the words that whisper inside your head,

the thoughts that hang on feeble thread

sowing silent stories inside your mind,

unwritten, lost, the kind

that never reach the lips.

the conversations exchanged in glances

in the darkness of night, an eye that dances

I hold my breath and let my eyes speak

"what are you thinking”

“I don’t know"

but in all honesty

I'm thinking,

I'm weak.

i want to talk with someone
but i don't know how to say it
i want to talk just talk
not about specific life events or what i ate for dinner last night
please don't ask me about my family or my academics
ask me why my replies get short when you ask me how i am
tell me more than
well i'm glad you're still breathing
when that's my response to your short question
i know
that i can twist my words into appearing positive even when they're not
i know that my sarcasm doesn't always transcend beyond the computer's algorithms
i know that you don't know how to mitigate my suffering
and that's fine
really
it is
so we'll talk about you and your great life adventures
even though right now
i want to talk about the poem i just read by andrea gibson
i want to talk about my writing professor and her brilliant mind and how i've never been more motivated to get to class just so i could sit there and take in the simple grandeur
i want to talk about the night sky and i know it's overrated woohoo the stars and moon huzzah for the earth's night light but have you ever noticed
how when you stand out in the middle of the road at 2 am in the morning,
the world down here is silent and flat but up there, the galaxies stretch and bend beyond the eye can see, the stars are all placed so perfectly
hapharzardly scattered about but in the right places
sometimes they're so dim, you know?
i will never stop aweing over the miracle of the sky nor will i ever not stand in the middle of the road at 2 am in the morning on a rough night just to be reminded of the beauty that's still there within each and every one of us even though sometimes we can't see it
i want to talk about the dream i had last night
and the night before that and how i am scared to fall asleep because my mind is a ******* complex and ***** thing that can thread unimaginable hypotheticals through something that was supposed to be peaceful
i don't want to sleep
i want to talk
i want to talk with someone
because i'm tired of talking to myself
-
-rgp

"Give it back to me"

"But what will you do with it?"

"I will mend it, tend to it,
and when it's beating like a drum
pumping blood, pounding love,
I'll give it to him
who inspires new life into it"

"Hmm...then I'm not giving it back
I can't see your heart beat for another"

"Okay then, keep my dying half
You're killing it anyway
The half you've left me with
is enough for me
and him"

Dear Julie,
******* right back
or should I say jules
******* jules
with your stupid dumb name
your no jewel
your smile may sparkle
but your heart is made of coal
you try to hate me with your letters and words
you may even think you do
but you love me
I've got that bad boy edge
and all you've got is that vape
your goofy laugh bursts without warning
i may go deaf if it happens again
dear god please let me go deaf
i wouldn't have to hear your slanted remarks
always trying to cut deep with old memories
but you are the one thats still bleeding
you don't even have a shower to wash it away
i still have you around my finger
writing poems in exchange of a fake reason to come hang out
don't even try to deny it
cuz I'm the ****
and you just stink