You know
People are selfish
And they continue to hurt me
And you could say why not talk to them?
Explain or try?
There's never a point
In trying

They'll start denying
They'll start crying
To your face
While lying
Never making
A real effort
Never bothering
they can't afford
To change

Selfish in exchange
For my hurt feelings
Every single person.
I was born too kind
That's my issue
And it's not
Some kind of self pity
Tissue

It's true
I am not perfect
By no means
I've hurt others
Who didn't deserve it
I've made amends
I made effort
showed changed behavior
showed I savor
Making them
Feel better

Nobody
Does the same
Every one is to blame
Small or big
They hurt me
With a grin
They are selfish
Careless
And
Inconsiderate
I'm so tired
I might consider it

Being alone
Letting my anger show
Telling them all where
To ******* go
Letting go
For once
Not being nice
Being selfish
Like every other
*******
Guy

How can you all lie?
How can you all say you try?
And deny
With such a look
In your eye
You don't mean it
You cut me
I'm still bleeding

You are all wielding
The knife
This cold little life
You all play
Like it's a game
You're never to blame

Look inward
You selfish little flames
Burning out soon
Like a lying
Cheating groom
Figuring out
Your next
Move

Look inward
And see
Being selfish
acting carelessly
Gets you nowhere
Well maybe in this life
It'll get you somewhere
Desire is like fire you know
It burns out
Ashes are cold
And alone

So wherever you think you'll go
Remember you reap what you sow
You all told me I'm hard to hold
No,
I think it's you
You're all
Going to be
Lost in the cold

Never looking twice
At your own
Souls

My pillow is my silent guide,
A therapist where fears confide.
In moments when my heart's on fire,
I scream into its cotton spire.

It muffles all my ragged cries,
Absorbing every tear that dries.
A sanctuary soft and near,
It holds my pain, my darkest fear.

No judgment in its tender folds,
Just comfort that it gently holds.
When life is more than I can bear,
My pillow’s always waiting there.

A witness to my sleepless nights,
It knows my lows, it feels my heights.
In muffled screams, in quiet weep,
My pillow grants me peaceful sleep.

need a friend?
the doubts live inside of me like citizens
that walk slowly in courthouses ready to sue.
all their passions are out of wack,
they only know how to survive by shooting down others.
every hollow house i was led to, hand in hand,
as i trusted you to guide me.
i need a friend.
i need the fever, the fire, the rage, the shooting star, the red seething blood.
any warmth to remind myself of tenderness,
even if it is without at the core.
i need anticipatory silence, waiting your filthy hands to slap the dinner table and i rush to clean the shattered plates.
don’t hurt me,
be gentle,
don’t make me smaller.
make me smaller,
make me writhe,
make me smaller,
quieter, less of a burden.
be responsive,
make me spill.
i need a friend.
the panic has large hands that choke me,
has a large frame to push me deep
and never lift me out.
though, i will not make do with violence,
i am not silent when it comes to love that festers.
need a friend?
the breaths i take will be for you.
the day is wicked
and you are so tender,
i would like this meal to be filling,
i would like you to stay a while.

Every time I eat here,
I wonder if she’s still in the restroom.
I watch the cakes orbit
On refrigerated turntables—
a silent waltz for the ballerinas running omelets and coffee.
Back when she excused herself to the restroom,
the hostess was probably still in diapers.

The sticky sap crawls down my limbs
Violating the purity of flowers and foliage all around
I want to become one with the trees
One with the garden and dirt
From which I sprouted.

I look at the crimson endlessly pouring from my wound.
It lets me know that for now I am still human.
Not yet plant or earth but soon.
Soon I will be.

Maybe the creatures
will have families and love
So in death I could have
What I could not receive in life.
My bones will finally be a home
that they never were for me.

When I get close to people,
I tend to overshare.
especially when I spot a shared interest.

You’re into cheesy memes?
I’ll flood your inbox with my favorites
You like scary things?
Even if I’m not always into them
I’ll find the ones I do like
thinking you’ll appreciate them too

But lately,
I’ve started to think...
maybe people don’t like this.
Because over time
they start to drift away.

It stings to be labeled a copycat
When all I've ever wanted is friendship
People close to me that I can be open with.

Maybe I'm meant to float alone
Like a golden jelly,
I should make my own pattern.