thoughts in my head clouding my sight
my anxieties keeping me up at night
constantly thinking you’re not on my side
thinking that all my demons will collide

there’s something in the water i drink
i know this because i fear what i think
you tell me i’m crazy and that we’re okay
are you tired of reminding me everyday

i spin further away from my truth
i dive deeper into the pain of my youth
digging and searching for some peace
but these voices in my head don’t cease

i remember the rush the joy the ache
knowing there was something at stake
self harm my absolute longest lost friend
i hope that we never ever meet again

It is 10 pm and I’m shrinking again. the familiar shame that is causing me to concave, But I don’t want to die, just wanted to.

I am just tired of light feeling like cheating. I am tired of nutrients becoming a nuisance, Do you hear it snap and curl and twist inside you? or does your leaves get baptized with your healthy? can you grow without thinking about the darkness of your shadow? no? you mean you oxidize each exhale as if it was your own?

Two kids in the yard laugh and play around
But they don't know where they'll end up
It is a conversation they haven't found
On a dark day one will say "hey wassup?"
The other shall reply a resound
"I guess not much"
Then they will talk all night and day
About their greatest dreams
One determined to let go as they decay
The other floating by on schemes
Its on this day that they both determine
That their just each a separate person
So why bother with pointless conversation
They cut each other out for certain
Who are you?
Why don't you ask yourself?
Because asking others never seems to help

My name is Holden Caulfield,
And I might just be a fool.
Picking fights and calling names,
Failing out of private school.

My house is my tombstone,
And killing time is killing me
Like the smoking cigarette
Perched between my teeth.

I'm trading my innocence
For a bottle of apathy
Because the harsh light of reality
Is beating down on me.

I'm so brain dead and bored,
I'm almost six feet in the ground.
Chasing after nothing at all,
A carousel spinning round and round.

I went on a small vacation
To avoid my fate by passing time.
Is idly watching life go by
A punishable crime?

A bunch of plans in my head,
but they're all half hearted.
I'm lacking a catalyst,
but the reaction never started.

I'm the leading actor
In my own theatrical tragedy.
Should I just burn my script,
Instead of becoming a casualty?

I just want to be a kid again,
And put my problems on pause.
I'm fighting against growing up,
A martyr for a dying cause.

I call everyone a phony,
But the truth is still the same.
I'm a smart aleck feigning stupid,
With only himself to blame.

I always thought time went by slow
It felt like my first 30 years took 60 years
Everything just felt like it moved at a snail’s pace
I wanted to be older so bad that I dreamt about it every night
But once I eventually hit 30 time feels like it is in hyper speed
Before I knew it I looked at my license and it said I was 38
I hope the next time I glance at my I.D. I’m not 40
Because being over the hill is not promising
It just means that I’m growing older

What happened to her
Once she was lively and bright
Now she seems broken

Children are carefully put-together structures built of popsicle sticks
taken from the mouths of people they admire
and one single broken word
can send it all crashing down

Like a carrot
When growing
It may not look like much
But underneath the dirt
You are growing
Just believe in yourself
Alive

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗.
“𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠.”

𝙴𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜, 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚜, 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚢.
𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚜, 𝚗𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚟𝚞𝚕𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜.

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙𝚜 𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐.
𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚠𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏.

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚠𝚎𝚋𝚋𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚎𝚜.
𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚞𝚕𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚕𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎.

𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚊 𝚘𝚏 ‘𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏’ 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚊𝚗,
𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚕𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎.



𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚒𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗’𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚟𝚒𝚟𝚊𝚕 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚝𝚜, 𝚏𝚞𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚊𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎.

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚘𝚛 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕.
𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚎 𝚜𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖 𝚘𝚏 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗.



𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚘𝚠.

𝚂𝚘𝚌𝚒𝚎𝚝𝚢’𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚌 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚎𝚗:
“𝙼𝚎𝚗 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚌𝚛𝚢.”
“𝙱𝚘𝚢𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚜.”
“𝙼𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐.”
𝙰𝚛𝚎 𝚙𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚝.

𝙰𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚛𝚢, 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖, 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚞𝚌𝚌𝚞𝚖𝚋 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚍𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝.
𝙷𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚢.

𝙵𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚒𝚝, 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞,
𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚐𝚘.

𝙻𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚗 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚒𝚝, 𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛,
𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢.



𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚞𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍,
𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚞𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚔-𝚝𝚘-𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚔 𝚜𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚎.
𝙰 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚞𝚕, 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐
𝙱𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚕𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚊 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗.

𝙰𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚝𝚘 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚟𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚍
𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑.



𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚝.

𝙸𝚝 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚟𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚝 𝚙𝚑𝚢𝚜𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗.
𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚝.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚝
𝙾𝚛 𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚞𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚜 𝚞𝚙 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚎.



𝙴𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕,
𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚋𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚍𝚊𝚙𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚜; 𝚒𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚕𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚙𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛.

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎
“𝚆𝚑𝚢?” 𝚖𝚊𝚢 𝚋𝚎 𝚊 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛.



𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚓𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚘𝚛 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚘𝚏,
𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜.

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚘𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚑.
𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚊𝚢𝚜.

𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚏𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍,
𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚕𝚕 𝚓𝚘𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙴𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚑.

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛,
𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚜𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚎𝚢𝚎𝚜,
𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗.

i am from pastel purple easter eggs,
princess dresses covered in glitter
— the kind that gets itself everywhere, all over the floor as i spin around and around while singing along to the jonas brothers at the top of my lungs.

i am from that little yellow house on morningwood ( the only one with the triangle roof ) that we would leave to go to disney world, kentucky, georgia, the moon
— anywhere mom wanted.

i am from nana's spaghetti, splattered all over the offwhite velvet dress i got that christmas morning as i watch any and every disney movie while sat on my belly in front of the tv.

i am from crying at fireworks; the sound not the sight. running after butterfies in the backyard as the sun dips deeper in the suburban sky.

i am from the seemingly little things that some might consider childish. sure, they are, but these memories fill me with happiness.

dorothy was right. there is no place like home.