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Hollis Apr 2020
More than quiet trips to the library
More than a cup of delicious iced coffee
More than canceling Friday night plans
More than Tumblr and Pinterest
More than a new book that hasn’t been opened yet
More than the old bookstore smell
More than the coffee shop no one knows about so I’m the only one in it
More than finishing my homework early
More than writing a new page of my book
because being an introvert isn't a bad thing
Hollis Apr 2020
I love you...
More than quiet trips to the library
More than a up of delicious iced coffee
More than cancelling Friday night plans
More than Tumblr and Pinterest
More than a new book that hasn’t been opened yet
More than the old bookstore smell
More than the coffee shop no one knows about so I’m the only one in it
More than finishing my homework early
More than writing a new page of my book
Hollis Mar 2020
I’m 19 years old
I’m ambidextrous
I hate bell peppers in my food
I still don’t have a driver’s license
And for as long as I can remember
I’ve had a fascination with hugs, Ginger Ale, and other people’s names
I believe there are only two people in the world:
Those who like spoken word
And liars
I’m not religious
My faith in God died before I could even figure out who He was
But in June 2019 I saw my nephew’s face for the first time and thanked whoever created humans that day
I go to a pretty standard college
Where thankfully my disabilities are taken seriously
And I don’t cry so much anymore
I know the best way to lawfully cheat to make your essays longer
Hint: the font size
But I don’t know the last names of any of the ladies who serve me food every day
I’m the transgender son of a man who still doesn’t want to believe it and would rather I be non-binary
The son of a woman who finds happiness in putting her children’s hopes and dreams down
I’m only 5’5”…on a really good day
But being built like a haiku in a poetry book is a lesson in finding ways to be seen as the tallest in the room
I don’t know what it means to be a man
And for a while, I thought dressing like a ******* could tell me
I’m still learning to unlearn the self-hatred inside me
Reminded every day that the ******* I have on my chest can be seen as male body parts if I had the humor to see it:
******* can be my misplaced ball-sack
I know that we all carry an addiction to property in our blood
I know that love cannot be owned in any way shape or form
Somedays, I am still the fourteen-year-old on the ground with my wrists pinned, being told to “shut the **** up” every time I see someone who looks like Him
I only watch two shows now but I know deep-down, iCarly and WOWP will always be the best **** Nickelodeon or Disney created
I know that the best actual company is not Disney or Pixar but DREAMWORKS
Because I like owning the fact that I am a male Yzma from The Emperor’s New Groove
I like being the first person in my life to go to a human rights march and actually WANT to be there
I was the tree that fell when no one else was looking and dared to make a sound
I am the Thanksgiving buffet that depression, anxiety, and an eating disorder tried to take apart piece by piece
I am living proof that those ******* didn’t know what they were getting themselves into
I am both survivor and boy
Every night, the sky opens its mouth and swallows the sun in a single gulp just to make room for the room
What a terrifying but amazing way to see our lives
To be so full of so much light but always hungry for more
an introduction to myself
  Feb 2020 Hollis
Abigail Marie
You cause
a break inside my organs
Pointing out my flaws
our differences.
You are at peace.
I sit jittering, worrying
what everyone will think
of when I didn’t care
you made me laugh at
Changes.  You’re not right for me
Nor I for you, but I can’t help
What if?  Then I remember
you’re not what nor
Everything I want.

You are an intellectual snob you
have a depth about you
I would love to delve in,
a psychological study
that even the best critics would praise,
but I don’t want anyone else to have been there
or ever go there.
I cannot hold on to you
tear me away while
You’re haphazardly gluing us together
We’re a kindergarten art project
messy, trying to see
Beauty within the confusion,

You asked me
Where am I most at peace
4 years old.      
I could be anything
No fears
I hadn’t been ripped apart.
I was the girl that said everything,
until I felt the need to screen my thoughts,
like the filter you use to make your coffee
each morning.  I wish that’s where I was,
having you tell me
that you like your women like your coffee
Dark and bitter.

I can look past your chauvinistic ways,
not giving a **** about anyone.
You’re not really closed minded
You just act like it,
which annoys the hell out of me
Sometimes.  I wish life was simple.    
But then
I would never know your complexities nor
Feel the things you help me feel,
like hate for train whistles
or the burn of gin hitting my throat.
you introduce me to
offstage trumpets, bad movies.  Your politics,
your brown eyes      
and how you can hear frequencies
that most everyone else can’t.  I worry
that you hear
the fear in my voice and heartbreak
With every word I speak.

When were you going to tell me?
Or was that your plan all along?
To throw me out
like yesterday’s coffee grounds
or cut up scraps
Used and unwanted.
I wish I could tell you
to tell her you don’t want her
but me instead,
you don’t, I don’t want you to.
I want holding hands, laughter
comfort, personality, humor, intellect.
You want that plus things
I can’t give
But you always take.

You are your coffee
disgusting, caffeinated,
the only patch that helps is
comforting words you never spoke.
We had many conversations
of your desires, lusts, mistakes,
but I was burned,
by lies, distrust.
You left, like always,
a harsh, acidic aftertaste
on my tongue.
  Feb 2020 Hollis
Marisa Hope
Throw rocks at my window,
Hold the boom box up high.
Send me on scavenger hunts,
Make me search far and wide.
Let me be your favorite song,
A tune you can never get out of your head.
Recall your fondest memories,
Those of when we first met.
Take me out to ball games,
Introduce me to all your friends.
I want to be your now and forever,
I want the cheesy moments to last a lifetime.
Take me in now and never look back,
We can have a life we create out of whack.
  Feb 2020 Hollis
Ena Alysopriono
People of all ages sitting in a circle staring at the ground, ceiling, etc. a few twitching.

"Hi, I'm Fred."

"Hi Fred"

"I started this group because I found that I was on Hello Poetry 24/7. I got an account and I loved it. At first I was only on a little, posting one or two poems a day. But I loved it so much I began spending more time on it. It became a problem when I was fired for focusing on Hello Poetry instead of the heavy machinery I was operating. I was drinking so much coffee so I didn't have to sleep that I couldn't think straight. I began writing strange poems about adhesive sloths and grapes. My wife threatened to leave me if I didn't delete my account. I tried to stay off it but, it didn't work out. My wife took my kids and told me that I was too irresponsible. I responded with a limerick. She was very mad and left immediately after. I really want to stop being addicted to Hello Poetry and when I asked I got an overwhelming response from people who felt the same. If everyone could please introduce themselves in a clockwise direction."

"Hi… I'm… um… kittylover682"

"Hi kittylover682"

"So… I used to have a name, but now I can only remember my screen name. In fact, that is really the only part of my identity that remains. I miss obsessing over kitties and petting them, but now I just spend all my time on Hello Poetry. I used to have such a kitty-full life! I had so much potential! i made friends with every type of kitty, even new ones, i never discriminated. I met persian kitties, and alley kitties and tabby kitties and I went and pet them and showed them love… then i got kicked out of people's houses for sneaking in to pet their kitties… but my point is, kitties were my LIFE! And now, my life revolves around that little lightening bolt and i can only seem to speak in metaphors. That lightning bolt is the death of my heart, the thorn in my side, the electricity that warps my body and it just… it is a storm inside of my life. The agony when i see that my lightning bolt is not lit up with a notification… it is an undying fiery hell within my soul. I makes me want to… to… well, it makes me consider leaping off of cliffs or in front of trains… but the only thing that stops me is the hindering idea that I may have to get off of hello poetry for a few moments to go do that so I remain, under my bed on my computer, posting poetry, reading poetry, commenting, liking, reposting… its a VICIOUS CYCLE!!! WHAT HAPPENED TO ME?!!!!”

“Hi I’m DaPoet”

“Hi DaPoet”

“Like, kittylover682 I had a different name, but this is MUCH cooler. I don’t think I have a problem, because who says there is anything wrong with being a poet? Also I’m not a normal poet. All of my poems are also raps. I’m here because my mom thinks I have a problem. Apparently choosing poetry over sleep and school is not okay. I don’t understand her ‘logic’”

“Hi I’m DYING”

“Hi Dying”

“No, that’s not my name, who CARES what my name is?! I’m only still here and not on Hello Poetry right now because my sister has chained me to this chair and bolted it to the floor. She thinks I need help but I AM DYING! I need to get on it! I DON’T HAVE A PROBLEM! I’M FINE! I’M FINE! GIVE ME BACK MY LAPTOP!”

“Please calm down.”

“Shut up Fred!
There once was a man named Fred,
who got it into his stupid head,
that people needed to be cured,
of the obsession with the written word,
and as soon as I get unchained FRED IS GOING TO BE DEAD!”

“Okay… please stop creating violent limericks on the spot. We have all been there, there IS a way out.”


“Okay, stop making really ****** rhymes please.”


“Okay… let’s just move on. We’ll come back to you. Next person, please go on, I’ll duct tape his mouth shut. Silence is golden, but duct tape is silver, after all.”

“Hi I’m…Sally”

“Excuse me, could you put down your phone while you introduce yourself?”

“No… Oh my gosh, Poetry is Life started trending!”

“I’m sorry what?”

“My fourth latest poem started trending!”

“YAY!” *everyone claps and congratulates Sally

“No. No more Hello Poetry. We are supposed to stop obsessing over poetry and be cured from this addiction.”

“I don’t want to be cured.”

“I love Hello Poetry”

“Why don’t we change this to a spoken word club!”


“Hi I’m DaPoet and I declare this a new spoken word club!”


“No no no! I created this to-” Sally clubs Fred in the head with her phone and he drops dead


“He was hit in the head”

“And we are now free”

“To write continuous poetry!”

“And become more obsessed instead!”

The end.

Hollis Feb 2020
I remember the feeling of falling
I remember what the feeling of love was like
I remember the texture of his hands on me
I remember being old enough to understand I was transgender
I remember hating my body till I weighed 90 pounds
I remember crying until all my tear ducts had dried up
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