Rhythm is a song in itself
It's a word with music as you say it
Rhythm has the sound
And the tone
And the rhythm
Of music
In a word

The one who's Patient 139

A killjoy that's been to hell and back

Not afraid to keep on living

Not afraid walk this world alone

The one who's a drag king that slays

Who's the song I'm Not Okay (I Promise)

The one who considers singers, band members, and youtubers friends

That if I was on the show Escape The Night would be "The Poet"

Who to some degree understands Edgar Allan Poe's poems

And so that is who I am

I found them cause of music or YouTube

Some of them I knew who they were

But didn't care about them when I was younger

They're the ones who I say "Top Of The Morning To Ya Laddies" or "Where's The Black Smith" with

Or instead sing Oh Miss Believer or Thnks Fr Th Mmrs with

Most of them I consider my best friends

Some of them are Patrick, Pete, Joe, and Andy

Others are Jimmy, Chris, Chandler, and Karl

They're there for me when any actual people aren't

They're the ones who don't care about the fact that I'm LGBTQ+

They just see me as another human being that's a fan of their music or channel

I try to remind myself about the Fall Out Boy lyric "You Are What You Love Not Who Loves You"

And tell myself that I'll be like Frank Iero and JackSepticEye

Some of them are the reason why I'm going to be a youtuber

I ask myself all the time how in the world did they somehow wind up being someone I consider friends

What does it matter,
When I sit stiff in the dark
Music pricking through my eardrums;
Every single little strum
of guitar string
or a piano note;
Swimming along through the bass clef lines
The bassist, often undiscovered
No person hearing his low, warm notes.
His name is not on any
Cover
Not even in the 'artists' thoughts.
But his every strum gets through
Accompanied by a yelp
from my throat
The swirling snail in my ear
Curls up tighter as the waves near,
Fear. Paralyzed.
in fear.
The surge. Surge of thought
No time to breathe No time to stop
No time to think No time to drop
No single remaining train of thought
To listen to the bassists' notes.
Instead, it's the dreaded screech;
Singers voice racing through
my head is too loud
But my vocal cords never loud
enough to make a pleasing sound
A belching hound.

To feel yourself falling in love
With somebody over the course of months
Is to realise that you're more kind,
Happier, caring, gentle, and sweet-
A better person in general-
Keeping that person in mind.

No matter what you do,
Nobody else will understand
The way you feel every day,
The bubbliness of your actions,
The air of generosity and dreaminess
In every word you say.

To fall in love with someone
Is to notice you're not alone
And that you're loved and cared for.
It is to notice you matter as well
And to better yourself and others
Through kindness you pour.

To fall deeply in love with someone
Is to fall in love with yourself,
To fall in love with life as a whole,
To fall in love with everything.
Before you even know it,
Love has taken its grand toll.

I bang my elbow in the shower,
takes a second to realize why

not that I was careless
or enjoy pain, again

but the cascara
cowbell, saxophone,

hands around my shoulders
that are not my own

sunlight squeezing lemons,
flower dress upon the hill

potato enchilada
still
digesting
messing
with my footwork

    possibly

maybe

    I was careless.

Showers are not the place for salsa.

You are like a song
              forever
                        Stuck in my head

Dirt dried and cracked upon my weathered face
          The black hole in my soul
Covered only by the carefully stitched fabrics
          Of my two-day old clothes

          A man out of time
Handprint impressions
Depressed in my mind
          Sing to me darkness
Shed the weight from these eyes

Quiet is the lullaby
That cradles and rocks me to sleep
Somewhere down deep, I call out to you
In silence you speak
          Peace