It lurks at the back of your consciousness.
It dwells in the pit of your stomach.

It is strong.
Strong enough to exist -
behind the facade of calm demeanors.
Strong enough to swim against the currents
of indoctrinated beliefs of righteousness.
Strong enough to be the wrong amidst all rights.

It is the speaker for the voiceless.
It is the doer for the incapable.
It is the strength for the weak.
It is sweet escape for the trapped.

Listen...

It's there in the lull.
When all is quiet, you hear it.
Whispering, inciting, winning you over.

It will take you over.
It will steer the wheel.
But only if you want it just as much.

I didn’t love her for who she was.
Not really.
I loved her because she was like me.

Not the version of me I show the world—
But the version I’ve buried,
the one who knows how to manipulate affection,
who confuses attention for intimacy,
who’s played roles to survive.

She was familiar.
And I thought…
if I could love her,
if I could see past the mask and still choose her—
maybe someone could do the same for me.

Maybe I wasn’t beyond redemption.
Maybe sociopaths could be saved
by the very thing we pretend to offer:
real love.

But she wasn’t ready.
Maybe she never will be.
She did what I used to do—
took the love and called it useful,
until it wasn’t.

And now I’m left holding this hollow ache—
not just from losing her,
but from losing the illusion
that someone like me could ever be seen
and still be chosen.

I have rituals
for the first day of class
like a superstitious athlete
they get me into a good frame of mind
where I feel like a juggernaut who has total agency
and doesn’t need to seek validation
It’s a moment in time

I have all my books—stacked on my desk
they look serious—very nuts and bolts
I’ve beaten the syllabuses to death
to try to figure out where my power lies
learning is all energy, it’s a marathon
it’s hard to sustain that for the entire semester
so not switching off, now and then, is unrealistic

Still, I’m comfy in in a classroom (I’m a senior)
Good students are just a little weird.
I say hello to the moon so she won’t feel alone
I say ‘cheers,” before taking a shot of mouthwash.
If I lose my ID, my lucky pencil or something, I call out, “treasure hunt!”
When treating everyone to grubHub I ask, ‘the usual?’ When we’re done I ask, ‘how was everything this evening?’
If I see a random girl looking fabulous, I tell her, because if I get complimented, I think about it for a week.
.
.
A song for this:
Thetan by Single Gun Theory

I found you
                   d
                      e
                        a
             ­             d
                             Lying on the ground
                                                          ­    with a
                                                                ­        k
                                                       ­                n
                                                               ­      i
                                                               ­    f
                                                               ­  e
                                             In your hand
                      Knowing your death was on  purpose
                                       My heart
                S.    T.    O.     P.        S.
In the hope you would be fine
          Eyes cloudy
    Like an overdose on morphine
        But clear as day
  That it was a stab in the h      e
                                    a               r
                                             t
                     With a mix of oxycodone
                        Wish you were
                                                      e
        ­                                          v
                     ­                         i
                                      ­    l
                                       a
But fate doesn't

                           L
                              I
                               ­  E
               I'll join you in the afterlife
     With a match
Or a    n        o
       o                s
                e
                    Or even a
                                       e
                                   if
                          kn
           I'll figure it out
                                   I can't live
      with. out.- ------  
^-^^^^--------^^--------------------- *beeping stops

Tears fall down my eyes
As I cry
Cry
I want you to come back
Please
Stay longer
But you can't
As your bones are laid out in a heart
A heart to show you loved me
But you don't exist anymore
I've lost the ability to love......

What if two souls of symphonic stanza
With hearts full of haikus' hope
Met right here on Hello Poetry
By reading what the other wrote.

They'd send messages of meter
With affectionate allusions
This couldn't get any sweeter
Free verses with no conclusions

A poem crafted with emotions true
Was sent to one of the two last night.
It wants to say, "I love you more than words."
But instead reads, "I love the way you write."

They'll figure out in time that they're meant to be together
And I am sure that they'll make the cutest couple(t) ever!