tell me again that you love me
i love to hear people lie
because you don’t know how to love
i cant say that i do either
but, i know that love isn’t supposed to feel like this

love isnt supposed to manifest itself as paranoia
nawing at your every thought
or jealousy
overriding your functions like that little green monster

love is not these cruel things that you do

the red and yellow fire glistened behind her eyes
shone so brightly it was obvious to the specators
the red and yellow sparks frightened her and those who flanked her
when they saw the saturated color of the flames errupting no one could stand by her any longer
it was clear that she was set to explode

spectators watch from afar as the red and yellow flames rapidly consumed her
as they ate away at every part of her flesh
the smell of burning organs groped their nostrils
filling them to the brim with a stench they could not withstand

the girl stared as the people continued to back away
stuff their noses with their sleeves
and felt as she burned
her body became bloated with the fire
and then she burst
into a great flame that scorched everything in its path

the specators watched the finale
as she disappeared
into the red and yellow flames
and was never heard from again

everyone is an artist
because we craft our lives and decisions
so meticulously
our choices are so specific to who we are
that no one can make the exact ones as the other

everyone is an artist
because we craft our insults and hatred
so carefully
our awful and greedy actions are so specific to who we are
that no one can do the exact ones as the other

everyone is an artist
because we craft our love
so perfectly
our hearts interwine with those we seek the most and are so specific to who we are
that no one can love another the exact say way

everyone is an artist
but just the same as art we can not plan our lives
because it will not come out the way that we imagined
and it will not go perfectly
but we will plan anyways
and try our best to make everything go the way we would like it to

we cant really craft our lives

we cant really craft our hatred

we cant really craft our love

but we sure as hell can try

i want to write
but, not just anything
i want to write beauty
i want to write poetry that transforms people
i want to write so exquisitely that when a person who doesn’t love, or rather show love, reads my work, theyre overwhelmed with emotion and passion and love
i want to change people’s perspectives on the world.
i want people to fall in love with the delicacy of life and the human race, the way that i do everyday
but how, how can i write all of this grace when im so angry?

anger is the least graceful emotion
and im angry all the time, at nothing specifically
im just angry
sometimes i can feel myself getting angry in my stomach
it starts in the pit
then it travels up and up and it feels like its consuming me
and my chest gets tight and
i cant breathe
and i can feel the blood hastening its flow through my veins
my head burns like someone set me on fire and i lose control of my body
it feels like the air flow to my brain has been disconnected.

i become a ball of energy
no longer able to control its own thoughts, feelings, emotions, movements
or anything for that matter
how can i breathe my own words into other peoples hearts
if i cant even get myself to breathe air?

i dont like the person i become when im angry.
its as if i forget im human and i turn into a machine whose only purpose is destruction
i get scared of who i am when im angry
i get scared to hurt someone. not physically, but emotionally, i am so mortally terrified of scarring someone else’s heart
emotional scarring doesnt heal like the scarring of the flesh, it stays, constantly reappearing in your frontal lobe, all the time.
who am i to bestow that kind of pain on someone else?
no one, i am no one.

i want to write
beauty
passion
misery
emotion

i dont like who i am when im angry

inhumane

destructive

i want to do better.

i will do better.

my mother told me that
a woman’s prized possession
is her hair
that it defines her
and all of her beauty emanates
from it
but i didnt agree with her
so i shaved my head

lying under the fluorescent lights
wading in the white sheets
the lights faded in and out
it took everything in him to suppress the tears accumulating
even with the red liquid surfacing from every scorched part of his body
he couldnt let himself cry
because MEN dont cry
boys cry.

the last time he cried
he was too young to remember
except for what his father had done
when he saw the glistening drops rolling down his face
slammed him into the ground
and the sprained wrist he acquired
was his reminder everyday that
MEN dont cry
boys cry.

but he let that glorious shining tear roll down anyways
because maybe men cry too.

ebony colored skin and chocolate eyes
hair like spirals and coils dripping down
a face so sculpted it seemed crafted by the gods themselves
her hips spread and attached to a thin waist
and lipids gathered in thick bunches below them

she eyes her features in a mirror and grows in a sense of loss
an innaccurate feeling, but she gets it anyway
why?

when she was 5 years old she went to school
with her hair out of braids, curls voluted
she was ecstatic to share it with her friends
but, they just laughed and pointed
and her teacher scolded her
and tried to tame it down with vicious twists

when she was 11 years old she went to school excited
she was ecstatic to see the boy with ivory skin that she liked
but, he whispered about her
and a girl told her that he didnt like her
because she was too “black”

on her 17th birthday she gathered up all of her courage
and stood up for herself

when another girl with eggshell colored skin
told her that she was inferior
and belonged as a slave
and people told her to stop overreacting
and her teacher kicked her out for being violent

so she went home
let a stream of tears loose
and finally told herself that they were all right
she lost every shred of self worth

that’s why.

her mouth was sealed shut
and her eyes were leaking
she didnt let out a single word
from the outside everything seemed serene
tranquil, but sad
wrong.

her mouth was sealed shut
and her mind was on fire
she didnt let out a single word
from the inside the chaos was immeasurable
infinite, still sad
close.

her mouth was sealed shut
but her heart was beating a thousand miles a minute
the voice in her mind was projecting her insecurities back in her face
on the outside everyone knew she was better than this
but on the inside she felt she wasnt

so she let everyone glance at her placid face
and she let her mind battle itself inside of her skull
tranquil face and infinite chaos
correct.

i will sit alone
and i will stare at those stars
the ones that litter the night sky
like little shining blemishes

i will sit alone
and i will stare at the window
the one that separates me from a fatal plummet
like a guardian

i will sit alone
and i will stare at myself
the version of me that is filled with nothing
like a lifeless corpse, floating

i will sit alone
and i will stare at the people
the ones who roam freely, carelessly
like real, living people

i will sit alone

because no matter

how many people

surround me

i am always

i will always be

alone

im not a mess
everyone just happens to be holding a different piece of me

her heart beat at an unfamiliarly fast speed
as she picked the small container
up off of her nightstand

hot tears raced down her face
as if they were racing to reach
the finish line of her shirt collar
as if it were a life or death competition
they poured down in long, hot drops
and she tried to wipe them away
but it was useless

everytime she wiped a bunch
of tears from under her eyes
a new bunch would form
and continue the competition

her soft, sunkissed hands
trembled with the container in them

she lifted it up to eyelevel with her
but even then the thick stream of tears
blocked her vision
and she could only make out
the faint colors of the container

without a second thought
she inhaled one final breath
and shut her eyes

the white bottle cap
twisted open in her hands

and little pale pills
trickled down her throat

her heart beat at an unfamiliarly slow speed
and she went out with a small thud
and a smile gracing her face

insecurity is poisonous

because it will enter

your bloodstream

using your eyes and

seep out of your

mouth to infect

those who have only

treated you well

there is beauty in every person
like a seed perfectly sown
by planters with years of life experience

time passes and the seed is watered
with waste, and humiliation
pain, and sorrow

but somehow
it still finds the sweet nectar
of creativity and love

slowly, the seed will
sprout into a beautiful flower
a different one to match every soul

there is beauty in every person

but beauty does not grow
through happy life experiences
beauty comes from the spirit
that transforms the wrongs its been dealt
into flowers for those who hurt them

little black shorts latched
onto legs thats stumble
as they walk
those legs are at a loss for feeling
numb, and the girl can feel her arms slightly more

hands out, car door open, legs in

little brown paper latched onto hands that tremble
as their fingers shift
on his own lap
those hands are numb
and the boy can feel his feet slightly more

lighter out, paper lit, smoke in

little black shorts catch ash and soot as she grows more and more numb
every body part
just short of defying gravity everything physically numb floating
except for emotions

exhale in, exhale out, pass

little brown paper
fizzled out in hands
that no longer knew
the difference between reality and dreams everything physically numb
except emotions

little black shorts unzip trembling hands move in
a longing to be numb floats between the two

they say the older you get, the easier it becomes for you to hold on
but when i look into their eyes, i see a different story
it only seems to become harder for them

their eyes tell me what their mouths never will
“help.”

their asking, begging, i know it

why else would she spend an entire paycheck
filling her body to the brim
with every kind of toxic drug she can get her hands on

and why else would he
even attempt to justify
the two little pale pills
he just dropped in her drink

why else would they
look at me with sorrow
filled eyes and with regret
emanating from their skin
if they didn't want,
need help

they are asking, begging for it
maybe not with their mouths
but with
their eyes
their actions
and i was begging for it too
why else would i write this?

“help.”

a cockroach crawled up her sleeve and inside her shirt
and it fumbled its way into her brain
then, it fed her lies and let her think she was worthless
when it was done, it crawled back out
and on its way out,
it took all of the love that she had for herself
it left her empty

from that day on
she unconsciously let in every cockroach she met
trying not to feel empty
not knowing that those cockroaches
were only making her feel
more empty

i sit shotgun in her pickup truck
with a pen in my hand
a notebook resting in my lap
and i try my best to focus
focus on anything
anything to stop this

the whole car starts to spin
my heart beat thumps in my brain
a nauseous feeling creeps up from my stomach to my throat
and just before i lose my breath
she stops the car

i can hear her voice spilling from her mouth like sweet honey
and she says:

“focus on the pen in your hand, charlie.”

“breathe, charlie.”

“you’re okay, charlie.”
“you’re okay, charlie.”

then a miraculous thing happens

the car stops spinning
my heart stops thumping in my brain
the nauseous feeling finds itself a way out of my body
and i breathe because,

“im okay, sam.”

breathing is a regular body function
still, it seems like it was the hardest thing for me to do my whole life
i always felt like i was being swept up roughly by an ocean wave
i would grapple with the demons that lived in the deepest parts of my mind
just for one, just one breath
it was so difficult to fight all of the time
so hard to convince myself that it would all pay off in the end
that in due time, breathing would become easier

then i met you, and it felt like everything in the world changed
those long nights i spent alone gasping for air hour, after hour ceased to exist
the demons in the deepest part of my brain dissipated
and nothing was difficult
i stopped thinking negatively and i felt that for the first time in a long time,
that i had hope

and instead of staying up, restless at night i would lay my head down peacefully on my pillow
no more harmful thoughts
i didn't feel a pressing weight on my shoulders anymore
and for the first time in my life, my lungs weren't burning in their longing for air
air was filling them graciously and wholesomely
and thus i began to fall in love with you

we became inseparable
and the whole world seemed to know it
because we were in love, and everyone wished they had what we did
right?

in time we would realize that we weren't in love
not even close
you stopped caring and so did I
and just as quickly as we fell in love
we fell out of it
and as quickly as you seemed to heal my lungs
you damaged them again

now i try to breathe and it doesn't seem to work
my lungs are burning, desperate for air
but thats ok, because they say time heals all
and maybe instead of someone else healing me
i just need time
and i can heal myself
and breathing wont be so difficult
and the demons will permanently disappear
for now, ill just learn to forget you

sometimes it hurts to be living person
it hurts you deep in your bones
it burrows gaping holes inside of you until it reaches you heart
It doesn't stop there
it envelopes your heart
and squeezes
and squeezes
and squeezes

until it feels like you're burning from the inside out
your heart becomes a flaming ball of radiation
and slowly burns its way out of your chest
the process is gradual and agonizing
and when it finally falls out
you feel worse
your screams become louder
and louder
and louder

they become so deafening that you think people across the planet can hear you
well you're right, they can, they can hear every ailed cry
they can see every scorchingly hot tear

but don't you think, for one second, that they can feel you
don't you think, for one second that they know what it feels like to hurt, simply because you're a living person