I saw you again.
last night you haunted my dreams
with that cocky smile of yours
and sarcastic attitude
I remember when we were friends
and you were like me;
lost, and hurt.
only you chose to be that way for a guy
and I didn't blame you.
I never did.
but, I tried to tell you that he was toxic
sometimes you'd believe me
others, you were too in love.
it's a crazy kind of love, isn't it?
but.. eventually we grew up.
and you left him and went off to college
while I'm still here, lost, and hurt.
I tried my best to talk to you
but you found new people
people that didn't have problems like me
and you left me.
sometimes I wonder if our bond meant anything to you.
the nights we spent convincing the other that we'd make it through
and maybe one day we'd rule the world
and sometimes I wonder

if it even hurt you.

..i miss you.
a.c

Somebody once told me
no matter what you say -
if you believe it to be true -
speak it with volume
My junior year of high school
I interned for a week
teaching English to middle schoolers
they were working on the creative writing unit
classrooms covered in posters which read things like
no tears in the writer, no tears in the reader
and other good inspirational stuff
some of the kids wrote poems
others wrote short stories
others wrote I don’t know whats
but they all told a story which to them
was an essential truth of life
just waiting to be heard
and when they got up
to share in front of the class
from the shy girl in the soccer shoes
to the tall joker
they all spoke with volume
because some things
are impossible to ignore

No more broken within feelings
Lacking empathy for others
Able to look in the mirror and say looking good
Im proud of mt efforts others might try to kick me down but im not staying down
Im smiling because the world ***** but im awesome
I laugh because I have a sense of humor others dont appreciate
Im glad to have an honest grandma shes so honest it hilarious ive never laughed so hard in my life
Hanging with my cousin his parents threw him out hes an outcast like me thats we get along so well.
Not dating because its not for me I love women but they dont love themselves so they dont have time for me since they are figuring it out
Im enjoying my books its fresh perspective hoping to find my writing style I feel something is missing
The gym is my escape Im getting my body back I chunked up working on my gut and soft core

I am afraid
To be told that I am not cool enough

Call it societal conformity
i thought i already told it a no
but i think it didn't hear me correctly

But those thoughts keep haunting me
not to be left behind
don't do stupid things

but..
...
...
...

its a huge mess
and can't clear it
but I just feel like a
seeker of attention

how much worse can it get?
very. much.

once upon a time,
you asked me to tell you stories.
they never made sense but they made you laugh
but when it was your turn you'd shrug and look at the floor.
you can't weave fiction, you're too
cerebral,
ive always been the creative one.
now im stuffing your essays in the space between my ribs
and pretending thats enough.
youve always been more politics than poetry -
you hate poetry.
but you always came when i performed
(said my poems were the only ones you could stand.
said the others were static noise)
youre miles away, youre chasing cemeteries and im chasing you.
ive always been more
successful,
youve always been kinder.
when i cry you speak softly and i scream.
when you cry i laugh and you
go quiet
and i feel sick.
you still believe in duty and honor and
honest politicians
though i tried to convince you that everyone lies,
just like you.
i took you outside at night and taught you the only constellation i know,
told you about
desperate boys and girls like mountains,
and redwood forests at three a.m.
and blew smoke in your face.
now its your turn.
tell me a story.
tell me how they broke you to bits and built you up again.
tell me how youre afraid to die.
tell me how ive hurt you and youll never trust me quite the same again.
tell me about your favorite book
again,
describe the dragon so vivid my own monsters seem like broken dolls.
i'll offer you a drink and you'll refuse.
(i'm so sorry that you're gentle
and i'm cruel.
i'm sorry for treating you sweet then snapping your wrist.
come back.
this time i'll be kind.
this time i'll listen.)