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Jun 18 · 26
high school drama
tacet Jun 18
at a crossroads
between child and adult,
when you can’t decide
what to care about
who to care about
or when to care

sometimes it’s easier
to jump up on a table
in a crowded cafeteria
and scream 80’s song lyrics
than it is
to ask a boy his name.
Jun 18 · 39
food for thought
tacet Jun 18
you mock my “lol”
my “ya”
my “c u l8r”

you tell me I’m childish

but that nigerian prince
has worse grammar than me
and HE’s sure the real deal
this is not meant to be a good or meaningful poem I promise
Jun 18 · 24
why poetry?
tacet Jun 18
I once dreamed I’d be an author—
then, I was still unaware
that I lack a knack for stories
but I do have rhythmic flair
May 24 · 68
open letter
tacet May 24
dear mistress of the wicked,
friend of the darkness,
purveyor of evil
and gracelessness and sin,
unanimously considered
the single nastiest force
in the universe:

I fear some residents
of planet earth
are trying to steal your title.
mind if you sic ‘em for us?
tacet May 24
I don’t believe in luck
and yet it infiltrates my thoughts
when it deems itself most convenient.
if I sit in my room,
playing whatever silly match-three
has snatched up my interest this week,
my losses are justified by,
“see, it’s really just luck-based.
I would’ve won with better patterns
already existing on the board.”
obviously, what I mean here
is that it’s based in randomization,
yet I never seem to think so.
and the same if I see a story
of a person or family
suffering the worst life can offer
and pity the down-on-their-luck few.
it’s as if I am looking
for something, someone else to blame
for my misdeeds, misfortunes,
but I never feel lucky
when I avoid them on my own.
good luck is used sarcastically
or when offering pleasant nothings
to those around me.
now, the concept of luck confuses me
as well as irks me,
but considering it is something to do
while I wait for new lives
on my match-three game.
lucky me.
May 17 · 24
tacet May 17
you know:
when you give me that look
over the buttons on your instrument—
a brass whatever-you-call-it—
where your eyes are bugging out
and your lips are pursed inward
like you’re some sort of frog
and your face holds the purple tinge
from a lack of air,
you look ridiculous.
i always make sure to tell you.

you don’t know:
when you give me that look
after you finish losing your mind
over one of my terrible jokes
where your eyes are shining
with something i can’t quite place
and your lips are pulled back
in a smile—that smile—
and your face holds the purple tinge
from a lack of restrained emotion,
you look remarkable.
i always make sure not to tell you.
to something new, but a long time coming.
May 17 · 52
tacet May 17
parting’s such sweet sorrow,
this much I concede.
but is it really parting
when a prisoner is freed?
May 15 · 25
all laced up
tacet May 15
I walked a mile in your shoes.
Because of how well-worn they are,
I drilled a hole right through the sole
Before I made it very far.

You walked a mile in mine, then
Returned with shoes that looked just-bought.
And though one pair was worse for wear
They carried spirit mine did not.
to things with true value.
May 15 · 24
tacet May 15
I first filled up my flowerpots
With greenest greens and bluest blues
But now, I think, as true hues show,
I should've checked the meanings, too.
to superficiality.
tacet May 14
cause I know you just enough
to miss you
to new friends.
Apr 23 · 36
The Beast
tacet Apr 23
He says it was a beastie
Ever so big, in the woods
He says the beastie came in the dark
Came and went an’ came back
And wanted to eat him—
He was dreaming.

Beasts! Where from?
What does that mean but nightmares?
Fear can’t hurt you
Any more than a dream.
There isn’t a beast—how could there be?
You’ll be talking about ghosts and such next.
Be frightened because you’re like that,
But there is no beast in the forest.

There is no beast in the forest,
Just an ignorant, silly little boy.
A blackness within, a blackness that spread.
Pig’s head on a stick.

Fancy thinking the Beast
Was something you could ****!
Do you think you know better?
Aren’t you afraid of me?
This is ridiculous.
You knew, didn’t you?
You know perfectly well
Why things are what they are.
Close, close, close!
I’m part of you.
to my English teacher, for assigning a style of poetry I’d never tried, and to William Golding, who wrote the words that I had the freedom to rearrange.
Apr 19 · 24
Who Are You?
tacet Apr 19
I think it was awfully egocentric
for Nobody to assume
that the first Nobody they met
was exactly just like them
to Emily Dickinson—she didn’t even give Nobody a chance to answer.
Apr 19 · 769
at the market
tacet Apr 19
it costs nothing to be kind
until some ****
decides to jack up the prices
to someone you know.
tacet Apr 19
Start with an idea,
A concept of what seeds need planting.
Your garden, without purpose,
Will be jumbled and stoic.

Some vegetable seedlings-
Start slow. Start small.
When you plant just a few
Your space will naturally blossom.
Some fruits, then;
The ones you think taste sweetest.

Then, sprinkle in some flowers.
Decide whether language is worth more than look-
White tulips, daffodils
Or if you just prefer
To find the prettiest bulbs—
Let others decide for themselves
What your garden means to you.

Ensure that you avoid pesticides
(Unless, of course,
The only type of garden that interests you
Is one that ceases to exist).

Care for it prudently,
Smile as it blossoms,
And look on as it blooms
Into something greater than yourself.
to creation.
Apr 7 · 88
tacet Apr 7
I’m jealous
Of the color you bring.
Of how you paint pictures
I didn’t know could ever exist.

But I know
You don’t mind my envy,
For you selflessly color my life
With all the hues of the sunrise.
to love.
Mar 30 · 132
tacet Mar 30
my dreams have been here in
reality all along

I’ve just only searched for them
when my eyes were closed
to hope.
Mar 30 · 25
tacet Mar 30
I have no name
I have no place
I fell behind
In this long race
And so I stand
And smile and take
What life wants to
Provide me.

You want a name
A place—instead
You hit the wall
Where I lay dead
And ‘til you find
Some hedge to climb
Your place is right
Beside me.
to setting a pace that’s too fast.
Mar 27 · 31
survivor's guilt
tacet Mar 27
a solar flare
is inconsequential to the sun itself
but wreaks havoc
on everything around it

it acts as
its own supernova
and although the world
continues to turn,

it does so
now a few stars lighter
to stars snuffed out too soon.
Mar 27 · 203
tacet Mar 27
I love
the flame that
flickers in your eyes,
looking kindly at a world
that so desperately
wishes for a
to being the change.
Mar 27 · 40
Rest Assured
tacet Mar 27
there are few things I hate more
than when others express their sympathies

for my endless, countless sleepless nights
for my free time consumed by crunch time
for the emotional strain brought on
by a life built on all work, no play

because surely this must be
what my life is like
surely, everything I have
is what I deserve

and I'm not sure how to explain
that my effort and my success
is juxtaposition to the highest degree
to guilt.
Mar 26 · 40
tacet Mar 26
as a child,
I would write poems
about seasons and feelings and smiles
and recite them over the morning announcements.

now I can't decide if I was a better poet at age six
or if I just now think far more than I write,
or if those options are one in the same.
to growing and changing and losing a child's honesty.
Mar 26 · 50
tacet Mar 26
the old swingset in my backyard
feels like home even now.
swinging back and forth,
I gain momentum.

my legs go
forward, backward
forward, backward
as I graph a parabola with my swinging.

higher ups
mean higher lows.
I know this well enough, but
that's never stopped me from chasing the sky.

so I keep going.
up, down,
up, down,
until I find equilibrium.
to carrying on.
Mar 25 · 39
tacet Mar 25
you caught my eye
after two hours in december
and have kept it safe since I left you.

you stole my heart
after twenty-nine hours in march
when I finally came back.

until the three days next august
when we meet once again
I hope you’ll keep me safe.
to maddy, who I’ve spent one day, two days, and a lifetime with.
Mar 25 · 555
tacet Mar 25
I miss you
when you’re gone
and yearn for you
when you’re right next to me
to goodbyes and half-hellos.

— The End —