i want to scream at you
tell you everything you've been doing wrong for the past 17 years
you're an awkward age in an awkward place but it's all your fault
get the **** up, get the **** up
do something


















but it's really hard to break a habit
without breaking the mirror

See that's the issue with these usual issues
They get old
Really old
So old, that
Every word
I hear
Just..
Never ceases to make my ears bleed,
******* these issues,
These issues, These issues

Well ****..
Every couple of days,
Mom needs a refill of tissues

You can't break a heart that isn't healed from the last set of eyes.
A reminder from the moon to the stars
It's never too late for something beautiful
To fall from the sky
Into the palm of your hands.
There is a place across a river
Where the East meets what's west,
And all the children wait with bandages for cut wrists to heal in the sun before it sets.
I have a fear of setting in stone
Because you can only stare at the sun for so long
Before beauty and light causes tears.
Nothing beautiful,
Like an angel in the snow
Remains forever,
And I'm stuck in time
Because there's something going around the room
That I've avoided well so far
But a bird can't fly forever and neither can my heart
I have to fall at some point
Into someone one else's sun.

Where did you go?

My hands shake again.
The walls fade and try to imitate
the pale green of your eyes.

But they fail.

These walls envelop me.
Closing in. Crushing. Suffocating.
Blood spills over, but from where?

I am nobody.

My chest heaves as pain consumes me.
Pull me up from below;
Liquid life gushing out hurt...

And love for you.

The needle in your hand
pokes. prods. stings.
Stitch after stitch;
sewing me up,
making me sane.

And the healing process begins.

Scars on my wrist
Relics of a still breathing era
Reminding me of all the battles
I had the misfortune to lose
Tears on the pillow, blood on the sheets
I'm just a boy with a tragic past
Who longs for the day when I'm dead at last

You know, if I had a penny for every poem I have read with the theme of
"You don't know what you have until it's gone"
I would be a rich man
It's a shame that it took me seventeen years and a handful of special people
To realize that sometimes clichés are correct

I am not sure if you are aware
But each time you inhale
It is called an inspiration
And each time you exhale
It is called an expiration
So here I sit
Echoing a process that has been perfected throughout the millennia
Except I guess perfected would be a strong word
Because we don't have it right just yet

You were someone who inspired me
To become someone who I could be proud of
Someone whose own stories set my blood on fire
And filled me with hope that I could take the raw elements
Of myself and forge them into something great
Because that is exactly what you did

Just a milkman's son
Who ended up becoming the smartest man I know
Who taught thousands of students
Both privileged and poor
And couldn't tell the difference between the two
Who inspired two generations of people
To learn
To love
To laugh
Whose little gestures meant the world
To everyone who had the fortune to inhabit yours

Your five sons went on to become
Doctors and lawyers
Businessmen and police officers
Even if one wanted to be a clown
You married a beautiful woman
Who walked with love in her heart
And kindness kneaded into her hands
Your grandchildren, while there are a lot of us
Each owe you for the knowledge and kindness you instilled in us
All this from a milkman's son

This poem isn't goodbye
Because each time I draw inspiration from the atmosphere around me
I am thinking of you and I hold that **** breath for as long as I can
Just waiting for inspiration to hit me
I squeeze my eyes closed and hope against hope that everything is going to be okay
Because I am too  scared to let that inspiration go, I am not ready to expire

So grandpa,
Please
For me
Take that breath.

I know that I just got out of the shower
But my eyes aren't wet from the water
And I would just like to tell you the difference between
"Bye!" and saying goodbye
The former would be used at the end of a long day
When the sight of you at another point in my life
Is not just a possibility, but something that is assured
I know when I go to sleep that I don't have to worry about
Telling you everything that I needed you to hear
Because I know there will be more time
But saying goodbye are the words I use
When I am unsure of the next time I will see you
And goodbye are the words I will use when
I want you to know that even though our time is up
I will never forget you, and every day I will wake
With your image in my brain and my memories of you
Still fresh from dreaming
Goodbye means that in the moments that you are gone
I will ache and cry for you
I will remember you
I will be thinking of you when I am lying in bed
And wishing that I could remember the last words
That I spoke to you
And when I say goodbye I know you won't hear me
Even though my only wish would be
The chance
To say goodbye