I said this year I'm done with boys
I'm done with all this emo noise
And let's just say it worked quite well
But now it won't, as I will tell

I gave up all my childish loves
I set them free like they were doves
They flew away and left me here
I was content in this past year

The ones I liked became estranged
But now it seems the times have changed
For even as I left them be
They now come running up to ME

They cower under my commands
Do all my freaking dumb demands
I hate the every part of it
And now I think I'm going to quit

Before I go I have to say
If you want boys near you to beg
Just give up all your previous loves-
They'll fly right back like stupid doves

I suppose you feel threatened
huh, Amerika?
It must hurt you,
pain you deeply,
I care not to live
by these
Idiotic
Heteronormative
Cis-normative
Sexist
Anti-feminist
Racis­t
(or should I say Rakkkist)
Xenophobic
Homophobic
Doesn’t want to to deal with AIDS crisis
Abilist
Capitalistic
Fascist
Doesn't give a **** about the poor or needy
Supports **** Culture
All Lives Matter except trans women, women, people of color AND Black  Lives,
Electing Donald Trump
society.
I hope your founding fathers
Choke themselves with the noose they made,
in their respective graves.

Right now I'm
outside looking
up at the sky
and I'm tired
of trying to
rhyme all
the time
everyone's
always
butting
into my life
it's as if they
want me to
be upset all the time?
one day I'm happy
the next day I'm not
but you know what
never changes?
Their screams that
spout from hatred.
Whatever happened
to telling me I could
accomplish greatness?
Because I'm tired of
waiting and chasing
while I'm complaining
as I'm suffocating beneath
your demands ****
I wish I'd just stand-
up to you.

I feel so confused and used up.
Emotionally, and physically.
Like a towel laying in front of a shower or tub.
It's obviously soaked from the wet feet stepping on it before;
But it still lays there-
As if it's doing any justice.
Just a token,
An ornament-
Decorating the mind to trick you into thinking it's doing it's purpose.

I feel as if I'm making myself believe that I'm doing something good for myself, when really I'm just lying in my own demise. The days do nothing but reiterate.. my body soaks up the same fragments of life.
Everything's like clockwork when all I want is to break that clock and regain my internal being.

Food for thought, or thought for food?
Either way I'm hungry, but I can't seem to eat.

                                        Alysia Marie 2015 ©