I am done with this game you play; alas, we can't all have our way.
I'm more than a toy you choose to enjoy at your leisure--
Do you think this brings me pleasure?
In a moment's time, you are both mine and not, never were, or will ever be!
Do you like fooling me?
You bait and tease and fill me with unease,
But you have a love to appease you--I do not.
I never have, and may never know that ease of heart.
Do you even care that it tears me apart?
Am I wrong to feel this way?
Yes, and no, I suppose.
I respected your wish, and gave friendly hands,
But compliance can't even meet your demands.
A friend comes with no expectation; and yet, a friend knows when the game is done.
You can't offer me heaven only to drag me through hell.
Oh well, I sigh, and blow a kiss.
You confess to know this--
This halfhearted bliss!
But the game goes because you know I won't win.
Go back to your comforts and leave me to rot within.

If it be that all the world is a stage and we are but players?
If its okay with the producer and director... can I just help paint the set!?
Someone else can have my role in the show.

I cannot quite articulate
the inescapable frustration
that you are to me.
i adore you.
𝘐 𝘈𝘋𝘖𝘙𝘌 𝘠𝘖𝘜!
i adore you-
BUT 𝙄 𝘼𝙈 𝙏𝙊𝙊 𝙈𝙐𝘾𝙃 𝙁𝙊𝙍 𝙔𝙊𝙐!
AND I SUPPOSE LATER ON
i will cry
my stupid
eyes out.

Buzzing
Static
Anticipation
Adrenaline
The calm before the storm
This is what my insides feel like, and I don't know how to get it out.
I feel frustrated and useless.
This is all I can feel, right now.
Everything else is empty.

I don't write anything
Unless I have to
And even then I hold myself to ridiculous standards
Every word must be an opus
Every line must touch some place deep
My mind falters at every step
******* journal entries are written for an invisible eye
Nothing is enough for human consumption
Not this
Not anything after
It all melts in my hand
And seeps back into my body
Words never said
Dissociation is veiled upon
A vacant face and body
Waiting to be revived

The beautiful pictures in my mind
I can't seem to put on paper
It kills me inside that
I can't put you on paper

In this day and age,
The mysterious ways
Of men and their money
Fill all of our days.

A hashtag,  an update,
A notification.
Just to remind me
Of my situation.

Three years on the streets
Meant nothing to me,
But it showed me a world
Few ever should see.

Now Texas takes notice,
Financial aid!
The catch is,  of course,
My ****** GPA.

They do this on purpose.
I'm ignorant? My ***!
"You've got seven hundred dollars
To spend before class."

"You can buy anything here,
No gift cards, of course. "
I said "this isn't a buffet;  
That's a smorgasbord! "

Give me three new shirts,
All the books for my classes,
A new backpack,  a hoodie,
Alumni- framed glasses.

Then,  send me an email,
At nine in the morning
That I'll be dropped
by four p.m. without warning!

So much for sleep.
It's time for *******.
Because these ****** people
Are pulling THIS **** again.

Loan counseling? What's that?
"In forty- eight hours
The approval will come back. "

Are you being serious?
I'm better off smoking crack!
Just give me my education,
And stay the hell off my back!

I hate pottering around inside my mind
With no reason or rhyme, like I'm retired-
Poking through cobwebbed corners,
Pulling at age-old tablecloths, considering
A garden party for me and my little lost smile
There in the half-wild,
With the sun like messy oil I'll have to wash
Out of my hair and clothing when I'm done.

I hate playing docile card games alone,
Laying out plans like pictures I'll never colour in-
My doughy brain pokes stimulus off the shelf  
And traps itself in kindergarten daydreams;
I fingerpaint endlessly,
Defining the world through crayon senses,
Crushing, mushing cookies and shaking
Clumsy maraca beats.

If only I could lie down in soft rustic flesh
Snatching handfuls of it to conceal my skin
Finally, finally filling myself in
Buried alive for good
And be expelled, again, into blazing harshness
Choking on the earth that forms my body
Crying, crying for hope and fresh presence
Coming to life for good.