In an old bedroom filled with art,
I tied my hair up, willingly about to go through the boxed mementos.
A wave of anxiety and nostalgia crash over me,
like The Great Wave of Kanagawa,
while I stood idly framed by the large, cresting waves.

I was born the day I learned how to love,
and cursed when I learned how to feel things too deeply.

Inside the boxed mementos is a timeless tale of two distorted hearts;
Wilted flowers, photographs, old handwritten letters...
Do we box these memories in fear of completely forgetting them?
It was a ticket to a sepia-toned memory lane,
Engulfing my heart and soul,
with  memories that will forever be memories.

IA

I will put in a box
How our eyes locked when we first met
When we finally kissed in the light of the dark party
And when I found out- this was getting heart-to-hearty


I will put in a box
The way you'd gaze at me biting your lower lip
Tension when you pulled me closer
With both your hands on my hip


I will put in a box
Every time we hugged goodbye
How you adapted to my liking
The breath-taking look in your eye


I will put in a box
Our late night walk
How you'd pleasure me anywhere
The way our lips would perfectly lock


I will put in a box
The texts that made me smile
Your shield of protection
Even if that means I won't be happy for a while


I will put in a box
Every **** remainder of you
I will put in a box
All the tears, all the blue


Every cry, ever scream
The pain of not belonging
Hoping that one day
I'll wake up, and no longer be longing.

Inside
       of  
           my    
               head
            
                        Entombed  
                                 is  
                                      a   
                              
                         B   R   A   I   N

                                      Can’t
             ­                                shake
                                                      this    ­        
                                                        ­   feeling
                                                       ­    That  
                                                             ­it’s
                                                             ­not    
                                                      ­       the      
                                                            s­ame
                                                     Infected sickness
                                                Covered with dull pain
                                         A rabid                          werewolf
                         ­             I’m trying                             to tame
                                     Almost off                              the leash
                                    I tug at                                    the reigns
                                    Hold              on  ­       with       sheer will
                                    Have          nothing   ­    to                 gain
                                
                           ­        My                       efforts;                  A joke
                                   Fighting               a freight                   train
                                    Through              gr­it teeth             I smile
                                      Demeanor             ­                       I feign
                                          Failure          ­    coming            soon
                                      ­       My life,         one more        stain


                                             ­                    Lost
                                                          ­         sight
                                                                ­      of
                                                                ­      it
                                                                ­        all
                                                   ­               To
                                                              w­hat
                                                            ­ it
                                                 pertains
                                                      ­I
                                                    am
                                              sinking
                                                down
       ­                                            Spinning in
                                       the drain
                                                    An
                                               endless
                                              battle
           ­                             Forever
                                     the
                                bane
                           ­  Of
                      my
           existence

            No                   longer                    I’m                   sane………

honestly sometimes i get this weird feeling in my soul that lets me know I shouldn’t b on social networks…it is the weirdest feeling and i can’t even explain it… i mean i even get the same feeling when im looking thru my phone..like i don’t belong there. i think my soul is just trying to say. leave the technology alone…your soul doesn’t want that

“Keep that mask on, it will make you look stronger.” They said,
Constricting my empty veins,
Shielding my vulnerability,
Hiding my humanity,
Making my bones stronger but my soul much weaker.

All ‘real men’ must take on this mask,
Exposing fraction of yourself is your task,
‘Real men’ are…
Physical, Strong, Independent, Powerful,
Scary, Hard, Stud, Muscular and
List goes on.

I am scared and I need help,
Scared to rip this mask,
It is such a hard task when,
Wuss, Wimp,
*** and *****,
Are what defines the ‘True men’.

Sitting in this narrow box,
Suffocating from these shallow thoughts,
Attempting to jump out,
Thrown back by societies mouth.