Stuck on your phone
colliding violently
like water and oil
but I just want you
to get up and take me
we never mixed well

and soon a gated community
is gonna be made atop of an
old hangout spot
we'd escape out our windows
to meet up at
how these times escape the tips
of our fingers

you're the georgia sun
autumn's breeze
glow in the dark
sundays
saturdays

i feel
like a sproutling
wishing
wanting
swaying in the breeze
until i begin to rustle

I don't believe in YOUR “God”.
I don’t believe in anything.
How could I?
Why would I?
They tell me to pray about it..
Pray to who?
Why would he listen?
Who is He?

All of my life,
It has been shoved down my throat.
This “religion” of sorts.
Never can I get a break.
Never.

I was taught that your “God”
Wouldn’t accept me.
That I was a disgrace.
Why would I believe in someone like that?


So, no.
No, I won’t believe.
I can’t believe.
Even if you think
I should believe.
*I won’t.

i often thought that life would falter
that the sun would set too early one day,

and everything would be gone in a flash.

what i did would be in vain,

and my story would disintegrate into a distant memory of some mysterious girl.

i wondered if it was worth it.

but life is only what you make of it,

so i try to make it memorable.

though the memories will all be gone one day,

and i will be no more.

you were
the biggest folder
in my Evernote
labeled Prolix Ranter

because I got sick
of scrolling your ****
and wanted precise
dosages

I deleted it
then swallowed
my tongue
and for so long

no words would come

then you trickled in
iridescent thought bubbles
with minds and time
all their own

I don't know
how to pop them

but they sure as ****
know how to find me

and make my fingers
crave

the pen