Is this a question worthy of an answer?
I'm sure the sane answer is "no."

Is there poetry in farting into a milk crate?
Maybe not, but I'd very much like to think so.

I have lost the hold of me
Wanna shout so so so high...

It's been really long when I heard my voice
Now it feels so chocked...

Wanna cuddle coz I hate this feeling
Not able to make out or in...

Hope I get out of this mess quick
Cause it ****..

I bleed on people who didn’t cut me,

Cause my mind takes everything so personal

It is so immature,

I have to learn how to surrender

I am tired of trying to understand the unknown,

Someday I’ll find my heart

And peace will be my best friend!

We are done.

I will no longer sit idle.

I will not wait for my friends to get hurt.

It is long past due,

we will not tolerate it any longer.

Do not make up excuses,

listen to what your friends tell you,

do not give the benefit of the doubt;

they do not deserve it.

If they make you feel

unloved, belittled, ignored, hurt, unsafe,

come to me.

If they call you names

*****, *****, disposable, immature,  a child,

come to me.

Tell, if you wish, all of how they have done you wrong.

Tell me, and I will tell you.

Dump Them.

Gone is the time of "It's none of my business"

Gone is the time of "It's not your relationship"

Gone is the time of "No one asked for your opinion"

That is my friend,

and I will no longer sit and let my friends be hurt.

Children are...
rather innocent creatures
Or at least,
I,
in my protected, childhood of fairy tales
Princesses and superheroes and talking frogs
Was
My third grade diary when asked to name something precious
-Family
Unlike toys unbreaking
Keeps you happy and safe
Rather,
precocious I was at that
but still too much
-Naive

As I still am,
of course
See, the thing about adolescence
Is
Hormones raging, from crushes to bullying to acting out
The time when we
              Think
We're out of the                     Naive
                  Quite dangerous, really
Since, we're really Not

A whole butload of
                         "adult"
                               stuff I'll probably
Be subject to and
May have been earlier if not for
My reclusive tenancies
and lazy ways
and protected life


I say it,
In a careless manner
Trying to look cool, even in poetry
But, like, it's going to happen
I'm going to come face
to face
Have to make
a choice
And it's nothing to be intimidated about
I tell myself
Still,
Truly a question
to consider,

I'm assuming,
one day I'll mature
And when that day comes...

Will I still be the little girl
With the two bouncing pigtails
Scrunched up face
Pencil too tight grip
Recreating
Oval eyes, smiley lips, long hair
My nth drawing of a girl?

Mind uncluttered
with what could be
         what should be
         what would be
Only, what is
And what I want

Hmm...
But as the clock strikes twelve another day has gone by
and it's well past time for me to go to bed
Another year, past
More time gone by
More memories to reminisce about
But...
Also more to look forward to

i isolate myself in my room and keep the lights turned low
the love i create within myself dissipates every time i breathe
you are only a figment of my imagination
my mind is the only solace even though she screams at me
i fall in love in seconds but i don't know what love is
the little girl i am knows nothing of this world
i can't live on my own
independence has never been taught to me
the only way i can stabilize is if i drown myself in concrete
who i am is not known
and who i am not is alone