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

skies collide with the horizon, the explosion releasing vivid colors beyond imagination
beneath this silent conflict lies humanity! a small, insignificant force that likes to think it's doing something
despite the strange lack of free will hidden in their consciousness

admiring the aesthetic of the world
and calling it the work of a god
experimenting with these things they call feelings
finding what boosts certain chemicals in their brains
and calling it love
destroying the world
and making it their own
despite it not being any better than the original

individuals who try to write a better history
are rejected by a void of ears who do not understand
the importance of their words
quiet eyes stare blankly at their screens and their textbooks
impressionable minds stamped with the mark of society's own brainwashed

no one addresses the flaws
they are tucked down low
so no one can find them
the children
who still think
they are stamped with defective
forced into schools
round pegs trying to fit into square holes
forced in submission
by the people

humanity!
according to them, the best thing that has ever happened on earth

everyone's heard the phrase
"it'll get better with time"
"it'll get worse before it gets better"
i ask you
how much time?
sure, time will stitch up past scars
but it's not worth much when
those scars reopen with even more pressing wounds
growing gorier with every new year
every happy birthday to you, here's your present
another year of depression and broken hearts
don't delude yourself with hopes for the future
nothing will happen unless you let it
happiness may be temporary
but it's a welcome respite from the constant dreariness of life

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.

the words that flow from my fingers
when had they turned into other's?
as i sit and type
mindlessly staring into space as
letters materialize on the black keys
i realize that these words
are being parroted
i am like a megaphone
taking someone else's voice
and projecting it further
spreading the idea
but never speaking by myself

music flows through
tangled earbuds
at 2am
glazed over eyes
trying not to think of
tomorrow

you took my ***** and cluttered house of nightmares
and you cleaned and you renovated
until it became a house for us two
clean and fresh as long as you are here
you purified my soul
drove away the ache of addiction
and replaced it with a constant longing for your kisses
i have grown and flourished around you
as if you were my oxygen and i had been kept in a glass jar for so long
i can finally take a breath
thanks for staying babe
happy valentines day.

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.

raindrops splatter on the ground
shattering into thousands of fragments
splattering on the flooded ground and drenched umbrellas
desolate gray skies surrounding a dead city
peaceful in its misery
lights shine dimmer, shrouded in a blanket of water
a muted city of monochrome colors

shaded under an overpass
hot styrofoam cups cupped in shivering hands
noodles slurped up to the rhythm of the rain
wooden chopsticks and thirsty throats chasing cheap food
slight kick of spice mixed with warmth in bottomless stomachs
excited smiles and quiet jokes
protecting the sanctity of the diluted sounds of life
teenage foolishness leading to soaking wet jackets and rosy cheeks
cigarettes inhaled under the safety of the cement above

i sit at an open window,
dreaming of those days
nostalgia filling my veins and
nothing feels as bittersweet as the
smell of an open ramen cup and the taste of nicotine on my tongue
time stays still for the rain.

how bright can a star
shine until its fluorescent
heart explodes to dust?

he met a princess.
deep in the lush woods,
cool breeze caressing their flushed cheeks.
warm and comfortable as the leaves rustled.
he met a princess dressed in
tattered garments and ***** skin.
wide-eyed in astonishment,
her eyes were a chocolate brown.
she was nothing like the fairy tales--
she didn't wear a beautiful dress
embroidered with flowers and covered in pink.
she didn't have delicate features,
nor an escort of any kind.
her lips were chapped from being outside
and she wasn't skinny as a twig.
yet her personality was shining
her eyes lit up while she laughed
and reminded him of comfort and home.
the smell of her perfume and shampoo
became special, became hers.
their hands interlocked not-so-perfectly,
but they made it work, in their own
clumsy, clumsy fashion.

and she was a princess,
because he treated her so.

frantic shaking,
reaching for one more
death stick, held tight in pale fingers
frantic and muttering
sallow cheeks and sunken eyes
flick, swish, light
inhale, exhale
the shaking slows
calm spreads, tendrils seeping through a husk of a body
smoke unfurls through the air

im addicted.

emotions are pushed
behind a wall of glass
where they yell,
pounding at the barrier
but they are muffled
hardly interfering
with my apathetic mind.

i've never thought of myself as a poet
maybe it's because i don't view my forced out words
on the same level of light, rhythm, and desperation
that i have grown to view poetry with
these words do not rhyme
they are not eloquent, they are not loving
they are not warm with happiness
nor sick with depression
they are empty husks and they resemble their author
they speak of things they have not experienced
they long for things they will never attain
they flounder through the darkness with no guide
for these words are lost
in the blank expanse of my mind
i've never thought of myself as a poet
because i can never get the words just right
to bare my soul in front of the world
and say "this is mine."

at five years old
they attached a machine to my brain
they said it would help my future
and i would grow from having it
they activated it,
Monday through Friday
8 to 3
and i ended up despising it
it made me lose control
slip into a character that lived to impress others
and i couldn't think for myself
it leeched off of my body's energy for its battery
and drained it quickly
they said it'll be over eventually
be glad you have it,
at least you don't have to go into
the "real world" yet
the machine never gave rewards
only punishments
they called the machine

school.

bile rises to the top of my throat
nails scratching at unblemished skin
red streaks fade to white
hyperventilating,
quick and unsteady
knock back sleeping pills but still not asleep
more and more and more and more until

put me on a surgical table
you wont be able to find whats wrong until you dissect my brain
gray matter twisted and poisoned
corrupted by irrationality
fake eyes stare blankly at the bright ceiling lights
awake as you slide the scalpel
sensual as you smoothly cut me open
i wonder what it feels like
to handle a dead body with such care
your gloved fingers are gentle against my dead skin
my brain is in a jar
test subject #2999
the only thing i ever accomplish is in death

breath hitched in the back of my throat,
sharp nails digging into the pale flesh of my palm
flushed cheeks and down-turned eyes
chewing on plump lips with pointed canines
afraid to look up but
his finger pushes my chin up
delicately,
he leans in.

i fall into his trap.

s stands for the way you stood
   looking at my face as if it were the most disgusting thing you'd ever
   seen
   cuts marring my face and
   blood dripping down my cheek
   despite how much i tried to make myself beautiful for you
u stands for the way you spat useless
   followed by a vicious smack resounding around the room that was ours
   im sorry i didnt know you were coming home so early please give me
   10 minutes ill make dinner for you then how about you watch the game
   for now? please stop hurting me i dont know what happened to you
i stands for the way you innocently
   claimed that i was the reason for all our hardships
   and the reason for why our son had committed suicide
   acting as if you hadnt abused him until the day he died
   while i lay on the floor, passed out
d stands for the way you delighted
   in watching the basketball game while i had a panic attack in the corner
   shivering and whimpering for you to please help me my medicines in
   the medicine cabinet, please, please, please i think im dying, please,
   wouldn't someone save me?
a stands for the way you accidentally
   hit me the first night
   and then the second
   and then the third
   and then every day until
   you didnt even bother to call it an accident anymore
l stands for the way you left
   without a single regret
   leaving me, your once-beautiful wife
   destroyed by you
suicidal stands for the way you
   shattered me into a million pieces
   and forever fractured my identity

speak up against abuse.

long since have we left behind
peaceful naivete and tight pigtails
gradually adjusting to a harsher world
progressively preparing us for
what they call real
and what we call hell
where did our quiet trusting go?
was it left behind with the
colors of our happiness?
did it leave when our hearts got broken
or when we began to love for the first time?
i miss our understanding of life
constant curiosity and wonder
when we looked at the world and it gave us knowledge
now we look at the world and it gives us debt
with the turning of every year
new children are indoctrinated
screens used as babysitters instead of books
learning how to spell youtube on an ipad
before learning how to say "mama"
dont mistake this poem for a condemnation on electronics
rather, a condemnation on parents
unused to any method other than the age of technology
they slowly grow more attached to their computers rather than their parents
for the computers took better care of them
than the people who gave them life

twisted hearts
malnourished and desperate for love
find solace in each other
reaching out with longing
not for each other,
but for a semblance of affection
sick in their selfishness
quietly resenting themselves for their hunger
satisfy physical needs
build an illusion of emotions
convince themselves that their illusion is real
live this life of pretend
until you believe it is reality.

there's a thorn
stuck in my brain
i think it's from that rose you gave me
last valentine's day
and then laughed and took it away
play jokes on the pitiful one
who sleeps in the corner of the classroom
and draws all over her hands
when you stole it from my grasp and
handed it gently to another
i laughed
because that thorn was already sinking through my flesh
the pain was fine
i just wondered how long it would take to
become impossible to remove
i suppose now's the time
when i've already tried to take it
out from my head
but no
it has to stubbornly remain
in my head
it's very much like you.

like a mask,
your expression fit perfectly
on top of your features
a perfect poker face
your shield against the world

i had been the one to break it
with confiding secrets
expertly timed jokes
awkward blushes and
desperate kisses
slowly, slowly
it faded when you were with me

i regret
being the cause for your mask
to rise up again

deep eye bags set deep within my skull
it's nighttime and i cannot sleep
my brain rushes ahead at supersonic speed
excitedly greeting the moon
enjoying its time around the stars while
i sit, procrastinating
attempting to deny the reality
of sunday night means monday morning is soon
sunday night yet the pages are still fresh white
graphite markings are yet to be found
printing pages filled with *******
and writing answers with no real meaning
no one is awake at 3 am
except the night owls

its 4am and my
overly active imagination has caused my body to **** out of sleep once more
picturing scenes too vivid to be true

i see his face in my nightmares,
****** fingers stretching his skin like putty
molding it into another's
crimson dying pale white

i feel his hands,
gently pulling me apart
my skin bursts into two and my organs spill out of my stomach
gruesome and brutally nauseating

i hear screams,
piercing through the dark night
hollow eye sockets black and empty,
tortured girls with knives

i taste poison,
running down my throat
an aphrodisiac that made my body long for death
dehydrated, i thirst for more

i smell carnage,
carrion wafting through the air
as i stand in lie on a hospital bed
illuminated by a single light
dead bodies surrounding my still figure

i soon follow


i **** awake,
it's only a dream
but i can see the blood on my hands
smell the scent of rot
my throat burns,
and my stomach has scars
my ears ring with screams
and it doesn't feel like
"just a dream"

falling in love
is the most beautiful thing you could ever do
wrap yourself in the tendrils of
affection and bask in the pools of intimacy
cheeks alight with faint blushes and
eager eyes stealing glimpses from across a classroom
happily obliging to foolish requests
exaggerated laughter and embarrassed whimpers
let your heart plunge deeper and deeper until you finally realize
oh **** i'm in love
and with a shock you absorb this information slowly
attempting to process your feelings
fear of rejection creeps behind your back
lurking ominously while optimism fights it off
taking smiles as wonderous gifts
giggles as marvelous music
and every brush of skin contact as
electrifying
indeed,
falling in love is a phenomenon
that humans take for granted

false ignorance paints my face
politely declining fate's open hand
knowingly descending into the world of hatred
of sin and lust and thievery
i smile and kiss the devil's cheek
intertwine our fingers together and
delicately, he leads me to my damnation

relapse into
pain,
sharp teeth and razor blades
armed with self-hatred and nothing more but
the intense need for
pain,
masochism overtaking common sense
punishing my body for things others say
silently begging for
pain,
an attention ***** and a ****
if you self-harm then you're just desperate
why not just **** yourself and save all that
pain,
nails clawing at pale backs
bent over porcelain toilets at 5am
casually vomiting the contents of half-filled stomachs
from the day before
obsessed with
pain,
i don't like pain
but it's what i deserve.

the mirror reflects my
fake, plastic skin
with my
fake, plastic eyes
there's no luster in them
no life behind the eyes of a doll
of a puppet with
no knowledge of the world
unable to learn through
the human method of trial and error
and so it keeps repeating
the same mistakes
until it ruins its plastic skin
and breaks its plastic eyes
and destroys its plastic heart

slowly, anxiously
sinking teeth into orange flesh
applying tension until
Pop!
tangy sweetness explodes
flooding and covering eager tongues
delicate seeds emerging,
juice-soaked and round
wide grins and sticky hands
first tangerines of the summer

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

it feels like a rush of euphoria
zipping down my veins
comfortably settling into the tension of my body
seeping away into the covers
slowly,
i ignore my responsibilities
thoughts and fears
dip a hand into the music
submerge my small body
into the vast ocean of sounds
and carefully, quietly
succumb to the psychedelic dreams
with the gentle waves of calming music
my only defense against them turning to nightmares.

nostalgia fills my veins
like a drug, i am addicted
to reliving the past
and ignoring the present
until, it too,
becomes old enough for me to look back fondly
at this memory that has been touched
with the bittersweet filter
nostalgia puts on my memories

don't smile
or they'll find you
they'll find your weaknesses
and they'll hurt you
don't speak
for every word tumbling
carelessly from your fragile lips
will become your worse enemy
don't cry
they'll hurt you even more
it'll be their incentive
to do it even more
even as your body is
wrecked beyond compare
sew your lips together
with needle and thread
don't scream
they love it when you scream
they love it when your throat grows hoarse
and they keep going even though you
can't even whimper
in defense
don't resist
there's no use
there's no purpose
no one cares
you could die
and they wouldn't bat an eye
one punching bag gone
would mean one more to
take your place
suffer so no one else needs to
be theirs
they've marked you
as their own
despite the sick relationship
you are theirs
succumb to their wrath
and serve to their will

open your bible
and pretend that you are not gay
sing songs in the church choir
smile and clap after the priest
finishes his sermon about
those **** homosexuals and their filthy sins!
but they find out anyways
god doesnt love you
no one does

i smell like ***
a lingering aftertaste of pleasure
your cologne and your love
mixed on my skin
panting breaths ghosting over my stomach
hands tangled in short hair
i smell like gentle touches
guiding my hips in a furious dance
unbridled pleasure sparking through my veins
fueling my desperate desire
hit ******-- hit the top of the atmosphere
euphoric fireworks create a messy picture
intimacy is the best way of expressing affection
i smell like ***
i smell like you

there's no optimism in life
raised expectations will only lead to fallen outcomes
life isn't a rollercoaster
life doesn't take you on a joyride
moving up and down through the good and bad
life is existentialism
adapting to gradually harder stages
barely making it through
suffering along the way
do what you enjoy and the industry destroys your ambition
at one point you realize you gave up on your dreams
think back on this poem
the world's most pessimistic poet.

START GAME?
>yes
.the scene opens up to the main character typing away on their computer.
READ?
>yes
        .pixelated world
        .terrifyingly bland
        .if i reach my hand through the veil,
        .will i finally break free of reality?
        .i feel like a video game character
        .filled with predestined routes
        .numbers make my existence possible
        .my world is l-la%#gGi)ng
        .my brain cannot keep up with
        .the prospect of li@Vi$#nG(
        .free will is impossible in a
        .V(IdE@)!O G#*$AM(#"E
THIS PROGRAM HAS SHUT DOWN.
RESTART?
>yes
.the character is speaking.
        [why can't you just leave me to die?]
.the character is staring straight at you.
EXIT GAME?
>no
.the character is clawing at their skin.
       [i need to escape. please let me escape.]
EXIT GAME?
>no
.the character's skin is melting off.
      [when will it be the end? when will my soul leave this game? i'm sick and
        tired of playing! it hurts! it hurts! everything hurts!]
EXIT GAME?
>no
.the character is dying. their mouth continues to move.
     [when it says THE END, don't restart.]
.their hands claw at the other side of the screen.
.their hands fall on the floor.
.there is nothing left.
EXIT GAME?
>no
.the screen resets.
.the character is sitting on their bed, facing the screen.
.their eyes are blank.
.it's time for school.
GET UP?
>yes
.the character stands.
.the character smiles.
.the character shoots themselves.
THE END
RESTART?
>...
>yes

[is this nothing but a game to you?
stop playing with me.
i am done with suffering.]

.the character is done with living in a predestined world.

X YOUR COMPUTER HAS CRASHED.


        .

screams scraping their way
out of my abused throat
terrified; raw and primal
pale lines clawed across my cheeks
nails jagged and bitten down
hangnails pulled to reveal
red, vulnerable flesh
coughs wracking my sick form
head thrashing, gasping pants heaving slim chest
up and down, up and down

an image taunts my vision
a picture of two serene people,
so totally in love you can feel it from the photograph
clammy hands desperately reach for it
reach for you, the imaginary version
the one where my arms wont grab at air when reaching for a hug
where my hands wont curl into fists
at seeing you love everyone but me
where broken sobs dont echo through the empty bathroom
and bile doesnt get flushed down the toilet
where i am not so isgusting
where you do not despise me

you're not mine to keep
nor the one to blame
but still,
this love is driving me ******* insane.

lollipop pursed between plump lips
windswept purple hair against dim blue skies
billowing clouds soar ahead
sweater sleeves draped over the palms of your hands
your eyes curved upwards in a smile
round gold frames of thick glasses sparkle in the sunset
pale cheeks dusted with rosy blush
earbuds in, mouth open
song bursting from your core

it may be cheesy, but i love you.
i was banished from your heart long ago, but you still reside in mine.
happy valentines day.

From,
your bittersweet ex who still dreams of your kisses.

please help my
eyes focus once again
please help pull
my brain out of the well it's dug for itself
because it dug itself too deep
and now it's drowning in a lethargic gray
you cant be saved unless you want to be saved
i didnt know how much i missed
listening without a heavy buzz over the underwater sounds
seeing without lights magnified thanks to diluted pupils
tasting without tongue feeling like a weight and all food the same, ugly flavor
talking without the mumbled incoherence that comes with having too much
smelling without the numbed scent of faint perfumes and then nothing
i want to listen to your mellifluous laughter
i want to see your bright eyes sparkle with excitement
i want to taste milkshakes with shared straws
i want to talk like a human, make jokes and laugh
i want to smell your perfume and hold your hand
won't you help me sober up?
i was in love with my addiction but now im in love with you.

ugly crying at 4am
choking the liquid out of ugly glass beer bottles
inhale lines of snowy bliss
only to come down an hour later with a pounding headache
inject euphoria into pale arms
polka dotted with needle marks and marred by mottled bruises
take the heart filled with tiny seams and split it in two
laugh because yeah, that's what i deserve
line after line, day after day
when my luck runs out i'll finally be free
i wouldn't **** myself but i wouldn't save myself if i was dying
**** all day and all night because on crack it feels like heaven
wake up from od'ing with a seizure and with the broken streetlight flickering above my head
cracked sobs and tearing at hair because
i dont deserve to live