If you have a coin
Call me by your name
I’ll steal it from you

How's the weather?
Sweaty eyes and humid nose
How's the weather?
In situations you didn't chose
How's the weather?

Locked eyes and lifted lips
To sour goodbyes and tightened grips
Every page is filled with ink
That's made to vanish once you blink

Place a bucket, catch the tears
While holes are still fresh, wetting sheers
Get a shovel and dig your eyes
Got blinded by love to see his lies?

You are foolish while still sober
Tell me then, how's the weather?
Step on the clock and keep climbing
'til you reach the epoch where it's not raining

If it’s only a joke why does it sting?

If it’s only a joke why do you make it personal?

A joke shouldn’t be something used as a hateful thing.

Jokes are supposed to be something we can look back on and laugh at;

Not be ashamed because we were made insecure by a few words.

Make it make sense

Jokes are supposed to be lighthearted and something for a laugh.

Not to make people feel ashamed.

“Oh! Remember when you started-“
It’s not a joke.

We’re not laughing.

But you are.

It’s not a joke so stop saying it after an insult because it’s not a joke.

How to gain the confidence to complete a simple task?

I love my parents, but they’re out of it.
For high school graduation, they gave me a gift.
A genie, three wishes, you get the gist.
A big responsibility for an eighteen-year-old kid.
What should I wish for? Well, I don’t know!
Beginning of summer, maybe I’ll wish for snow?
First semester of college, but I don’t wanna go.
Maybe I’ll wish to already know.
Know English, Spanish, math, science, and more,
But I’d rather know what’s on the ocean floor.
Why not cure cancer? Because it seems like a chore.
No, what I really want is the one I adore!
Genie, I wish for my perfect girl.
The most beautiful one in the whole world.
Give me a stunner, one that I can twirl.
Genie said wait, don’t give that a whirl.
I am all powerful, all knowing too.
So I know a secret, one about you.
Now don’t deny it, for you know it’s true.
You don’t like girls, or “doing the do”.
You, kid, are gay. Trust me, I’m the genie.
So don’t ask for a taco when you really want ******.

It started with one. A small hole from a nail.
The first on the surface, paint color “Light Hail.”
The next was an accident. A **** with no stop.
They patched it well and carefully covered it up.
Over the years, nails, screws, and anchors,
With shelves, paintings and furniture.
One time, their son poked through with a pencil,
But it did little compared to his teenage knuckles.

How many poets
Does it take to change a light bulb?

Two.
One to hold the ladder.
And one to tearfully consider the transitive nature of existence compounded by the tragedy of the assumption of replacement without true celebration of the individuality found at the heart of the mass produced and the beauty that can be found in a frail light fighting against the darkness inherent in an unfair world.