do not undermine my intellect
and mistake my age for my IQ
"this is pretty good for someone of your age"
"i'm surprised someone of your age would be able to think of this"
"go play with some dolls; let the grownups handle this stuff"
do not look down on my writing
as if it is already immature
according to the number assigned to my years
i may be young
but i am not a fool
i understand that there is
still plenty room for growth in my
awkwardly placed phrases
my tilted words fit into a spot where they do not belong
my hesitant spacing
hoping that the reader will understand the meaning
behind the way that i write
however
do not view my poems as a work in progress
but rather my mind
for judging based on appearances
is undermining the importance
of my maturity

school ***** the life out of my brain
until there is nothing left
to write

i am a self conscious robot in a sleeping society
a single person against many
i realize my monotonous days are being spent as a waste
i realize my blatant apathy is taken as acceptance
to live in a world of grays and repetitiveness

if i pulled my heart out of my chest,
you would find nothing of worth
but if you pulled my brain out of my head,
flourishing ideas are sprouting
despite the hard soil that it grows in
they are planted in the basis of society
and continue to grow due to individual thought
not many refuse to parrot back the words of the past
and try to write the future

"respect your elders, they are wiser than you"
we have grown up on decades of
teaching children on how to be quiet
creative minds are silenced
yet i continue to go to school
and do the work expected

i realize all the faults
but what can one person do?

commitment feels like
drowning, attached to the ankle to a person
who you had once known so well but
now it's starting to feel
boring.
it's not a wild trip anymore
excitedly going day through day with
this singular person
who you had found so much joy in
you no longer experience that rush
of exhilaration with every touch
now you are handcuffed
attached forever
to this...
burden.
although you feel guilty
for thinking in such a way
about a person you are supposed to
care, and love
you feel stuck
unable to move any longer
thanks to a foolish decision
called commitment.

i can see
your eyes are
drifting
far away
and they'll never
look back
at me

my suicide note will read
"you'll love the memory of me
more than you love the me now"
overdose or bleeding out on the bathroom floor
i've yet to decide.
my body forms out of static, quietly buzzing
as i lie dying
and my chapped lips will curve into a smile
as i realize death is not as peaceful
as it seems to be.

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

god,
don't romanticize my scars
the crisscross reminder of my past sorry
agony and nightmares
silvery-white and healed long since
accepted but not loved
don't spout metaphors
on how you can cure me--because you can't
don't romanticize my mental illness
but be my right hand man
when i do war against it.

splattering footsteps dash
rare LA rain descending in puddles
a 7/11,
a cigarette,
a lighter
he removes the hood
revealing curved horns
clawed fingers flicking until
he lights the cigarette,
takes a smoke.

sopping wet demon in the cool rain
his yellow eyes flash with boredom
abandoned by heaven and ****** into
the hell called 'earth'.

we sprouted wings
reckless in our adolescent love
we flew into the sun
attracted by its warmth
we reached for affection and found one another
in times of uncertainty and change
we grasped onto the slim love we had
and forced it to sprout
to grow into a flower
that wilted after several months
we became heedless
of the warnings given to us
we moved too fast
and did flips through the air
because everything was alright
until we burnt and fell
a flaming meteor,
finally returning back to earth
"us" died a spectacular death
tragic and full of lessons

but
we have a second chance
we have learned our lesson
we have grown up and matured
and now
we can use our wings
to soar peacefully together
without touching the sun
we can fly at our own pace
we can embrace without caring
about the consequences
we are the legends that made it
icarus watches us from above,
and calls us angels.

the people stop and stare
but make no attempt to help
the tiny girl behind the glass
being tortured by her loneliness
personified by the ghosts

they think it is a play
that my shackles are for show
but i am certain that
my rubbed-raw wrists
and tear-stained cheeks
are nothing short of real

im starving but they dont know
that when i yell they laugh
my throat is fading cracks
and my mind is flat blanks
the inky black of night
creeps on my lifeless soul
to kidnap me
take me away
once
and for all.

im in the best place in the world
so why do i feel like im drowning?
why do i feel so detached and
empty?
why cant i just be happy
like a normal person
all these people around me are happy
they're going to notice that i'm a fake
an imposter in my own skin
does my smile look okay?
it hurts my face muscles to do this
but i'm a good actor
i can keep it up for a little while longer.

his heart is porcelain
his heart is filled with love
(his heart is full of tiny cracks
his heart is silenced above)

his lips are soft and comfy
his lips are filled with passion
(his lips are being sewn shut
his lips are cold and ashen)

his eyes are warm and dreamy
his eyes are filled with happiness
(his eyes are hollowed out and hungry
his eyes are blank and cavernous)

thank you for taking care of him!
he looks so full of joy
(what have you done to him?
my sweet band-aid boy
my love, my friend, my aid
his life has gone to shatters
his soul is shut and frayed)

i'll see you off, little girl
i'll pat you on the head
(bring back my band-aid boy
you filled him with such dread
bring back my band-aid boy
you killed him and left him dead)

empower
the women
but don't
hurt the men.

love
the choice
but respect
the stay.

believe
your heart
but understand
the brain.

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

was compliant
but wanted to be defiant
unsure of her alliance
so she stayed in her compliance
she stayed in her silence
on her man did she stay reliant
to keep quiet was her only assignment
her boyfriend was her tyrant
her own identity was a lie and
as she saw the horizon
she became a lion;
and rid herself of her relationship

triumphant.

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.

iridescent moon
reflected light permeating through darkness
projected through pitch-black rooms
a solace for the paranoid
the afraid, the alone
quietly standing by
a beacon of protection
against the monsters of the night.

so,
this is the end?
have i finally snapped the tightrope string
swung a chainsaw to my consciousness
has my brain reached the end of its tether?

will my heart stop beating
or will my mind become dead
the latter would hurt more than the former
living like a mindless zombie
is worse than dying fresh and alive
i feel my grip on reality
loosening gradually

i am drowning in responsibilities
i didnt sign up to take
i am reeling in impossibilities
that are my own mistake
i feel myself escaping
quietly erasing
what used to be me
and replacing
with thoughts not my own
thoughts made for me
and a predetermined future
with no hope residing inside

head pounds
overwhelming nausea
music does little but
make my head pulse with pain
cant think
fragmented sentences
need to write but
cant think of anything but head
hurts
want to sleep
head feels like
its going to explode

if you starved all the hope from a body
if you deprived a soul of love
if you stole the sun away from a blooming rose
you would be left with a husk
a dried thing that keeps living for the sake of monotony
and will die soon without sustenance
substitute solutions have been provided
drugs, forced relationships, a light
but none have given the authentic heart
needed for the thing to survive
and so it will die
tortured by its prolonged lifespan
with the wrong substances for it to
gain what it had lost

fickle hearts yearn for affection
latching onto each other with wavering devotion
dancing the dance of teenage emotion
sensual; even the slightest touch causes *******

bouts of sadness stirred in with monotonous days
excitement numbed; eyes dull
drilling useless facts into empty skulls
sunshine drifts through windows with emotionless rays

technology created with constant evolution
information spoon-fed by media
words like "morals" need an encyclopedia
together we cry with constant revolution

they fight for
their god, their rights
together we cry for justice
because tonight is our night.

manipulated by the blue screens
illuminating slack faces in the dark
white earbuds quieting the terrifying world
dimming the sounds of reality creeping closer
numbing the terrifying prospect of
what happens after the normalcy of school ends
ignoring the manipulation
tied to their screens with red strings
hand-fed pretentious words with no substance
swallowing them whole and vomiting them back up to other screens
accepting facts at face value, no questions asked
the 21st century.

when you tell me you like my poems
i wonder if you are scared for my mental health
i wonder that this glimpse into the dark twisted forest that is my mind
that you will run away from me
i wonder if you want to be involved with a mess
like myself
who rants through poetry by putting myself into the shoes of made up people with made up faces and made up scenarios
i wonder if you want to know what im really thinking
i wonder if your smile will disappear if i drag you into this neverending void of what am i doing what am i doing maybe i should die?
i wonder if you realize that what i say is fake and im just a really really good actor and maybe i should try out for hollywood im that good at faking my feelings
i wonder if you will read this and realize that yes this too is also fake i am putting myself in the shoes of a desperate lover with mental illness injected into their brain, an iv drip attached to their wrist feeding them pain and suffering instead of healing and love
i wonder if you will ever be a real person, if this ambiguous you will become a he or a she or an i love
i wonder if you would ever accept the problems i hold or if you'll grow tired of my constant whining, like everyone else
i wonder if you will treat me like a delicate piece of porcelain just because i have mental problems, or if you'll treat me like a scrap of paper left on the floor of an abandoned classroom
i wonder if you will ever care if i died

when you tell me you like my poems
i smile and say thank you! i'll be writing more, so keep in touch.

i realize i
will never be able to love you
the way you wish to be loved
i am not
a person to attach to
i am too afraid of you leaving
to appreciate you staying

slowly retreating into a previous shell
tearing off painted on skin to reveal fragile vulnerability
taking its place on my face
straight lined apathy mixed with sorrow replacing
bright, faked smiles covered in exhaustion
it feels too much--is it time to stop pretending?
as winter turns to spring
the world is blooming in newness but nothing has changed in my mind
progress is turning backwards,
i'm undoing myself all over again
wrists stained with marks of harm and
bottomless eyes filled with nothing but tiredness
my depression floods the shore with its darkness
sweeping away sleep and love
self-care and memory fades
this episode will pass eventually but
if only i had someone to help me
swim through the waves
and away from the swiftly moving tides of insanity.

we cant have an opinion
until someone with a bigger voice
better personality and dominant position in society
says something about it
which is why
instead of summaries, reviews of famous authors
newspapers and companies are printed on the covers of books
quotes stolen from filmmakers out of context
advertised in movie trailers
celebrities used as poster-people for ads
the people we look up to
are used as marketing tools
their words taking over ours
until we take them as fact

slowly,
the sky we shared together
shattered into frozen blue
pale and icy, just like your face
when i said
i didn't love you
i'm sorry, it's my fault
but i couldn't take it any more
stealing the love from your heart
when there were others that could kiss you better
without seeing it as a chore
i feel as though i am a leech
taking your life source
selfishly, jealously
as if you meant nothing to me
but a lover once loved
but now,
no more.

time saved my soul
in the way only desperate lovers can
my eyes no longer filled with tears
i can smile again

blank, glassy black eyes
reflect my horrendous sins
i indulge in pain

to the new
hello
welcome to this abyss of
what the **** am i doing
welcome to this strange
mesh of late night thoughts
strung haphazardly on a thin line
barely connecting their significance
welcome to this pretentious
room of poetry where
everyone believes they are the best
they know the most
they are the romanticizers of
toxic waste
the ones who find the heartbroken
in the silence
the ones who
inflate their ego through likes and comments
welcome to this crazy
pit of society
where no one understands where they belong
and everyone is an actor
welcome new one
i see that you have much to learn
take my hand;
i'll show you the way

alarmed waves crash down
as metal screens slam shut
my brain suddenly darkens
body still, frozen in panic
fractured light breaks into a multitude of
mocking fireflies; taunting my vision with their rapid movement
images transition to harsh duplicates, swaying back and forth
eyes unfocused and darting
where's the esca p  e? i n   e  e   d t  o es    c  a        p       e
my words are drifting away from me
i'm going to die
i'm going to die
draw in short harsh breaths
that wrack my lungs
shaking with fear
i'll die here
in this hospital room
the heart monitor going wild
beeps personified
to lead me into the darkness

would it have been easier if
we hadn't touched the tips of our paintbrushes into the deep puddles of our secrets and paint them out into 3 am portraits?
i hadn't flung my heart out into the greedy sea that is your soul?
our surrendering of ourselves to each other hadn't ended in a glorious catastrophe of flaming tears and betrayed smiles?

would it have been easier if we had never met?

i should have carved the poison out of my soul when it was first fresh and new
but now, even though im choking on my own blood,
i still love the taste

you helped mold me to be this way,
although it was my fault for being so pliant,
you forced me into a machine with impulsive decisions and faucet eyes, a robot with all the negative emotions
and then you threw me away, because im a defect
number 0-01, the first failure out of many
later you'll finally create the one that is lovable
without thinking twice about the ones you broke

my words may sound like a lover's heartbreak
a snapping between two worlds
but the only love here is between life and myself
life plays the role of the abusive partner, pushing and pulling whenever it seems fit
controlling my world and my body like puppet strings
i let it because it was what knew best for me, right?
because filling my body with liquid fire and sticks of smoke is the only way out?
because im too hopeless and terrified to make my own path, to forge a new future, and rely on life's arm to guide the way
and as i do so i watch silently as death comes to take those around me, drifting further and further away for each fallen
i watch as i die in front of myself
and the shell that is left is only a fragment of my mind

unfortunately,
i fall too hard and too fast
hurtling from the top of my dignity to the unrelenting floor of rejection
without even saying a word a switch snaps and my heart
flings itself into the claustrophobic abyss of love
but love is such a pretty word for such a corrupt ideal
love has become my chains
and the target of my affection becomes my jailer

do not take these words to your heart because they do not mean much at all
simply the ramblings of a madman

he is the manifestation of spontaneous elegance
****** features changing fluidly; reassuringly
actions are performed unhesitatingly
his positive optimism is punctuated by
an ever-cheery smile, forming his eyes into crescents
kind and benevolent,
he seems to bless a room with a simple entrance
so when he desperately avoids my gaze,
i wish i had done something different
a beautiful songbird like him
hadn't deserved to be kept in a cage with me
i'm glad he's been set free
yet i selfishly seek him out
longing for the trills of the sweet song
that is my former lover.

my life is a fragrant mess
filled with scents of the musty past
my head is dizzy with all the smells
that hit me with a blast
the moment i unchain the locked door
to the room with the perfumes
my legs shake
and collapse to the floor
overcome by deja vu
my memories are sad
tinged with a shade of blue
my memories are rarely happy
and none of them are new
for my life is morose and grim
saddened with self-pity
i write poetry to remind myself
life isn't all that pretty
i sit among a field of flowers
quietly picking stems
of those i find the ugliest
those i press to leather books
and to history i condemn
one for every broken heart
one for every locked door
one for every kiss we shared
until we fell apart.

my throat is on fire
clenching twisted words
withholding wicked truths
not meant to be revealed
burning silently in rage
will the blaze consume my voice
before it hurts another?

a single movement can cause
ripples throughout the world
an inspiration can
take temporary control
of the fluid human mind
inspire uprising and
fight for what is yours
take possession of the world
and make it into what you think
it should be
instead of complaining about
what you would do if
you could do something
use the public to your advantage
and become the ruler of a
corrupted society

drift through the air
wonder if anyone knows you are there
sob with defeat as the wind sighs
you are a ghost, forever silent.

my
head is aching
my
throat is raw
my
eyes are listless
my
mouth is shut
my
heart is empty

is that enough to please you?

restricted by form
i shall not be, not today
not while the wind blows

unrestrained in mind
bound by society in
body and my will

however i still
fight to keep my thoughts all mine
and allow new worlds

get
up             the stair  s
      t he   y
're com     in g pre tned
                         to be  asle e  p
                                                            i       'm
                                   s       c ar e         d


  they stumble up the stairs, alcohol on their breath and a sway to their steps

                             the real monsters are my parents

i really hope you
flourish beneath life's touch
i hope she is gentle with your heart
for with someone so unfortunate,
she must reserve a special spot for you
alongside the others
she treats your soul carelessly now,
but someday everything you have worked for
will be rewarded

they told me to explain love
despite it being such an abstract feeling
filled with colors and shapes and passion
they told me to explain love
despite how complicated and intrinsic
yet simple and plain it is
they told me to explain love
even though there have been a million before me
dedicating books and songs and poems
to this emotion that plagues us

love isn't Hollywood easy
love isn't that warm burst of heat you feel in your chest,
the need for affection and ***
love isn't a miracle-magical cure
that will rid you of all your problems
love isn't a dream come true or the best thing that ever happens
finding love isn't the endgame

love is dedication,
that heat will fade from your chest over time,
and you will still have issues in life
love will come in the form of someone
who will become your best friend,
most trusted confident that might not always understand you
but will be there for you and work it out alongside you
love will be tough
there will be arguments and bumpy roads
clashing of viewpoints between people
it's natural to fight, but you must work it out
love isn't only you,
it's a balance between both people
learning about each other
and adapting to them
as they adapt to you
love won't always be the aesthetic dream
teenagers long for in their books and movies
no YA novel will show the harsh realities of what love looks like
no Hollywood movie will break through the fantasy-fake awkward kisses
to find love, you must know what to expect
find your match, but don't have unrealistic expectations
it won't always be bubblegum and cotton candy
but it will be beautiful.

weeping hearts fill to the brim with love,
bits of happiness seeping out of the cracks
constant shadows pushing my head down
but his presence shoves them away
im not good enough for him, they say
but i can still hope anyway
i wish my heart was good enough for him
but im damaged goods
he deserves better, they say
i agree wholeheartedly but
my heart still beats fast
my eyes cant look away
and i stay away
because i couldnt touch someone like that