'Time is a created thing,"
so it's my fault I'm waiting
for work. One thing I need
to surgically remove from
my head is the idea that
being at work is like talking
on the phone all day because
someone has told you to,
while life keeps calling on
the other line and you're
too busy to answer. I get
sad often. I go to bed sad,
wake up sad, feel alright
at points throughout the
day (depending), return
home, feel sad, and
wonder if the 't' in
'satisfied' could be
replaced in my life.

'sad-isfied.'

if I'm not broken,
don't fix me.

Our hands act like Newton's Cradle;
bumping into each other like there's no before or no after;
just a constant force of just wanting to hold your hand
until I find the courage to let the friction just be,
and the heat just dissipates throughout our fingertips.
We let the tension of our feelings fall and the oscillation is no more.
It'll just be us; wrapping that constant energy within our fists;
preserving awkward unplanned first kisses.

Nervousness filled to the brim of my smile,
to my fingertips painting on the canvas of your cheek.
Just you and I, and streetlight spotlights
tracing our figures on a pitch navy night;
just waiting for the perfect moment to arrive.
And like devastating car wrecks;
it seems to come so slowly, yet so suddenly.
As the moments of uneasy tension begin to sandcastle its way to glory;
the waves begin to greet them in its wake.
And the kinetic energy of my lips greeting yours is lost
in the awkward, sweet silence that fills the street.
And the heat from the butterflies fluttering against the insides of our stomachs
allow us to exchange nervous laughs and mysterious smiles.
And we begin to taste the sweet, soft shock of each other’s lips.

Humanity

hates
(loves)

kills
(creates life)

hurts
(heals)

Every action
has an
equal
and
opposite

reaction.

To love or
hate?

To heal
or hurt?

To act
or react?

To each
their own.

Humanity
decides
it's own
fate.

Insignificant worm,
Look at you squirm.
What are you going to do,
Without the pity
Of some teenage girl.
You disgusting germ.
You twist my words,
Just like your body,
You insignificant worm.

I will not mourn
I have nothing to learn
I'll continue to purge
to rid myself
Of emotions
For some insignificant worm.

I look to God,
Because it's all I can do.