why
can’t we just
be k i n d

just
take a second
to appreciate
that we’re not alone

just
wait a minute
and remember
all those times people were kind to us

and just
spend a lifetime
to repay
what can never be repaid

we’re all just human
flesh and bone

though not the same origin
still the same soul

we’re all just sinners
saved by grace

all under different beliefs
all different kinds of race

why can’t
we just
be

k i n d ? ? ?

this isn’t going to make sense
cause it’s not supposed to
and if I’m being honest
this isn’t for you
it’s not even for me

I’m stuck
I’m trapped
I’m lost
I’m every other word that describes people who feel at a dead end

I’m typing on a ****** phone
That’s connected to a ****** connection
That could possibly be a metaphor for my life

I’m writing
Because I don’t know what else to do

I’m writing
Cause that’s what they told me to do

But they also told me that what I think isn’t always true
That I’m special and I just don’t see it

But that’s the thing
I don’t see it

And if I don’t see it then why should it matter if anyone else does

And if I’m thinking something why should it matter if it’s true

What matters is that it’s in my head
What matters is that it’s always there

But here I am
Stuck in the same place
Back to square one
No progress made
The same questions, whether true or not

Will I amount to anything?
Do I really help?
Am I really worthwhile?
Do you actually care?

I see these people
When I’m online
They smile and post
They edit and pose

I can’t help but wonder

Do you really smile, or do you just do it to look happy like me?
Do you really feel happy, or are you trying to lie like me?
Do you understand what I feel?

Or is it just me?

I’m not trying to be selfish
I don’t want a lot
I just want to be happy
And I want others to be happy with me
But neither is happening

So instead there’s a poem
That doesn’t even ryhme
That makes no sense
  I’ll try harder

I came into this world with a big strong heart
I came into this world with good intentions
I came into this world with love and kindness
but the world came to me with hate
the world came to me with fights
the world came to me with negative vibes
so I tried to save myself
but the world overcame
so my heart became weak and cold
my intentions became irrelevant
my love and kindness turned into harshness
how can I overcome the world by myself
-8:53pm 3/11/18

Carry me gently to the moon
My heart hurts darkness makes me swoon
I need to be rid of this intense guilt
Let me curve like a cat on the moon’s tilt
Let me touch tips of stars
Feel their heat heal my scars
When shadow comes I’ll travel home
A new energy fills my bones
I tingle with stars the moon on my back
And no longer feel dark’s vicious attack

~kb

I haven’t written anything
Not in awhile at least
And for a minute
I think it’s because
I’ve finally lost myself
My creative side at least.
But soon I realize
It’s simply because
I’m happy.
The things I write
Are twisted and depressing
Sometimes too dark
To even represent
My true self.
But they were decent
Some even good
And it makes me miss
Being sad.

I let different boys touch me
Because I wanted to know
Even for a second
What it felt like to be loved
Even if the love was cheap
And it tasted like ***
Like the punchline to a joke
I never got because it was me

I let different boys have different parts of me
Parts they didn't deserve
But I offered up willingly because I couldn't give anything else
after you broke me
I was looking for different fingers
to place different pieces and hoping  the outcome
would be a masterpiece
Maybe one of them would find a way
to cover up the handprints you left all over me

I let different boys touch me because I had to prove to myself
you wouldn't be the only one
that these scars marking my body wouldn't define
my worth to be loved
I am not entirely sure  
you aren't the only one who could ever touch me without slightly  flinching

I let different boys touch me because that is all I have been taught
To be a joke
To be silent
To be ready to give until you have nothing left
- they keep leaving me and I am to scared to offer up anything more than my body to get them to stay

He writes poetry
But no one knows

He writes poetry
He writes about love
And loss

He writes about smiles
And frowns

He writes about sorrow
And forgotten towns

He writes about how lost he gets
Caught up in his own mind

He writes poetry to
And about others

But no one knows

Know one knows the depth of his soul
Because they all choose to see the exterior
And that exterior screams

Preppy
And preppy
Don't have souls

Or so they thought
Until the day he was consumed
By his own poetry