now i don't even try
and say hi
if theres a person i don't know in the room
such a drastic difference
from how i was a few months ago
i hate this
i have so much anger
but i feel so dry and i don't have the energy to express it
i think my eyes are just welling from tiredness
**** this **** hole that i used to love so much
my room feels like a pig pen
and my sheets don't feel clean even when i wash them
people irritate me beyond words sometimes
but mostly im so mad at myself
for being so content with laziness, cowardice
everything moves so slowly
and i get dragged along each day
im scraped up like my knees
**** i need a band aid

i usually make jokes at myself
because to some people
celibacy is funny
and what better way to cover up insecurity
yes i could have *** i guess
but i'm stuck in a comfortable place
where i've put it just out of reach
and i haven't allowed my muscles to stretch
yes i could have *** i guess
girls and boys alike have expressed interest
but whenever i get close
i plan a carefully elusive escape
a "coincidental" blockade
i may have put it there myself
but forgive me for being picky
not everyone has the skill of hurling themselves
please, don't call me a tease
i just have to sniff around before i know what i want
and usually, i've discovered
i don't

This isn't a poem.
I just want you to know I love you.

The teacher tells the class to write a poem
Jokes on her, the kid in the back has already written over two thousand.

Branches grow through the spring,
Sharp like a razor blade.
The thorns reach out and grab a victim,
Cuts so deep, each memory, each reflection.

Winter comes for scars to hide,
But underneath the cuts are wide.
Wears it like a disguise from normality,
But sill gets judged by reality.

Summer comes where you're faced with fire,
Now it can't be hidden, the urge and desire.
Autumn leaves start to fall,
But you still hang on the tree, away from them all.

Seasons change, and memory's too,
But I'll never forget.
Not a day goes by when I don't smile,
But let's try be happy, just for a while

Seasons change, and memory's too,
But you'll never forget what has become of you.