I am lost.
Yet,
Something is telling me you are just like me.
Maybe
We were put in the darkness
To find each other.

I love you
not because
you're good looking

I love you
not because
you're caring

I love you
not because
you dote on me

I love you
not because
your smiles are sweet

I love you
not in lust
of your crevice
or orifice
or skin

I love you
because
without you
I feel

incomplete within.

every morning i wake up
aching

eyes closed
i count out my fingers
and toes

still there when i open
my eyes i know

it is you
that is missing

I wanted to write a poem about flowers, so that's what I did.
It was short, expressed how I feel, and cut like glass.
I showed my father "Flowers" and he thought it was mediocre.
And I said, "No, "Mediocre" is the poem where I talk about dying,
and I'm trying to stay alive, so I wrote about flowers."

Flowers strangling soil plots with their roots, with their existence.
And to hurt something you love with your existence is a terrible feeling.

On this night I drown my sorrows, so cliche
But whiskey is a great friend
But I drink to an occasion this night
The occasion being, me.
Thanking all the socially unaccepted kids people frown upon
The ones the popular ones despise
The outcast
Rebels
Castaways
Whatever you may call Us
Maybe it's friends
Maybe it's enemies
Although we'll never be the ones that control the world
We will try our best to save it from itself
Society itself has eroded earth more than all the water and wind in the universe
The ones who destroy it complain about the society they've created
While Us
The outcast
Rebels
Castaways
We try to save it
But are frowned upon for doing so
Maybe our world is doomed
But we'll never give up.
I toast to all of you tonight
The outcast
Rebels
castaways