one day they'll scream so much
that the frail foundations of this house will collapse completely
the relationships that had built the support beams
would break in two
the shell of a house that had once been
a refuge and a safe space for its inhabitants
is now quivering on its frail boards
constant attacks forced a once lavish mansion to diminish into a rotten shack
growing more and more rundown as
sand dripped down the hourglass until the final blow
apprehensively
we awaited the dreadful day

the papers have been signed
the house collapses to the ground

childhood memories are
speckled with the scent of summer sunsets
formed with the bonds of friendship
and late night promises with giggling faces

childhood memories are
climbing crooked trees in the spring
the smell of freshly cut grass
and sleeping in until 10

childhood memories are
snowflakes blinding the humongous ski goggles
pressed against the large frames of thick glasses
and the promise of hot chocolate by a cozy fire

childhood memories are
marred by the yelling from downstairs
tightened faces and clenched fists
shattered glass and crimson splattered on beige tiles

childhood memories are
earbuds plugged tight in small ears
books clutched in trembling hands
herding confused brothers up creaking steps

childhood memories are
sadness leaking from the soul
withdrawal into the land of silence
an unhealthy obsession with escaping into fiction

childhood memories are
nostalgic
terrifying
what shaped me to be me

when i was little,
everyone told me that i could be whatever i wanted to be
and that was that
i thought that once you graduated college
you would get a job right away
and it would be the best thing in your life
but as i got older
people told me to not be an author at all
so i became a pessimistic writer
with spiteful views on overly optimistic subjects
but life is taking its toll on my soul
the worst part about being human
is the feeling of knowing your thoughts are slipping away
knowing your creativity is pouring itself down the drain
yet not being bothered enough to care
for in this day and age
we are taught that this is normal
of course it is for despite creativity being smiled upon
everyone knows there is no way you can make it in the real world
with your silly little poems and your
fantasy short stories
your words are meaningless if no one wishes to read them
get an office job if you like working alone so much
besides, you spend all day in front of your computer anyways
stop complaining!
be glad you can even read and write
you can be whatever you want to be
just as long as it's not a writer

restrained by values
that are not mine,
i struggle to rid myself
of these bonds that chain my sanity
and beat it until it no longer recognizes itself
however,
it is growing difficult
to resist constantly
the only reward is my freedom
which constantly is snatched from my grasp
it's repetitive
to keep fighting for myself
wouldn't it be much easier to just give up?
stop trying to resist?
but if i do,
i will no longer be able
to find my home
i will no longer be able
to find the ones i love
they will be lost
along with my soul

you left me fumbling
uncomfortably attempting to adjust my ideas
as you carefully slipped yourself out of the
home you had made in my heart,
you left no note
although you owed me nothing
i still felt betrayed

god, i've written so many poems about you
despite the fact that you'll never read them
thinking about you tears my chest in half
and i keep reopening the wound
you were never mine to begin with
but when i see you with others
i grow irrationally jealous
it's been so long
but time cannot heal all wounds

selfishly i wonder
what if you had been mine?

aim for the stars while you can
still pull your bow back far enough
for your arrow to reach.
take advantage of your resources while
they're still in your possession.
educate your mind while
white noise does not scatter your thoughts
like interrupted radio waves.
fill your pages with
inked words and doodled pictures while
creativity leaks out of your soul with age.
keep your love in your thoughts while
you are able to feel.
allow curiosity to flow while
others attempt to cap it.

keep reaching to be your best.
you can do it.

despite
a corrupt system
despite
a corrupt society
despite
being controlled by the media
despite
our lack of questioning
our lack of creativity
our lack of thought
despite
our lives
we live them like sheep
content with what we have
and terrified of change

despite
the people we have become
we cannot overthrow those who have
controlled us for so long
we are so unused to
thinking for ourselves
that no one is able
to rule their minds

a reset button would be handy
but we will continue to make the same mistakes
over and over again
do not be content with what you have
always strive for more
question everything
your life will become
immensely more difficult
but at least you are learning
at least you are forming your own thoughts

the pack system is great for survival
but we no longer need to rely on each other
it is not a matter of life and death to think
relieve yourself of the pack mindset
and set your thoughts free
you have constricted them for so long
they no longer know how to function properly

in my use of words
i hope that someone will stop and listen
despite the crazy, almost radical mindset
that is portrayed as terrifyingly dangerous to society
i am but a child
with thoughts still roaming free