I write in my underwear.
I write in my underwear, so my thoughts are not caged
underneath my clothes.
I refuse to look at the screen.
I only look at my fingers, hitting the keys as rhythmically as I say the words in my head.
I type because my thoughts are too fast
And I fear if I write I will forget

I am one of many.
One of many who speak because they cannot help it.
Whose words burst forth from their lips in spontaneous spasms of passionate opinions.
We will not hold our tongues
We will not mind our manners
And we will not conform to please
For we are romantics,
and poetics,
and hopers, and dreamers,
and liars, and cheaters.
We not only do things because we feel them,
But because we want to experience them.
And with are experiences
Of love, tragedy, happiness, and despair
We aim to awaken passion in others.
Others who fear emotion.
We aim to shake them
And awaken the life that they have.
I will not confine my soul
inside a cubical
And I will not shut my window
and deprive the world of my dreams
And I will not straighten my curls and **** the energy that they harbor
And I will not cage my thoughts underneath my clothes
It is for them, and for us
I write in my underwear

To feel love, and taste love, and be love again
But all I feel are the words that come from my pen
And as I lay my curly locks upon my bed
I think of you and everything that you once said
And though I shower to wash off the memories
The feeling of your lips on my skin remains on me
I remember all the nights that we didn’t fight
When there was never enough time during the day or the night

I wish I could blame you instead of me
I wish things could be the way they used to be
But I blame myself for trying so hard
For not letting go while I was unscarred
For wasting so many tears on someone who didn’t care
For missing you for all the times you weren’t there
I know I am young and I have plenty of time
But I feel numb and wonder if I am alive
But I can hear my heart pounding when I run
So I run and keep my eyes on the sun
And I feel the heat upon my face
And then I know I am in a good place
I can run away from the thoughts in my head
And stay content until I go to bed
When I cannot run and I cannot sleep
All the thoughts of you begin to creep
And though I hid away all your things
Like music when it’s turned off, still rings

And though this poem may seem a bit much
I hope to read it and not miss your touch
I will read this and know that I have grown
And hope someone will read it, and know they’re not alone


So I will wipe my tears and let my fingers fly
And write down everything I have held inside
And I will keep my face towards the sun
And with faith and hope
I will run.

I go when my head is over crowded with thoughts,

When my heart is overwhelmed with feelings,

And when the ignorant and shrill voices of my family and peers are too much to bear.

I seclude myself within the walls of the auditorium.

In the auditorium, there are endless possibilities,

It is filled with a vast emptiness of echoing silence.

It is so nice to hear silence.

I walk up on stage and close my eyes,

Not to visualize a performance, but to listen.

I stand.

I stand till I can’t feel my body.

Till I can’t feel anything .

Till I cease to exist.

I sing.

I sing not to hear the words, only the notes.

The sound floats up like a cloud.

It floats, swells, and fills, as I breathe life into the room.

Each note echoes blending one into the other.

It fills my ears and my mind,

Until there are no more thoughts

No more tears

Only music.