Just take two second to block out everything
Focus on the present moment
Think about what you're doing right now;
What you wish you were doing,
And what you want to do one day,
Or what you
Want to change
Focus on the fact that it is so simply to change your life;
Your way of thinking;
Anything is possible for you
Stop overanalyzing your every move
Take two seconds to go into a deep concentration of chaos and bliss
Knowing that one day you will be gone
And you won't want to regret
Not exploring,
Telling someone you love/hate them
Simply existing is not ideal
Go live
Make art
Cry and laugh
Fall in love with everything
Take two ******* seconds to try and figure it out
Fail
Try again

Despite my efforts,
I burnt the cookies.

Ate them anyway.

I want to write a poem
That will stand out from the crowd.
I don't much want to whisper
But to shout it rather loud.

And if somebody's passing
Well perhaps they'll give me praise.
Then I'll express with great finesse
"It's more than just a phase ...

You see, I'm rather clever
I've been told to have a go.
For it's been said, I have a voice
To, let my juices flow".

But sitting at this keyboard
It's harder than it seems.
I haven't got a gift at all
But merely have my dreams ...

Desert air
dry and lonely, but not
without a desperation,
blows down tired throats
with kisses, which come
rushing in,
the heat of universal grasping.

It isn’t strange
given common speeches
on hearts eaten
and hearts desired,
recounted with a coldness
born of the same places
as the heat.


But it is strange
the inability to swallow the chafing devils
making sandbags out lungs.
These will not choke the fools
who walk upon them,
even as the one eyed hermit,
whose sand scorched feet
belie his travels, cackles
“Well, at least for now."

I ponder, perhaps too much, of how I've lost my touch. I wonder if, in my delusion, it was just a dreamed haven. Somewhere in the hours of meditation, someway I've lost my salvation. My thoughts are trapped and closed like a man-lake is cement opposed, like soaring eagles discover they are just gifted wren actors, or the chlorine stinging your eyes is the spray of ocean waves crying. I feel like a snuffed candle trying to burn, a cloud wisp trying to rain, a parched rose trying to flourish, a winter breeze trying to warm your fingers. Suddenly I feel a kith with the discarded plastic bottles littering my beach, for, like them, I am searching for a purpose out of reach: the woes of a cursed wordsmith.

When I am in statistics I cannot focus
because the world around me is ending in my mind
slowly fading into something without meaning
until I cannot breathe and I have to leave
to go cry in the bathroom.

When I am in my statistics class I cannot focus
because there is a boy there who looks like my favorite **** star
I know what his ***** looks like
     or might look like
     Schrödinger's **** in a box.

I cannot help but stare at him and
picture him in gym shorts and no boxers
or cargo pants and no boxers
or just in boxers
or.

It's an uncomfortable feeling of morbid intrigue that
makes me tap my toes too fast.

I want to know him.

I want to tell him that
I love the way he smiles
and laughs and communicate s
and makes sure everyone is safe and happy.

I can only watch **** that has behind-the-scenes features.
It's comforting to know that
everyone is happy and
everything is consensual and
everyone is having fun.
I get too invested in these people, too attached -

One time I had to give up
and take a moment to breath
because I was just so overwhelmed with pride
Like a parent watching their kid graduate after all their hard work.

And that feeling is not okay.

And seeing that boy in my class is not okay,

Because I feel so proud of all he's accomplished
So when he answers a question right in class all I can think about is
When he ****** a **** on camera for the first time
And the first time he licked whipped cream off another man's *******
And it's very distracting.

When I am in statistics I cannot focus
because I start to worry that I will fail this class
and then I start to worry that I will hate my future
and then I worry about having a future in the first place,
bunching up into an unfocused, panicking, asthmatic mess.

The **** star boy is a distraction.

It's because of him that I'm passing this class.



( and in a way, a stupid, silly way,
it's because of him that I'm alive. )

Who would have known that such a strong friendship could start with a pile of books and a pair of crutches?
Strangers at first but sisters next
When sadness strikes my feeble heart she's there to patch it right up
We have had many adventures together which include but are not limited too
Breaking plungers, making forts, watching anime, bothering people, TREPCHMM (one of the many inside jokes), and most importantly failing at life together
A girl who can create the most beautiful things and cure the saddest of hearts
She'll stun you with her beauty and her immense knowledge
The only sad part about our friendship is
She refuses to read this