I hate to use the word depressed
To describe my recent feelings
Because I have a friend who
Is severely depressed and struggling
And I feel like someone with my
Minor problems, shouldn't even use that word

the body
lies
on the bed
you helped build
staring at the ceiling
mouthing lyrics
to a song on repeat
i can lay here all night
i'd have no problem with it
and sing the same words
until they fell from my teeth
hitting the floor
as softly as they came

I ate your thoughts
So you wouldn't have to think them.
Consumed them,
Through gaping ear
While you spoke,
The cavernous listening space grew full.
And still I listened
To those tormenting illusions
As they came spilling from your mind.

I ate your kisses,
So they'd have somewhere to go.
Ate them,
Tasted them,
Swallowed them
And wanted more.
You had kisses to give
And so did I,
But mostly I took yours,
Silencing your mouth
To let my ears recover
From devouring.

I ate your heart,
As it beat,
You broke off pieces
And I chewed
Delicately so as
Not to break you.
You served them to me-
Impaled on the fork
But I rescued them,
By taking them
Down the throat.

I gorged on your movements-
Feasting my eyes,
When you walked and sat
And did normal tasks.
And you especially filled me up
When you came closer.

I ate all of you up,
Because there was so much
To scarf down,
In the night when you couldn't sleep.
Because you couldn't stomach yourself.
And I am left,
In love
With an upset stomach.

I wanted my life to be a poem.
That's what all of this is.
I date you
Because you fit into poetry
The way dark things do.
And you make me happy
But the truth is
I'd love you if you were only
A sad poem.

Cigarettes capture
My attention
Because they're poetic.
Poets smoke.
A cigarette fits in poems
Like writers pen in palm.

I listen to music
For the lyrics
Which speak to me
In the way I like
To speak.
For the drums
That now only mean you.
For the guitar
In the closet
I take out
On occasion.
For the rhythm
That makes my pen dance
When it would rather sleep.

I have the poem in my head
And I guess I'm writing it.
But you're writing it too.
So is she.
And him.
Mostly me.
But the cigarettes
Write too.
Disappearing through
Your lips--
Ash appearing on the page.

Being afraid, It *****. But everyone, whether or not they admit it, is afraid to some extent.

We are separated by screens
We fall in love
With false idols
Willing to give everything
For the love we don't get in our own house
We send Our lives over text
We spend our lives behind screens
We are hidden behind masks
It's turning into the Red Death
Each of us dying by half an hour
We are waiting for love to load
By we can't get a hug from a hard cold computer
We try to send love we don't know how to get ourselves
We are hiding behind screens
Hiding behind false names
We are hiding
Only to try to find love
But we can't upload a hug

That I'm severely damaged and I want you to help,
Without coming across like I need you.

Thats how everything starts
Brand new
And this new thing
Making me happy

Same
****
Different
Day

"Everyday I wake up, hit the snooze button,  go to school, get ****** at my immature friends, or at the school, go home, write poetry, and go to sleep."
Every one
Is stuck in this rut
We can't get out
It starts when were little
Routine is pounded in our heads
Routine
Routine
ROUTINE
ROUTINE
Get in a pattern
Don't get out
All we need
Is a new start
Get out of this prison
This rut
Our prison
SSDD
Is poisoning us
Put in our water
Fed to the young
The water in the fountains
All we are
Is a new disorder