We are free souls.
We are free spirits, yet
we are waiting
for someone to show us the
way.

We are pure,
we are unique.

We are strong.

We are beautiful.

We are the ones that decide our destinies.

Nor illness, nor hurt, nor death can stop us.

We are light,
we are energy.

We are souls, inside bodies.

But we,
we are not trapped.

We are not prisoners.
We don't need help.

We are more than we think.
We are
free
souls.

I want to go everywhere
at the same time

In madness enthralled
deliberately unaware of the end

Awful and sweet
take me on a spree

Don’t ask if I’m tired
say how much more

I barely recognize myself anymore
When I was young I knew what I wanted when I grew up
Am I even growing anymore?
I feel stuck
I can't breathe here anymore
I've become too large for this small town
How will I get out without the brains or the talent to do it?
Am I here for a reason?
What is my life supposed to look like?
I feel like I've made a wrong turn in the universe
My heart is somewhere else and I can't find it
It left without saying goodbye
Where am I meant to end up?
How am I supposed to get there?
Why am I going through these things?
Do I even matter anymore?
Have I done all I can for this world and now am I just waiting for death?

do you ever think about
how funny we finally got used to it?
you with her,
me with myself​,
and us,
with a high thick wall between us.

—f.r

no, i will not take your compliment,
because i am undeserving of the words.
no, i will not take your compliment,
because when you say those things, it hurts.
it hurts that you waste your words on something,
that wasn't worth your time.
no, i will not take your compliment,
because you will not take mine.

How do you know me just from the color of my skin
Not accepting that which is deep within

How do you know me from looking into my eyes
My heart could be filled with deception and lies

How do you know me from the way I look
My intelligence will often be mistook

How do you know me from the way I talk
An accent or a twang or lisp why mock

How do you know me from the way I walk
A strut, sashay, limp taken ad hoc

How do you know me from what people say
Maybe they’re just have a bad day

How do you know me from the way I dress
Can’t I express my depress

How do you know me from what you hear
Maybe I’m not really queer

How do you know me from what you read
Words can often mislead

How do you know me if you don’t ask
Leaving it to your imagination is not its task

How do you know me or my dreams
You already have an opinion it seems

How do you know I won’t make the world glow
Given the chance to put on a show

Andreas Simic©

The way everything else does.
Everything has a foundation,
A solid block to stand on.

Songs need a perfect string of syllables,
And a cool, catchy tune.
A book needs character arcs
And a story that can make one swoon.

But a poem chooses what it does,
What it says and how it says it,

w e c a n s p a c e o u t t h e l e t t e r s
OR TYPE IN ALL CAPS.

i                            to                                          of
  am       limited          the                     lines         the
      not                                  implied                                page

and i dont rlly have to use proper grammer, nessisarily,

Because as long as a poem gets across its message,
The "why" of it all,
Well, that's a good poem in MY book,
My book of feelings nailed in the wall.

I want to turn down our opacity
occupy the same physical space.
line up our hearts to beat together.