary point is that I'm okay,
and I'm happy,
and I think 'they' are lying to a certain point,
and I think I am the one who knows what makes me happy.
I don't believe in selfishness to the point of
DISREGARDING them

I believe in selfishness to the point of
REGARDING yourself.
M Sep 2014
an open invitation
to throw off all regulations
and unshoulder our responsibilities
and just go see the world-
drug ourselves up, sit on top of cars,
watch the stars spin above us as the days and nights pass,
grow our hair long, sneak into music festivals
drink late by a fire- play music and play with each others' hair
let the wind control our flight, swirling around our skin
let the grass tickle our feet,
let the sun burn into our souls,
and let it ignite us.
M Feb 2016
I should not and will not censor my own feelings.
I take precautions: talk to whom I trust, block those I don't
I do these things explicitly because I don't want to make things messy
I don't want things reaching certain ears, so I do what I think is best
but everyone deserves to express their feelings without fear,
everyone deserves to talk about their pain without being taken the wrong way,
so if you want to know, ask me. If not, *******.
I've kept myself quiet for too long. I deserve to work through things
and heal in peace. No one asked anybody to go out of their way to read
what I have to say. Let me say it again.
No one asked anybody to go out of their way to read what I have to say.
Unless I told someone something face to face or consented
explicitly to their knowledge about something, it's none of their business
and frankly, if you think you can make an assumption then you know nothing
about my life. If you want to leave me be, leave me be. Let me deal.
If you want to be a part of my life, then do so, talk to me.
But don't talk about me. You waste your time and mine.
M May 2014
“You get a strange feeling when you’re about to leave a place. Like you’ll not only miss the people you love but you’ll miss the person you are now at this time and this place, because you’ll never be this way ever again.”
Azar Nafisi

you know...
every year, I'm scared it's gonna be different
and I'm scared I won't make it back
but,
every year,
I return
and yes, it is different,
but it is glorious
and I have never been disappointed.
when all else falls, and the world rejects me,
I have a rock
because who I am
has only ever been who I am
whilst standing on it
and now,
I am about to mount the rock again
reclaim myself
and ascend even higher.
(but fading echoes in my head resound,
singing: this too shall pass)
M May 2015
Everybody feels a little crazy
But we go on living with it
Yeah they go on living with it

I'll tell you one thing
We ain't gonna change much
The sun still rises
Even with the pain

I'll tell you one thing
We ain't gonna change love
The sun still rises
Even through the rain
M Oct 2015
He wakes up in the morning
Does his teeth bite to eat and he's rolling
Never changes a thing
The week ends the week begins
She thinks, we look at each other
Wondering what the other is thinking
But we never say a thing
These crimes between us grow deeper

Take these chances
Place them in a box until a quieter time
Lights down, you up and die

Goes to visit his mommy
She feeds him well his concerns
He forgets them
And remembers being small
Playing under the table and dreaming

Take these chances
Place them in a box until a quieter time
Lights down, you up and die

Driving in on this highway
All these cars and upon the sidewalk
People in every direction
No words exchanged
No time to exchange

And all the little ants are marching
Red and black antennas waving
They all do it the same
They all do it the same way

Candyman tempting the thoughts of a
Sweet tooth tortured by the weight loss
Program cutting the corners
Loose end, loose end, cut, cut
On the fence, could not to offend
Cut, cut, cut, cut

Take these chances
Place them in a box until a quieter time
Lights down, you up and die

Lights down, you up and die.
not mine
M Jan 2014
It hurts me when you have to leave.
I never want you to leave again-
I want to spend all of forever with you.
wake up next to you, go
on road trips with you, make
breakfast with you, dance
around with you, have
fights with you.
I don't want your mom to tell us what to do
or your sister to yell at us
or our friends to third-wheel
I want to spend all my time with you
so our restless hearts can finally escape,
together.
Every day. No one else.
You and me.
Forever.
M Feb 2014
I write so many ******* love poems
and I still can't say it to your face.
no song can quite explain
how desperately I want
to pin you down and kiss you.
and how is it fair, God,
that I must endure such endless torture
just to learn how to love without
expecting anything in return
M Apr 2015
take it a little too far when you actually mean it
M Apr 2014
I have never loved anyone
as much
as I loved her.
M Mar 2014
you're not solving any problems by blindly hating.
you say you hate their religion because 'they hate'
do you even hear yourself speak?
you're blinded by coincidence and ignorance
our religion preaches love, only love
and you're sitting there saying you hate all people of Islam.
and you defend your hatred by 'I'm only human'
and saying you want all muslims to die
because they haven't contributed anything to civilization
what about, I dunno, mathematics?
medicine?
name one muslim nobel prize winner, you say.
I can name ten.
the value of a person is not in their
character or beliefs or ******* 'contribution'
the value of a person is in the fact that they are a person.
would you **** someone with down syndrome? or a newborn baby?
they haven't 'contributed' anything at all.
and muslims have.
please, do your research-
You're so ignorant and fine to be that way.
I cannot hate anyone if I understand them
and you do not understand them,
so you've created a reason for your hate.
don't you know your own religion?
You are only feeding the evil in this world
you cannot fight hate with hate,
you must fight hate with love.
Yes, you are only human,
but we are called to be like *God.
and God does not discriminate.

I'm just mad about people who are racist or discriminatory against certain religions.
M Feb 2016
if I got even an inkling that you wanted to be in my life
my arms would be out like they are to anyone that puts in
one percent of effort, anyone that even smiles at me
is my friend. If you don't want that then you don't.
But it sure ain't my fault.
M Apr 2015
When I was a child, I heard voices
Some would sing and some would scream
You soon find you have few choices
I learned the voices died with me
When I was a child I'd sit for hours
Staring into open flames
Something in it had a power
Could barely tear my eyes away

All you have is your fire
And the place you need to reach
Don't you ever tame your demons
But always keep them on a leash

When I was 16 my senses fooled me
Thought gasoline was on my clothes
I knew that something would always rule me
I knew this sin was mine alone

All you have is your fire
And the place you need to reach
Don't you ever tame your demons
But always keep them on a leash

When I was a man I thought it ended
Well I knew loves perfect ache
But my peace has always depended
On all the ashes in my way

All you have is your fire
And the place you need to reach
Don't you ever tame your demons
But always keep them on a leash.
art
M Feb 2015
art
what would you call 'art'
and when do you propose it stops?
Art
M Mar 2015
Art
"A masterpiece is still a masterpiece when the lights are off and the room is empty."
M Feb 2015
I can't write without at least five people thinking it's about them
it's never about you; it's always me, it's always about me
love poems are enscribed straight from my mind, directed towards
none, and all, the universe, God, myself
Art is not towards the subject but rather from the artist
and if you can't see that, I will take my ******* artistic license
and tell you to '*******' like I did before
at least, 'you' probably think it's 'you' again, don't you?
M Apr 2015
there is something unifying about art
and something terrifyingly divisive
yes, we have all felt this- we are not alone in this theatre
millions of eyes have scraped this painting
thousands of hearts have beat to this music
and yet, no one will ever feel exactly the same way as you do
you will walk together, but not the same
supported, but alone
art reminds us of this- of the smallness of our beings
but the vastness of ourselves too, that to an ant I am an enormous mass
to the sky I am the smallest of matters, and to myself?
Why, to myself I am everything.
And one day, to someone else, I might be too.
M Feb 2015
love isn't knowing someone so well you see them as they see themselves
love is knowing someone so well you see them as God sees them.
M Mar 2015
I never knew you as the quiet one, because you weren't, not to me
never much wanted to 'dig beneath your surface' or 'solve your puzzles'
because the answers were just waiting to be found, instinctively
I always saw someone imperfect, someone that I just
wanted next to me, someone whose gold eyes I could look in
and be amazed, every time, I always just saw you,
I think when everyone else saw who you were supposed to be
I saw who you were, and that's what made me different, to you
that's what made you fall for me but that's also what made our friendship
fall apart, so quickly- you saw me too and that's when you realized maybe you shouldn't have me.
feeling nostalgic about the first girl I ever loved
M Apr 2015
I still remember how I felt laying on my mothers' bed
eating a whole gallon of blue bell vanilla
crying into it, remembering all the times I'd been afraid
and tired, and 3 in the morning on the couch
searching for something on my hand, a scratch
on the phone on a bridge, playing with a stick
while you said, "little do they know", calling myself
a ******, feeling my heart bloom in my chest,
a little girl rode by and asked if I was talking to my boyfriend
no, I said, I love you, I said, on the phone and you
saw me the next morning and I still remember
the dull lightning in your eyes that flashed bronze
I am grateful, I am grateful for you
and the raw smell of a sneeze while it rained and I tried
to forget the spikes and sparks I felt when I saw you
how they smoothed before me when I held you,
when I ran and I screamed because I thought a certain
amount of air in my lungs held traces of you
and if I just shouted loud enough I could expel you,
there would be nothing left, and as my feet tumbled down
the hill and my body exhilarated with my best of friends
I still could not forget that my eyes would never see you again
I still cannot forget that my eyes will never see you again.
maybe it's the rain that's got me feeling this way
M Feb 2015
we're all gonna die
so why won't God put things in our hearts that work together
one day my ashes will turn to ashes
and I think He is just trying to beat my lesson into me
and one day I'll learn, but I think before that,
to dust I shall return.
M Nov 2015
When someone tells me they don't want me
I tend to believe them.
M Apr 2014
you don't need to groan every time I start talking
M Oct 2014
as the sparks flew I felt my own helplessness
and naked, numb fear, and ignorance
at having smoked a cigarette in the only lonely
place I knew- what I had not considered
is that my secret place is full of dead leaves and dried needles
just waiting to be lit ablaze.
M Apr 2014
when it's dark and cloudy like this
it feels as though I am in between two layers of Earth
or in a collapsing room
the sky is a ceiling that is ill supported
a ceiling made out of ***** water leaking on the truck
a wet blanket on a fort from a broken childhood
made to hide from a father that doesn't love you
and if the soggy paper towel breaks
what will come crashing down through it?
the ground doesn't feel safe anymore
because the trees are the only thing separating the sky
from the Earth
and keeping us from being crushed
by whatever it is that's tormenting and oppressing
Atlas.
M Nov 2014
when everyone else is at each others' throats
and even we disagree a lot of the time
and I am ******* at everything around me
it is still a sunny day with you
because I know you're on my side.
I know you hate poems about cloudy days and
'being there through the dark times'
because it's not about the dark times, it's about the smiles
and I'm here to tell you that
it's not that you're 'here with me through the dark times'
it's that even though for a moment I thought they were dark,
you snapped me out of it, slapped me across the soul,
said, 'get your act together'
this is not a romantic love, it is not sensual, it is only happy
self-sacrificial, trusting, and stable-
it is a constant reminder that the world is full of goodness and light
they aren't dark times through which you accompany me
they are beautiful and I had forgotten that, that place of the sunrises
and the trees and the wet grass and the smell of rotten leaves
but you reminded me, because you are there and you show me
who I am and who I was. Thank you.
friendship. the best kind of love story.
M Apr 2014
you'd like to argue 'no, your grades don't indicate your intelligence'
because you have bad grades and
you don't want to think of yourself as stupid
and now you've settled yourself into a pit of
oh, I have bad grades, but that means
I'm smart in a better way than them,
it's like a smug superior thing,
like 'those people have such an ordinary intelligence'
and 'here I am, someone whose mind
cannot be contained by this fragile institution'
and you've made yourself satisfied with your bad grades
because you think yourself to be unorthodoxically intelligent
and those who have good grades
are boring, pointless individuals.
you don't want to feel bad about yourself
or put in the work to make them better
so you decided this mindset would work best for you
but I'd like to propose that yes, your grades do indicate your intelligence-
it's only a certain kind of intelligence,
mind you,
but it's the type of intelligence we measure
as ordinary intelligence.
if you have bad grades
you
A) don't understand the material
B) aren't paying attention
C) aren't putting in enough effort
or
D) there is no D
because grades are a combination of homework,
tests,
quizzes,
participation,
and projects.
I get if you're a bad test taker.
I personally don't understand how that works-
like, you get the material
until someone asks you something about it
and then you can't communicate your knowledge?
I mean, if you know something, then you know it,
and putting it on a paper, test or otherwise, shouldn't be difficult
if you actually know what you're talking about.
which ties in to A. if you don't understand it,
then actually,
you C. aren't putting in enough effort.
but okay, I'll accept that reason-
even though I think bad test takers are a myth.
you can't possibly be bad at homework
unless you don't put in the time to do it.
projects, too. if you fail those, you C.
and participation is B.
all those are easily solved by hard work if you
lack, for now, the kind of 'intelligence' we measure.
so if you have bad grades, no, it doesn't mean you're unintelligent.
but it does mean you're lazy.
or have reached a point where you don't believe you can do more-
which is a lie.
because you are capable of solving every problem
you believe you are capable of solving.
and telling yourself 'I'm just not good at school'
guarantees that you are not good at school.
if you appreciate your capability
you can go so much farther.
there is a limit to human potential,
but I don't think it is different for everyone.
I think the limit is where you either
cut yourself off
or
the upper limit-
very few people have reached that limit. perhaps no one.
but it is very high up there.
the limit where you cut yourself off
is that imaginary edge of human behavior
at which people say "boys will be boys"
or "evil is human nature"
or "certain people are more inclined to __ than others, and I am not one of those people"
or "everybody's potential is different"
because that is not ******* true
your potential is what you say it is
and the line you draw for yourself
is a wall you can now never cross
because you don't think you can
like 'I will never be more than what I am'
or 'All I can be is me'
or 'accept me just the way I am'
because you can be more.
and as a human being with this amazing power of metacognition,
you are obligated to be more
you are obligated to train yourself and
change yourself
and program yourself into the best possible human you can be
because every action you take builds you higher
and every choice you take breaks down the wall
you just have to make the decision that
you will reach the stars
you will do whatever it takes
because at the top of that mountain
you will realize you can do anything now,
you can go anywhere now,
you've made it all the way here-
now to the moon!
and I dare you to go
because I know you can.
the standards you hold yourself to are not necessarily true across the board. while boosting yourself up, you need to recognize that other people's limitations can be real within their own perceptions. two of the virtues you yourself should hold yourself to should be compassion and understanding- you should try your hardest to love and accept the people around you. when THEY fail to love and accept you, the only thing you can control is your response: whether to forgive or get angry and frustrated. Remember that you can only control yourself and that you cannot expect everyone's consciousness stage and truth to be the same as yours. All you can do is use what you perceive as their failures to train yourself to be better. getting angry, frustrated, or hurting them physically or emotionally because of their failure is only a failure of yours, and only adds to the resentment in the universe. you must fight hate with love.
the above poem is a good, positive way to think about and live your life. this is intended to be motivational and to scratch and fray at the chains we've bound ourselves with. this isn't supposed to be directed towards anyone in particular and was certainly not meant to hurt feelings. If you get offended by this, it's because what I've said disagrees with the excuses you've been telling yourself your whole life and now you've got nothing to stand on, so you want to blame me.
don't blame me. break your chains.
M Mar 2014
I am so uncomfortable
you're so uncomfortable
maybe we can be exceedingly uncomfortable together
or maybe
we
might
just
*click
M Jan 2015
when you run make sure you run
to something and not away from
M May 2014
I am not a writer. I cannot
write every night late into the deep
like young writers should
I do not have the perseverance to craft a character
they'll care about or romanticize
my characters are blind, foolish, ridiculous
unlovable, like the self-portrait
of a blond man kissed by the purple night
I am not strong enough to **** the dragons in my stories
I'll write you into the pages
but it will never be anything more than an incomplete explanation,
what painting could contain the sun?
I cannot contain the word that
you say with every moment and breath.
I cannot contain the word and
so the word will contain me. The ink will pulse
into my skin, kissing my soul with blessed eternity
I am not worthy, I am never worthy of the darkness of the word
impressed upon my heart of white, a tattoo
of something claimed by those greater, a crown of false gold,
those who wore it before were forced to give it up
by the one event they were trying to cheat
I say I had wings, and maybe I did, but they're gone now;
I am not a writer, the word has been falsely taken,
I am an usurper, not a writer,
I am terrified because I have
this river of flowing black etching and stamping,
forming and gliding, untangling into something greater than myself,
something I cannot earn or hear-
I am not a writer. Please don't let me be a writer.
I am not worthy.
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