my sweater keeps me warm
when i am cold in study hall
and when the art room is 43 degrees

my sweater keeps me warm
when it is raining outside
and within my body
because i am soaked to the bone

my sweater keeps me warm
even though it's the only thing
i'm wearing in the winter
and my breath forms clouds in the night sky

my sweater keeps me warm
because it has flowers in the fall
and reminds me who i am
that i am who i want to be
that there is only one of me

my sweater keeps in the heat
and hides invisible bruises in the summer
but only when i want it to
i can to show myself if i want to
i can take off my sweater
when i want to, you see
my sweater keeps me warm
when their fingers are like ice
just because you can feel
doesn't mean that something's there

my sweater stops cold hands
from groping my chest
as if they're trying to find a treasure

my sweater
is the oil when we have no heat
igniting a new warmth to cradle others
but only if i want it to

my sweater is mine,
no one else's
and I get to decide what to do with it

i don't need
protection
i'm okay with my warm bit of symbolism
that fuels my independence
and kindles my soul
no one can save me in this matter
only i can help myself

my sweater keeps me warm
when i have a lack of faith
and no God to believe in
because i am my own savior.

when you say that
you're not worth anything
no offense here, but
i kinda wanna punch you in the face
so hard the amount of chemicals in your brains
corrected themselves
and you could love yourself
as much as you should.
baby, i would never lie to you
please believe me when i say
that you're beautiful
that i want to be with you
that i love you.
baby, if it's not healthy to want you
then i'm in and out of the hospital
if it's not healthy to want you
i'll be homeless in the winter
because i'm addicted to the drug that is you
hell, i'd go broke
and i wouldn't give a ****.
baby, if it's not healthy to want you
then i'm lying on my death bed
holding your hand.

a journalist interviewed people
who survived jumping
from the Golden Gate Bridge

most reported that,
at about two thirds of the way down,
they realized that everything could be fixed
one way or another

in turn, if the others
had come to the same realization
then they died for nothing.

placing a bullet in your head
may be convenient if you're in a gang war
and there is no way out

but though there may be a war zone in your mind
no one else is shooting

it may feel as if a drug cartel
crossed the border into your brain
and there is a shoot out with the patrol
but you wont even be able to find a winner

one is just trying to supply product for profit
and the other is just trying to protect its people
but from what?
what are they running from?
why are you hiding?

one is committing a crime
the other is committing a crime
what are they fighting for?
what are you fighting for?
you think, if it goes quick
you can't regret
but it doesn't matter
this is just one of many battles
and you must keep fighting
this is the one war that must be fought
that must be won
you don't need to die for your cause
you need to live

you need to live,
not for others,
but for yourself.

i don't think you realize
that this isn't gta
if you spend $500 you're broke
and if you die you don't re-spawn

the exit sign may be glowing
but you have to take some damage
in order to rebuild yourself
please keep fighting.

she's... intimidated by the boy and his friends over there
the boy with the pink hair
the boy with women's boots and the three female friends surrounding him
she thinks it's sad how a boy can have three female friends and she can't even have one

he... wonders why that girl is staring
actually, he knows why but he's trying not to think about it
it's making him uncomfortable
and she looks really shy and scared
and he doesn't know what to do
that's one thing they still have in common.

she's confused.
why does a boy have pink hair and female friends?
that's not how boys are supposed to act
they're supposed to be big and strong and masculine and protective and boys
why is he acting like a girl?

he's angry.
who the hell cares anymore?
this is past news, old papers in the fireplace
get with the times, new york is burning
stop focusing on one persons heart

she's upset.
who the hell does that?
she feels so uncomfortable
don't focus but pay attention
how can he break the rules?
she can't run the race and he just tore through the finish line

he doesn't like men
so it was a mystery to him why he was one

she watched him swiftly evade boys and dodge male customers at work
this baffled her
boys can't be afraid?

when he had a panic attack on the stairs she scorned him
boys don't cry
boys don't cry
boys don't cry
and then he couldn't stop

bubblegum prince cries pastel blood tears from his wrists when he's sad

she gets an A- on a test and she panics
shakes and has to be sent home
tries to smash coca cola antiques on her head and dissolves because
"she's too weak"

he fails a test
"my mom can't figure out how to get on aspen so i don't care"

and she hates boys like that
boys who don't care about their education and what they have and their friends

and he hates girls like that
girls who don't know the full story and assume on a strand of hair when he can say the same thing back to her

but he doesn't hate her
but she doesn't hate him

she's tired of living
of trudging through each swamp of a day
where her skin is too thick to cut and her skull is too hard to crack

he's tired of dying
of knowing his death and beginning
where his skin is paper thin and swallowing bullets among other things is a constant occurrence in his dreams

bubblegum prince used to be the quiet girl in town
so much can change over the years

welcome to hell! welcome to hell!
where it may be sunny outside
but you wouldn't know
because you are trapped in a classroom
for seven hours a day

welcome to hell
where the teachers drone on like crickets in the night
and can't restart or repeat
yet it sounds the same each time

hell, where your creativity is graded on a scale of one to ten
ten being average
nine and under being a Failure

where Assassin's Creed teaches you more about history than your World Studies class does
and apparently calling a football team
the "Redskins" is giving honor
to Native Americans

please get warm and cozy
when you pledge your allegiance
and loyalty
to a flag every day to honor
your dystopian country that mirrors those books you read in English

praise your popcorn deities
but suffer eternal damnation
if you do not believe

indulge in exhausting labor
that earns no merit

take part in your anxiety
suffer through your abilities
and keep your eyes open

hell will show you a world of opportunities
giving you the unique option to hate
to hate either yourself or everyone else

you won't need empathy or sympathy anymore
apathy is all you can survive on

learn to erase your childhood
bury your life in books and dissolve

oh, and if that doesn't stop you,
try fighting!
hate yourself!
feel like dying!
but most importantly,
enjoy your stay.
you'll be here for a while.

i'd like to know how staying in a hospital
is described as a "comedy drama".
my "red-band society"
was nothing like the show depicts
these kids
these kids are happy
they're joyous while they're flirting and making out in a closet
for ****'s sake, that's not even high school
the nurses aren't your friends
they aren't there to hold your hand while you die
they have jobs to do and lives to save
my red-band society was me and my moms
but i was the only one who participated in the activities
i laid in bed with stickers and clips taped across my body
and the sleeve on my arm constricted
every fifteen minutes
i didn't hear laughter in the halls
i heard heart monitors erratically beeping
and hurried footsteps whenever someone was dying
i wasn't laughing over cancer and anorexia
i was laying awake at four in the morning getting my blood pressure checked every hour
the red-band society
is a constant EKG with a prolonged QT
that may lead to arrhythmia
you don't get to go to homecoming
you don't get to run or race in the hallways
hospitals shouldn't be romanticized
cancer isn't fun
anorexia isn't a phase
there is nothing happy about being checked in
about being sick
i was miserable
and this show is glorifying disease
kids are going to want to be hospitalized
there's no knowing what they'll do
to achieve what the program advertises
i'd like to know if the maker of the show
is in their right mind.
granted, people's experiences differ
but kids shouldn't be promised damaged friends
if they stop eating
if they run away from home
a hospital isn't a ******* playground
or a child's domain
the fact that they are showing doctors being this irresponsible is nauseating
nothing revolves around you
there are other people who need help too
and children will harm themselves
with the expectation of of video games and relaxation.

when i cant sleep at night

colors come into my sight

and infiltrate my brain.

green, soft grass and anxiety

warm summer nights, i try to be

calm and relaxed but here i stay the cold spring

saint patrick’s day and waterfalls

pollen and flowers above all

irritate my weaknesses and i need to be blessed yet again

sweet hazel eyes and

cerulean nights

haunt my dreams until the morning is bright

yellow, kind bees and annoyance

city ****** above the celebration joyous

baby ducks and easter pair perfectly with early gunshots

i’m okay, i’m okay

spring and summer and what day

am i asleep am i awake

is this real or is this fake

yellow used to be calm

winnie the pooh had no qualms

but now it buzzes constantly in my head

a lifeless drone makes me wish i was dead

blue, rumbing ocean, shining sea

white-capped waves that bring pure glee

i used to crawl so eagerly

down to the water before my mom stopped me

she’d known i’d drown.calm currents could pull me down

falling rain feeds the riptides

as a kid i didn’t mind

but now i know the dangers that hide behind

the waters contain jellyfish lies

luminescent puffs so nice

but if you get to close!

well,

if looks could ****.

one wrong step in the deep blue

could end up killing you.

white, pure, clean, safe

a facade that really lets chafe

when the colors begin in my head i must make post-haste

because white thunders and shakes my brain

dry lightning snaps and electrocutes all sane

it hurts it stings it bends it breaks

what do i do what do i do

how to i breath how do i get through

i’m scared and lost and shivering and sorry

even though i’m getting hurt i can’t help but worry

i want to scream but the white fills my lungs

squeezing my chest and snatching my tongue

i’m scared

…red.

red is pain, love, marriage and divorce

red is *** put upon you by force

abuse, apologies, a shouted curse

poems read without a verse

…but red is apples, cider and tea

christmas and fall and halloween

warm sweaters and burning embers

brick fireplaces and donation centers

i’ve been sitting here for too long

maybe a slow burn isn’t so wrong.



i wake up to black.

a spine, a needle, a laptop cord

an entire sentence without one word

the reality i’ve come to know

has disappeared after come and go

i guess i’m okay with the way things are now

point A to point B without knowing how

as long as it isn’t other’s pain and only mine

this emptiness here—this is fine.

i'd like to say i'm sorry
to everyone i've inconvenienced with my identity.
i'm sorry that it's such a struggle for you to say "he"
i'm sorry i'm not a dog so you can actually feel guilty
about misgendering me.
i didn't know that who i am is such a problem
that i cause you so much trouble
and i should take responsibility.
it's okay to pause and correct yourself
and maybe talk to me afterwards
but when you blow it up and complain
you make me want to scream.
for some reason you treat pets better
and i understand, i know
but i deserve a little more respect than something owned.
i'm sorry i inconvenience you with the way i dress
that i don't look enough like a boy for you to even try
i'm sorry that i don't wear basketball shorts and nike shirts
to convince you i have a *****.
but guess what?
i dont.
i'm a boy who wears pink with
"female parts"
because you are too scared to say "******".
do you ask random people to pull down their pants so you can validate them?
if we stick to gender norms
would you tell a girl to take her pants off
because they're not "ladylike"?
meanwhile you tell boys that it's okay to take girls' clothes off without asking.
you say you acknowledge my identity
yet you still tell me to take off my clothing because it's too "girly".
and when i say
"what's wrong with that?"
you spit back
"nothing, then why aren't you a girl?"
I don't need to be a girl to respect a human being
but that's how it generally is.
i'm 15 and i know more than most 60-year-olds
we should know better by now to at least treat people like people
because i am not a pet
i do not have a leash
you cannot dress me or neuter me
i can have whatever genitals i want
because you don't own me.
i am not a slave you had centuries ago and still make jokes about
i shouldn't have to apologize for that.
i'm not a wound you can heal
you can't just apply burn cream and a band-aid and forget about me.
don't treat me like a broken bone
like i need a splint
though i'm not okay on my own,
i don't need you to tell me who i should be.

it's hard enough for me
to conjure up my strength in the form of words
i shouldn't have to shout at the top of my lungs
just to be heard
sometimes i'm the boy who cried wolf
and others i'm a canary in a coal mine
it's too hard in this country
to try and fight for my rights
i don't care if they take my life
i will let everyone else fly

closets are for clothes, not for fear
lockers are for books, not my peers
jail is for rapists and the streets are for protests
not vice versa

is this too hard to understand?
are you too busy saying "war" instead of stealing land?
are you too involved in bigotry and pro-life
saying a marriage should be a man and his wife?

newsflash, *******, this isn't 1890
open up your mind to something less blinding
women aren't objects and their insides aren't purses
not meant to hide all their tampons and zip up their curses

besides,
zipped lips can't quell a revolution
we're fine without your exclusion
because of your conclusion
that we don't matter.

my throat hurts from screaming my name
people try so hard to bring me pain
honestly, i don't know how i stay sane
i have to yell in their faces to gain some respect
their dissection of my being makes me a monster
giving me feelings i try not to foster
and i want to hurt them back.

i want to destroy them for stealing my confidence
for planting fear in the soil of my soul
for declaring war on what they find obscure

it's easy to realize
that their words are not an army
and their fists are not drones
but when their weapons strike
and their bullets pierce any shade of skin
screams fill the air and they grin
our society is the Lord of the Flies
and we are the pigs.

when i die
there will be riots in the streets
screams across the nation
a flash flood of tears
american flags serving as pyres

my blood will spill out
in the form of flowers
from a bullet wound
painting the ground with roses
attacking the police with thorns
growing from my bound chest
towards the sky.

i will cough up vines
and smile
with red on my lips
and petals in my teeth
so my curses will be laced with poison
and my death will be excellence.

i used to
look up to you, y’know?
but it got bad
and i believed every word you said.
and every day i got into bed i didnt sleep
i talked to you
you spun stories of lies that caught my brain like a fly in a web
i was trapped
but i was okay
i thought
i was okay
even when you started telling me i was worthless what mattered to me was that you still said “i love you”
the worst part was
i believed it.

i wish i could go back in time to save myself from those cuts and lies
i wish i could give my past some confidence to stand up to you to say
i am a god
and i create things that you couldnt even dream of
because as you slept your night away in your cozy bed without a thought of me in your head i was awake
doing your work and trying to make myself good enough for you
i wrote stories and poems and letters to express my feelings
and you rejected them
my moms were prepared for big kids to bully but no one knew how to deal with you
i was broken
i was young
and i was gone
i had heard of people getting abused and i promised myself that it wouldnt happen to me
but i didnt know
no one knew
only you.

i thought when you get older you get better
so i couldnt wait to grow up
you were years ahead so i thought what you did was right
and what i thought was wrong
and who i used to be was wrong
because that’s what you told me.

i loved art
and my friends
and my family
but you didn’t want that
so i stopped loving them
i gave my life to a man halfway across the country with a keyboard and microphone to rewrite my being
to this day i still remember how late i stayed up
the stars faded to dawn and i had stopped noticing

it took me long enough to understand that
the world isnt dealt by one hand
and i am not the joker.
you cant take me out and push me aside, no
i am the king, queen, jack, ace,
i have my highs and lows but i’m my own saving grace
the world isn’t so black and white and blue
and the stars are just fine without you.

there are a few things that go through my mind
when someone misgenders me or uses the wrong name

my name is easier to remember?

the pronouns are tiny, tiny words and

why would you do that?

do you know what it feels like to hear your past and want to *****?
you may not like violence
but right now you're punching me in the mouth
and since when am i an "it"?
tell me how i am a freak of nature
tell me how i am a monster
i am a living thing, we learned that in science
even though i take medication every morning
i am not sick
even though i have to hold back bile every time i shower
i am not sick
you are not doctors
how can you diagnose me?
why would you?
my gender is not your property
i am not a dog
i will not be your *****
you do not have the power to define me
i will be whatever the **** i want to be
really, it's none of your business
our entire childhood we were told to be ourselves
but now i am spited and questioned and laughed at because i am not what they wanted.
maybe being human isn't enough.

lover, you burn my eyes open in the winter
as a branding iron presses into hide.
you've stitched your vision behind my eyelids
and soaked cigarette smoke into my clothes.

make me your casualty of war
and i will still love you in death.
i am a vagabond of the dunes
and you are the burn that scorches my feet.

you are calligraphy on a bathroom stall
you engrave your message into my mind
and pour gasoline on my unconscious being.
lover, throw the match.

i will kiss her hands
the hands that write intricate poetry on paper
or draw excellent artwork on a tablet
the same hands that held instruments to scar herself in defiance of her life
are the hands that type out "i love you" each day
for some reason she presses bruises so hard into her skin
that her fingerprint is engraved in her flesh
like a criminal record
her hands build up cities before tearing them apart
she is a goddess to be feared
i need her to know that it's okay.

i will trace her scars
as cliché as it sounds
she needs to realize that i love every part of her
and every part of her is beautiful
just because she doesn't get reminded enough
doesn't mean she should feel ashamed
they're just battle scars
and the war is almost over.

i will hold her.
because we both need a shoulder to cry on
but she doesn't have the same love at home
her feelings can't stay bottled up
i know how bad it is when no one listens
how it feels when you don't want to disturb the air around you
but if you shake soda it will explode
and humans are more volatile than C4
i will do everything to stop the fire from spreading

i will not kiss her goodbye
because for some reason she believes i should move on
get her over with
that she shouldn't have become one of my bad endings like so many before
as if she did me wrong.
she did herself wrong
because i've never felt more awake when i sleep
i've never been so happy to have feelings

for god's sake i will tell her i love her
so maybe she will too.

home is where the heart is

and i live in the sky

my friends come and go

but i’ll always know

that the stars will be by my side.

they shift and dance around

and sometimes disappear

but come spring again

and those stars will reappear

people are so fickle an sly

and their emotions show in their eyes

so it’s easy to see through the lies

but when i look to the skies

the stars shine in my eyes

and all i can see is light.

i can always trust the sky

though it changes day and night

it will forever be watching me.

though people come and go

ill always know

the stars will always be there to tell me stories when the people i love cannot.

God is any man with a gun, and we all live at His mercy.