everything I did
didn't make sense at all

same with

What I did for you
you didn't feel anything

It's feel something more crazy than I jumb into big river
My hearth just metled in every side

you
just you..
what anything else?
it was cool
I could felt it
thanks before

It's a small bottle with a cap.
It smells like cinnamon
And it's made of glass.
I filled it with as many languages as I know
And sealed the cap with wax
And I filled the little bottle with all of the things
Middle school me needed to hear.

I hope she finds it.
I know she won't.
She looked at stars but could not
Reach them.
She watched the scalloped water, she would not
Touch it.
She always saw the empty in the ocean,
She never saw the future I put there.

I put a message in a bottle and sent it into space.
I filled it with hope for someone
I've never met,
The people I have always been.
As I watched it wash away,
I knew I needed it back.
I am not done needing it.

I told them all
eres suficiente,
you are enough,
I never got to know if I was.

I never got a bottle back.

Because it’s never quiet
I want to blame it on the lack of silence backstage
But there’s no denying I’m pushing myself to a breaking point
Busying myself because I can’t stand to be home
But I can’t stand to leave it
It’s Tuesday evening and my feet are so numb they bleed
Because I never stopped running
I never stopped running
I want to run away again so bad
The first time was a trainwreck
The only thing stopping me now is the cold of these winter evenings
I’d rather die by my own hand than die by the frostbite
Could you call me abused
Could you call me abused
I think I’m borderline
I think I’ve set up too many lifelines linking me to some small Missouri town
And I don’t know how to escape it
Somebody take me away
Make me awake
Take me far away from running so far my feet bleed
I want something else to live for
Is that too much to ask
Is it
Am I enough
Is this enough
Is my writing ever going to be enough for me
I know people read this and they never respond
Is this good enough to spur words
Will anything I ever write be good enough
Am I
Am I supposed to get mean for your approval?
My parents never taught me another way to earn it

They don’t write poetry about the unrequited
This stuff starts slow
I love myself and hate myself at the same time
But lately I’m leaning more towards the disliking
There’s a voice in my head
Not really there
I’d call it a thought
It’s just static
It’s just background noise
It yells
I say things kindly as I can manage
This guy screams them
And I know it’s just me wanting to let it out
Forget me and just be happy
I’m not worth giving a life up for
I’m not worth it
I’m not worth money and invitations and group projects
So leave without me
I can handle it
I know that I’m disgusting
I don’t want to leave
I’m scared of it
I’m scared of how hard it is to get out of bed in the morning
Am I supposed to take care of myself
I can barely make myself eat
I can’t speak
It’s a different feeling
Being stuck in bed all day because you can’t force yourself awake
I know I have a lot of energy but it depletes by the day
I miss my dad
And I ******* hate him
I wish so badly he’d start to understand that I am a teenager
That I write
That I bleed a need for caring
I stopped being a child too many years ago
It’s his fault
I want him to leave without me
I don’t want to go anywhere near him
I want him to leave me alone
He’s responsible for the mess you see writing this
Do you think fathers realize when their sons are destined to be failures
I want to hold a hand
In a comforting way
I’m tired of being sick of all this
Is it fine that all I feel is this darkness
Am I ever going to be enough
Enough for who
Am I enough for you
Are you even reading this
Who are you
Can you tell me
Can you tell me if I’m enough
Or if I’ll ever be
All I need is someone to tell me that they love me
I know that’s selfish
And I know I don’t deserve it
But it’s all I can do not to plead for it

I mashed and bashed myself
just to be a ****** up version of me
a version of me that wasn’t me at all
someone that still didn’t stop your wandering eye

Love for her is
Kissing till lips bleed
Eyes begging for more
Covered bruised hips
He builds his walls
Two by four

He must have kissed his fist
Before they reached your terrified face
For any form of love
Is good when its rough
For one who has never been
Enough

I was there when you need someone. I was there when your world is so dark. I was there yet you still chose her. Why? What's wrong with me? Am I not enough?

She'll never not be enough.