I have no life
neither does bae
so I spend mine
with him day after day

I think poems
are a very lame way
to say something like this
but not for bae

I call him a loser
but he doesn't care
like how he doesn't
buy me stuffed bears

we're no white couple
not in any way
but I like him cuz he
doesn't think I'm lame

My thoughts are heavy and loud
they make my head pound and my neck sore
my body begins to shake
Quaking in my own significance
i dont want to exist anymore
Let me go

as always, i have been reading poems new to me,
by poets also new to me.
while my eyes caressed each word as if it were the last orb of breathe of the last flower to freeze in the winter,
the engines in my dingy brain halted, without warning.
without any obvious street sign or road block.
but then the pearl of a thought latched itself to me, became apart of me.
and for days now i have been molding this thought in my hands as a preschooler using a new tube a playdoh would.
my fingers manipulated the string of words,
maybe this will wor- no no maybe if i pinch this here it wi- no no no
no
    no
no
     NO
so, i decided to come flat out and bring to life the embryo of an idea of a thought that was swelling and letting water into my brain.

who is the "you"?
yes, i said it who the hell is the "you"?

i have seen it is the best and most famous poets' poems,
i have even seen it in my own.
the "you".

who is your "you"?
you know, example: when you write a poem and instead of saying "Sam" (your ex you haven't gotten over) you just put the word "you" instead?

look at these:

Sam kissed my eyelids,
but Sam only kissed them so i wouldn't see his lies.

and you turn it into:

You kissed my eyelids,
but you only kissed them so i wouldn't see your lies.

another example:

the "you" in this poem is, well, you.

confusion rots in my mind
as the questions i want to ask you leave through my ears
Knowing your response
before even asking i know i wont want to hear the answer
so i just smirk and nudge it off
but its always there
and here you are

I am the lonely chime at night
the one that gives you a fright
then you turn on a bright
light
and with all of your might you get out of bed
to check and see whats ahead
led down a dark and spooky hall way
the noise gets closer
and clearer
have you been looking for this or has it found you

I was in a very dark place,
I lived in a permanent sigh,
but I wanted to be in outer space.

I hated everyone of every race,
and I spent my days saying goodbye;
I was in a very dark place.

To my parents I was a disgrace,
they considered me much too wry,
but I wanted to be in outer space.

I was good at keeping a straight face.
My friends always wondered why.
I was in a very dark place.

Change came to help my case
in the summer, in mid-July,
but I wanted to be in outer space.

Nobody knew how to brace
themselves for my wanting to die.
I was in a very dark place,
but I wanted to be in outer space.