do you know how many times i've had to suffer through the same tired metaphors over and over and over again.

put down your tears and your stars
and your cigarettes and your coffee
and your waves and your skies
and your hearts and your bruises
and pick up your pen and write
something worth living for ******* it.

because i haven't read a poem from the heart in years
and all your elaborate conceits and sadness and promises
and "i love you"s and lips and dreams
are getting on my ******* nerves.

rage against the stereotypes and conventions and
rage against Petrarchan and Romantic and
Post ******* Modern love.

Don't write something because you feel like it.
Write something because you would explode if you didnt

(I) do not stay up late
because I (am) not tired.
I like sleeping,
but I cannot stop (thinking)
(about) how little time there is left
and I know (you) are almost
out of my reach.

-kk

and for a moment there our hands almost touched

but I didn't know what to say
it was late and we were both drunk
the sky had been dark for hours
and everyone inside the house was loud and
I could barely hear myself think

and I wanted to tell you
so much it hurt my chest
and the ice unfolded in my stomach
and killed all the butterflies

but I knew you'd never think of me
that way and so we just sat
on the railing outside some kid's house

and I swallowed all the love I felt for you
bitter and writhing and alive in my throat

and stayed silent as the sun came up

You always try to fix me,
this time, please don't.
-

When will you learn
to stop giving pieces of your heart away

To girls who want the whole thing

When will you learn
there have been two girls
who should have, could have
would have saved you from yourself

Had you not hated them for seeing through you
you and the *******

When will you learn
that you’re angry because you don’t know what else to be
and you’re alone because you hold the hands of the wrong girls
while you’re thinking of the right ones

the thing about school
is it kills beauty

one does not learn to appreciate
a painting by analyzing brushstrokes,
shading,
one does not learn to appreciate
a poem by analyzing metaphors, similes
form, structure, rhyme.
one does not learn to appreciate
a sonata by analyzing cadence, melody
rhythm, harmony

we love art because when we
look at a painting, we see life in its most
basic form.
we love literature because when we
read a poem, we understand the beauty of
the world.
we love music because when we
listen to a sonata, we can hear the fabric
of the universe unravelling.

dear teacher
you cannot teach us these things
because we feel the earth in our bones
we hear the wind and it echoes in our soul
we understand the way the sunlight falls
over each and every one of us

and we know what it feels like
to be alone
to be alive
because that is how the world works

you cannot teach us how to love
one does not learn how to breathe
you just
do