Attentive eyes
    and nervous jitter,
trembling hearts
await their fate

barbaric practice
of modern acceptation
fear is faced
  in university fashion

Navy blue professor,
    of conductor hands

I always end up
Self-destructing, leaving those
Close wounded or dead.

I wish I could write better poems,
The kind that everybody could enjoy, not necessarily relate to.
I write poems about the explosion of emotions,
The kind where words left and right are skewed.

I wish I could be a trendsetter,
But most days I can't even get up from bed.
I cry into my hole-filled sweater
And continue to view nothing but dread.

I wish I could feel feelings the way people do,
But I find it hard at times.
I wish I was normal and could get through
But all I have are my rhymes.

there is no need
to throw grenades
at me; when I am
already a living,
ticking timebomb