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11.5k · Sep 2018
Too close to reality
Penguin Poems Sep 2018
If want was water,
I would be drowning, my head under completely
and my oxygen quickly depleting.
If confusion was cold,
My fingers would be numb and I wouldn't even
have a coat to ward off the freezing.
If youth was you,
It would be slipping away by the second,
And I can't get a hold to stop it.
my air is gone,
I'm shivering to the bone,
and can't keep a hold on.
But, this is only a poem:
I know I'm not suffocating, subzero, or slipping.
But I can't help but feel like the more I write,
the farther I get from reality
and the closer I get to metaphor mortality.
Penguin Poems Oct 2018
When that specific person calls your name
and you hope it’s not actually you
That’s what wanting to forget feels like.

When they hand you pictures
taken in a different dimension
That’s what wanting to forget feels like.

When they randomly message you
over some stupid **** you said
That’s what wanting to forget feels like.

When you burn every note
that they ever wrote you
That’s what wanting to forget feels like.

When you tear down every picture
you two ever took together
That’s what wanting to forget feels like.

When you delete all of the posts
on snapchat, instagram, facebook
That’s what wanting to forget feels like.

When you unfollow them
on snapchat, instagram, facebook
That’s what wanting to forget feels like.

When you hate yourself
for still drinking and eating their favorite things
That’s what wanting to forget feels like.

When even though you’ve gone through all this trouble
they still somehow find themselves into your head,
then your conversations,
then your poetry,
That’s what wanting to
(but not being able to)
forget feels like.
I want one of those mind erasing things from Men in Black or even the one from the Incredibles i don't really care which but I just want one plz and thanks
Penguin Poems Sep 2018
Poetry is my check of reality,
Where I put my past in front of me
And analyze for hours, using all my power to discover what it was that went wrong.
I wish it didn’t have to be that way,
Because all my scrutinizing does is lead me astray from the path I was meant to take,
accumulating more mistakes,
and in the end I only end up with more heartbreak.
Last time my heart was this broken,
Nothing I felt went unspoken.
Now that the same part of me is missing,
Nothing I feel goes unwritten.
Explains my recent ‘boom’ in poetry and interest in it. Life has been tough recently.
1.6k · Sep 2018
Penguin Poems Sep 2018
Extra, extra
Read all about it!
Your daily dose of depression on the front cover—
Or maybe some celebrities just become lovers—
But whatever it is, you know you want to know about it.
All publishers as my witness,
All news is good business.
1.2k · Sep 2018
Penguin Poems Sep 2018
You used to eat all the blue M&Ms in the package last.
Now I eat all the blue ones first to convince myself I’m over you,
Yet every time I do
I only think of you.
1.2k · Oct 2018
Penguin Poems Oct 2018
Swimming in honey is impossibly difficult.
Unless you don’t know it’s honey.
In ninth grade I started dating this guy.
I dove into the deep end with him and broke out into a sprint.
It took eight months to reach the other side,
eight months until the sweetness seeped into my teeth,
eight months until I recognized the bitter potential of this swimming pool.
Swimming in honey is impossibly difficult.
Unless you don’t know it’s honey.
My mind has always raced and I never had an issue with it,
up until the moment I was thrown a life raft.
It’s impossible to tell how sticky your situation is when all you’ve ever known is under the nectar.
Swimming in honey is impossibly difficult.
Unless you don’t know it’s honey.
We’ve been friends for so long that’s all I’ve ever thought of you as.
Yet after my thousandth lap you dragged me out of the pool, scraped away the syrup, pointed out to the place I had been for so long and told me
“Honey, I love you.”
Swimming in honey is impossibly difficult.
Unless you don’t know it’s honey.
1.1k · Jan 2019
Time — haiku (no. 8)
Penguin Poems Jan 2019
If time heals all wounds,
why does each day without you
hurt worse than the last?
1.1k · Apr 2019
The Girl in the Mirror
Penguin Poems Apr 2019
The girl in the mirror likes to scream at me.
She shouts:
"Your acne is gross!"
"Your muffin top needs to go!"
"Your ***** are too small!"
"God, look at your nose!"
in my old mirror, I could hear her.
but now the glass is thicker.
I like to smirk back at her appalled expression
and say:
"yell all you want: I'm not listening."
esapril prompt inspiration!
1.1k · Sep 2018
To Feel or Not to Feel
Penguin Poems Sep 2018
I scream for it to stop.
Everything. Anything.
Can't it all just stop?
The madness, the confusion,
the pursing of my already declining mental state,
which only makes me more irate.
I need the noise, the pain, the way the thought of you used to burn happily in my chest--
I need it to rest.
I'd rather be drowning in the feeling of emotionless internal bleeding than burning from the inside out on your account.
You hurt me once before, and it kills me to let you do it anymore.
Save me or slay me,
but don't just sit, savoring the torture I'm in currently.
i'm stuck in a battle between staying emotionless or suffering with my intense feelings. It almost seems better to just not feel at all.
997 · Oct 2018
If you love me
Penguin Poems Oct 2018
If you love me,
Or ever did,
I beg you to stop.
Usually it would be the opposite
But as much as I hate being broken,
I hate being the one to break even more.
Before, I encouraged you to take the leap—
As long as it’s not me,
Be my guest.
I know how much loving in silence hurts,
But if you love me so much you’d understand why I value your silence.
890 · Oct 2018
Penguin Poems Oct 2018
And you will be called in.
If you are prepared to listen.

Action you take creates friction.
Name reveal, if you can catch it.
866 · Jan 2019
Penguin Poems Jan 2019
You took my soul with you when you left
You had lost yours so you borrowed mine
Now I’m just an empty shell
The sweet nut taken out and treasured
And the crackled shell left to disintegrate.
My body decomposing,
I walk around becoming a zombie,
filled to the brim with anxieties and lost hope
lost hope for a future with you
because there was so much more we were supposed to do
but of course you took your heart and soul with you when you left this earth,
and decided to take mine too.
851 · Nov 2018
haiku (no. 2)
Penguin Poems Nov 2018
your instagram posts
are they carefully chosen
like mine are for you?
820 · Nov 2018
Penguin Poems Nov 2018
maybe if I'm distracted by loving someone else
I won't have to learn how to love myself
791 · Dec 2018
Hopeless Romantic
Penguin Poems Dec 2018
hopeless romanticism
is an endless pit
of effortless falling
but reckless hypnotism
742 · Nov 2018
haiku (no. 5)
Penguin Poems Nov 2018
Jesus, stop changing
whenever the lighting shifts
you chameleon
Penguin Poems Oct 2018
I stand naked in the wake of the mirror,
criticizing everything about the way I appear.
Everything seems just a little off, misplaced maybe,
like a baby did a jigsaw puzzle
shoving pieces that don't belong together.
My small chest superimposed on my thick stomach makes me sick to it
My dimples indented on my cheekbones and not next to my crooked smile are anything but picture perfect
The list goes on and on
I criticize myself about everything under the sun for so long
I run out of things to say.
I wish the ugly parts of me would just go away.
I stare into my own ugly eyes with ugly tears in them and scream internal ugly words until I can't take the ugly hurt, and I cry out:
"I don't want to see my imperfections!"
My wish rattles against the glass.
I blink and gone is my reflection,
then all too quickly I beg for it back.
The last four lines are my favorite. I wrote another poem like this one with those last four lines, but I didn't like the rest of the poem, so I wrote this one instead and I think I like it a lot.
681 · Nov 2018
haiku (no. 7)
Penguin Poems Nov 2018
is there a reason
is it for pleasure or fun
that you mess with hearts?
651 · Dec 2018
button jar
Penguin Poems Dec 2018
My grandmother gifted me a jar of buttons when I was little.
There were so many inside the jar that it was impossible she collected them by accident; impossible that she had collected them for the purpose of sewing old clothing back together.
Her button jar serves as a reminder to me, a reminder of how perfect she was that she never needed them to mend old shirts she had torn,
because she was too perfect to have torn any in the first place.
I wonder if she gave them to me on purpose, or on accident.
If she had given them to me as a keepsake of her, to show all she had collected,
Or as a precaution, because she knew I was going to need to mend so much of my future.
A rough draft.
Penguin Poems Oct 2018
Writers block is just a giant wall
blocking an even rockier path than the one you're on
Once you find a topic,
you can't find the first word,
the first rhyme,
the first line,
the first stanza,
and I throw my hands up in anger
because I end up writing words in order random
or words to make the lines rhyme sandal

My search history is 99%
"words that rhyme with this or that"
Search results: sat, flat, cat
well that doesn't make sense within the context
but ***** making sense or metaphors or deep lore that you have to analyze,
why can't I just write out my feelings without the right rhymes?
I thought poetry was my remedy,
but it's also my demise.
I just started writing and this is where I got ye haw
600 · Oct 2018
grey area
Penguin Poems Oct 2018
Turn the channel but it’s still static
So far away that you can’t hear the panic
And maybe I am a touch dramatic
But that doesn’t mean that I’m not problematic.
Not saying that my whole life is tragic
But having you in it was a little traumatic.
Despite all the times it felt like magic
Looking back now pushes me into a havoc.

I know, I know, I know,
We both made mistakes, and
I know, I know, I know,
We never meant for it to be this way.
I wish, I wish, I wish,
We had told more truths and not buried them,
I wish, I wish, I wish,
we would’ve had more of a grey area.
Meant to be a song... haven’t gotten around to the chords yet though.
598 · Feb 2019
Penguin Poems Feb 2019
my socialization meter is down to zero
I’d be happier if I was the only one
but no one else thinks that two.

they’re right when they say a crowd is three.
but what am I asking four?
loneliness instead of a high five?

haven’t been this antisocial since age six.
I’m supposed to be there by seven
but it’s still the morning; maybe eight.

I might be over it a little by nine,
but I’ll never feel like a full ten.
Penguin Poems Jun 2019
Like everything’s the same
I’m not going insane
This Sunday’s just another day
I won’t be crying your name
I never had a dad
Because then it won’t hurt so bad
I haven’t bought presents in the past
Cause Father’s Day isn’t supposed to be sad.
581 · Sep 2018
Poetry Puppetry
Penguin Poems Sep 2018
I'm the poet.
You're the puppet. I
when and where you

                                  read my words
with my spaces and p
drive you crazy with nonsense clauses
that don't always rhyme.
But they do some of the time.
Or I use alliteration around absently,
leaving you wondering what my next word will be.
And by making it to the end of this poem,
you have proven how poets manipulate your thinking through the use of poetry puppetry.
fun little thing i wrote. i think all poets can relate.
575 · Nov 2018
Penguin Poems Nov 2018
do you have any idea
how ******* good it feels
to see that smiley face
and know you might be imitating it as we type?
572 · Nov 2018
Penguin Poems Nov 2018
We’re all just chameleons
Blending into the common trends
Nothings truly original anymore
But conforming is too boring
So then we encourage the parrots
Who cut through with their loud colors
And unique patterns
but they’re too different
even though everyone knows
Parrots are much prettier than chameleons
Soon after they arrive they are forced back from where they came
Different is good, but only if it’s the same as everyone else’s different.
561 · Dec 2018
Penguin Poems Dec 2018
I miss not missing you
I miss not thinking of you
Go back where you belong,
Anywhere but my thoughts
522 · Jun 2019
Penguin Poems Jun 2019
It’ll get worse before
It gets worse
Once more
480 · Sep 2019
smoking is selfish
Penguin Poems Sep 2019
selfless until I want you to be
always thinking of me
until you realize you can be selfish by slowly killing yourself
"nicotine is nicotine is nicotine" :
words from my own mother
holding me to a standard she won't follow.
478 · Sep 2018
Penguin Poems Sep 2018
You put words in my mouth through thoughts in your head—
Thoughts that deserve to be head.
Why, just why the hell would you believe your mind rather than mine?
I did everything for you.
Rearranged my priorities,
Took control of some of these
wild thoughts in my brain.
Make time for you.
Kinda upset that time is wasted now
But you wasted your time too,
Arranging a script for me out of your distortions. Go on, take a bow!
You did such a great job at flipping and folding and molding my words into something new.
It’ll be fun to see what I can do
now that I know I don’t need you.
475 · Nov 2018
Penguin Poems Nov 2018
lip syncing snapchats
lyrics that might be a clue...
but probably not.
449 · Apr 2019
an opportunist's crush
Penguin Poems Apr 2019
hey, you.
this is new.
i should've expected this, right?
as soon as anyone says they're bi
i suddenly assume i have a chance
but under no circumstance
is that actually true.
...but it could be with you.
423 · Nov 2018
haiku (no. 4)
Penguin Poems Nov 2018
I might lava you
but my eruption could burn
you’re safe somewhere else
415 · Oct 2018
life imitates art
Penguin Poems Oct 2018
Draw me closer
Paint my scalp with your fingertips
Sketch my outline with your palm
Color in my smile with yours
Glitter glue our hands together,
Intertwined forever.
Use your most vibrant shades to shade in our eyes—
Trace the way they look when we gaze at one another—
Wild, excited, loved.

You may not be the artistic type,
But everyone can draw to some extent.
407 · Feb 2019
happy birthday, dad
Penguin Poems Feb 2019
Happy birthday to you
Did you know we love you
We miss you, dear father,
And we hope you do too.

Live it up in heaven
You should visit us again
We think about you always,
And we hope you do too.
404 · Dec 2018
You say
Penguin Poems Dec 2018
You say you’re over me
But the number of times you check my Instagram say otherwise

You say you don’t think of me
But all you’ve written has us forever memorized

You say you don’t care anymore
But your mind still wonders if I’m doing better without you

You say you don’t want me back
But to get me back, you’ve planned what you could do.
374 · May 2019
Penguin Poems May 2019
Got an email from someone I thought I knew
Curious to know what we were up to
Clicked on the link, but it was just a ploy
To hack into my life and use me as a toy.

Broke into the hardware in my head,
Consumed my credit cards, ushered me into debt
Hacked into and manipulated all I felt
Controlled and restricted the hand I was dealt.

Even with my new passwords and new email
The scar of the hacker will never fully heal.
Blamed it on them being the stone cold *****,
But I’m the one who let them hack with a single click.
So I opened a link in an email from someone and my family got hacked so this is that but d e e p lol.
358 · Jan 2019
Past Tense
Penguin Poems Jan 2019
I hate past tense.
It means that it’s already happened, it’s done, and most of the time it won’t happen again.
Most of all I hate that I’m going to have to learn how to use past tense to describe you.
You deserve to be in present tense.
You deserve to be funny, to be smart, to be passionate.
You were funny, you were smart, you were passionate.
So I’m going to keep using present tense to describe the things you did until I can come to terms with past tense.
I do know one thing, though:
You never past-tense ‘loved’ me,
You present-tense ‘love’ me.
And that will never change.
My dad passed away on January 9th, 2019, 6:18pm EST.
350 · Jun 2019
did you ever?
Penguin Poems Jun 2019
did you ever believe me?
when I told you I cared?
did you ever realize?
how much I was scared?
of losing you, of never having you

did you ever love me?
in the way I loved you?
did you ever mean it?
when you said “of course I do”?
think I lost you— or never even had you

did you ever care?
or were you too selfish?
were you ever scared?
or even jealous?
you knew you’d never lose me; you always had me.
345 · Oct 2018
Penguin Poems Oct 2018
The moon has phases
In and out of the same cycle
Always orchestrating a reprisal
Over a number of days

I have phases, too
Yet they seem more like mazes, who
Don’t know where they lead to.
Unlike the moon,
Who is settled in his ways,
I bounce back and forth in this pinball machine,
Forwards, backwards, sideways,
Through different replays with the same ending: heartbreak.

I never know when or where they’ll start,
But I’m always the one with the broken heart.
The phases come and go as they please,
And always end up blaming me.
328 · Nov 2018
I had a dream
Penguin Poems Nov 2018
I had a reality where we got back together.
And I really wish that
I could have realized it was a dream
It was only my head playing tricks on me.
For you
It only helped me realize that I’m completely over my feelings
And my brain is lying to me when it convinced me that
I’m still in love with you
It’s true that
I couldn’t have been happier
I had a dream where we got back together.

(now read from the bottom to the top.)
Top to bottom is supposed to be conveying one message, while the other way is conveying a secret meaning to the dream I had.
324 · Dec 2018
Alternate reality
Penguin Poems Dec 2018
If we lived in a world
Where you didn’t age a day until you met your soulmate
I would have gotten my first grey hair
When I met you
Got this from a writing prompt and it kinda ***** but oh well here it is anyway even tho no one asked for this
315 · Dec 2018
Penguin Poems Dec 2018
Waking up with a hangover is said to be one of the worst feelings in the world.
But waking up with a broken heart from the night before is much worse.
Drinking a warm cup of black coffee does not get rid of heartache like it does a headache.
312 · Dec 2018
I guess
Penguin Poems Dec 2018
I guess I’m not as good as her.
I guess I don’t deserve a chance.
I guess I’ll be okay.
I guess.
301 · Sep 2018
I hope I'm dreaming
Penguin Poems Sep 2018
I want to wake up.
So I try to sleep.
Counting sheep,
one two,
what more can I do?
Three four,
please don't fight anymore.
Five six,
I'm going to be sick.
Seven eight,
I start to hyperventilate, screaming the only way I know how
without making any sound.
I breathe in and out, crying out,
'I don't want to hear it anymore
don't make me listen to it anymore
why are you making me listen to it more?'
I pray to a God I'm not sure exists,
I ask for forgiveness,
I beg and plead Him to take my family on a leash
and lead us to victory.
I can't afford to lose my family.
Hey so this is actually a true story soooo yeah I thought it would make a really cool poem though so here it is
299 · Nov 2018
I'm Possessive
Penguin Poems Nov 2018
it was mine
all mine
poetry was mine
my "thing"
yet you took it
i'm not special anymore

you were mine
all mine
no one else's but mine
my "person"
yet you left me
i'm not special anymore

blue was mine
all mine
only my color
my "shade"
yet you took it
i'm not special anymore

music was mine
all mine
only my chords and words
my "passion"
yet you took it
i'm not special anymore
299 · Jul 2019
Penguin Poems Jul 2019
forcing myself through
poetry as my glue
holding onto you
but you’re in my way.
292 · Dec 2018
Penguin Poems Dec 2018
Didn’t realize the length of my hair determined what was underneath.
288 · Oct 2018
sticks and stones
Penguin Poems Oct 2018
Sticks and stones
May break my bones
But words will never hurt me

And if they do
You’d have no clue
They leave no scars in reality

Yet in my head
The words they said
Are spreading like wildfire

When I explain
All my pain
They brush it off as satire

Just to prove
What they do
I paint my arms with scarlet

They say it’s me
But in reality
It’s them that are the artists.
283 · Sep 2018
Penguin Poems Sep 2018
The powerful emotion that encourages us to rethink everything. We’re never sure who it belongs to, because sometimes everyone harbors it inside, and other times, no one does.
Ambiguous, in the aspect that sometimes we convince ourselves we’re accepted something when we really haven’t— and that instance actually aids the acceptance process.
Melds our hearts together, melts them, and crushes them in the end, in a cruel twist.
Someone we almost/maybe love, that has the potential of breaking you, fixing you, or straight up crushing you.
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