the time that you told me to die
was painful that I didn't even try
slapping you

I don't know if you lied
but all I knew was it was possible
that you wished I did

I tried to make it up to you;
avoiding hurting you
with the fist,
and temper of mine

I just wished you noticed that I tried;

Yes, I've grown distant,
trying to find one's self;
I was occupied, sad, and alone.

Too busy to find friends,
that won't discard me when I needed someone

I guess that I pushed you away
so that you won't be like me.
An envious, gullible fool
but
as I did,
the more you become
a little more
like me.

We're the opposite of each other
but undeniably similar.

What flawed design is this? Framed by greed, eyed by chance,
Do you think so easily you can entrap me in this dance?
It is a marriage contract in which I have no choice -
I have no ground, no sound, no voice...
I cannot. What? Either it is my future or my siblings' in jeopardy.
I exaggerate - We can afford this, but barely.
Minimum student loan: The bane of many, the burden of many
Burden of unrealistic measures. You ask me to live off borrowed money
On borrowed time? You ask me to learn as others did off reflections from the past,
When time has moved on, and moved on fast?
When the world is barking at these measures, and still it continues,
And I, at risk of being denied an education, cannot refuse
To do things, not just by halves, but by even by eighths.
And would I, I would refuse another year, and hope the Fates
Prove kind. Do they prove kind to those who complain?
Who ever loved a rebel, when the rebel was alone?

My indicator light's stopped working
near side at the rear.
I do right turns only
guessing my way, oh dear.

I'll spiral towards my destination
that's the plan, you see.
But I end up where I've started.
How stupid can one be?

Put a new bulb in the other day,
now the brake light's broke.
Is this for real,
or is this a joke?

So I think, brakes are for losers.
Slowing down or circling like a goof,
I'd get there so much faster
if I fixed a blue light to the roof.

Congratulations on your victory
it’s a shame the blood got on your clothes,
but each blade and pin you stick in me
will stain each and every thread anyone sews.
I hope that you are feeling proud
that you still have the power to wound,
as you want it known and shouted loud
“look at another thing I successfully ruined”

Go on and paint me as the villain,
just make sure that you’ve shaded well.
Every inch of the canvas is filled in,
express that story and scene that you wish to tell.
I’m not going to beg for mercy,
I’m not going to call you a hack.
I’m just sorry you see the worst in me,
if I was a mirror I’d be reflecting it back.

Well done on your gigantic win
I know the scene isn’t set exactly right,
ignore the blood, the guts and the skin,
we’ll have it cleaned by tomorrow’s first light.
Continue to embrace your golden moment,
though you didn’t have to work too hard.
Good fortune and a carefully picked opponent;
one who was already stressed and scarred.

Go on, cast me as an antagonist
but make it believable in each line.
Illustrate my hand holding a demand list,
but my other one has a white flag hidden behind.
I’m not going to plead for forgiveness
and I’m not searching for approval,
because when something is as vicious as this sickness
it’s a quick call for it’s removal.

This isn’t an invasion
it takes two sides to fight a war,
and you’ve given every clear indication
this is what you’ve been waiting for.
We don’t need bullets or guns,
we don’t need forces in the air or sea,
‘cause we’ve both got our mouths, and our tongues,
and a lot of repressed ancient history.

Why the incessant heart ache
that comes with its persisting beat
the reiteration of menacing thoughts
-Inability to sit still in your seat.
a clenching jaw & those rapid eyes
implies the existence of a disturbed soul,
trapped between heavy walls of meat
at the pit of the minds' profound hole.
Are you in distress & unrest
in a state of mournful agitation
inflicted into lifes entangled turbulence
with no forewarning or invitation          
unwelcome thoughts linger to & fro        
pacing through the hallway of your head
from the livid past to a murky future    
Your senses awoke in - infrared.

But.

I know you are, but.

But what? Is this so
inconceivable?
So inconvenient?

We don't control these things,
not forever.
Perhaps when we're young
and scared,

So when we finally settle in,
into our own skins,
everyone has
something to say.

"But this isn't who
you used to be;
this isn't who I know-"

Well, I'm more myself
than ever before,
and I refuse to fall
into your perfect view.

I feel safe
just out of focus,
and there is where I'll stay.

A poem is not a place
to belong
It’s hard and rough
treacherous and long
words are wounded
bled and blended
the rhymes are lies
stiff short and ended
lines are cut
and dissected
meanings fray
if not mended
a poem is no place
too small
to find your space
without a wall
or ground to pace
no not at all
no support or hold
for a poor poet
not to fall