At 10 years old, I argued for my time back. I don't to play piano anymore, I want my 10 000 hours back.

This is the brokenness I am

At 13 I had a double, nothing in common but the title of their being. And yet that is all it took to become nothing.

This is the brokenness I am

At 14 I spent time with a locker, the only friend I had in the jail of a building.  A homeless student living amongst the rich.

This is the brokenness I am

At 15 I was trying to put life together, but it didn't work. Making myself angry about it. Maybe you don't have to accept that life doesn't like you, that people don't like you. That you don't like you.

*This is the brokenness I am

Me

From where we are
Or where we're going
We could be anything
Anything at all

Her*

Not shaking*

It's just my brilliance
Trying to get out

Give me a mansion, fill it up with stuff
Give me the money, cash, and all the gold
Until my bank account looks like Mount Saint Helens about to erupt
Still sleeping on a bed with no other pulse
Stuck on society's twist of no monogamy
Cheating life plans, slicing souls like Light Yagami
You have to admit, that's a sick "American dream"
I'll just be here filling your bottles until you don't know where you've been
All these demons on a death note written, barely lived to be slain
If I wanted to live in your shoes I'd have wrote my own name

I fight real mental battles if I'm being honest
Too relatable of a relationship  to "Her Diamonds" by Rob Thomas
But you built me up to the man I am and I plan to stay that shining knight
Until the lights go off and we both take flight
All my energy, all my might, I burn creative bridges in a dark night
Until I write up a cure for the pain you, everyday, fight

I started chasing success to be best me I could be
they created a world where security is not free
Chain you to a machine, a desk, a job
Then take away your thoughts, see you've been robbed
I'm not anarchist, I just know the insecurity they feed
I'm standing up, saying what you already knew, you can be anything
If the you, staring at you, through a glass pane is not the same as you perceive
Crack the glass and give your all to that dream and believe

You said if I ever write a poem about you, that I should read it to you. Well here you go:

You should know I’m never the best at making first impressions. And although this isn’t the first time we’ve met, I still think I have something to prove. We never have as much time as we thought we did, and maybe that’s because we only have so much time to begin with.

Because you’re a story of sorts. And I’m not much of a reader anymore, but I can’t seem to get enough of how you view the world. Let me assure you, I’m listening.

I don’t really know how to say that I sometimes seem to want to know somebody even though we’ve never met. I remember handing you math notes, only to find that you’d disappear from math class like math notes disappear in school binders. How strange is it that you’d reappear from math notes to music notes?

A scripture of musical notation written on your skin and suddenly I needed to know who you were. But here I am asking about your tattoos thinking, “We’ve never met”. Only to be reminded of math notes I didn’t remember for tests I didn’t study for. So my first impression happened twice it seems.

And you seem so nice, offering your writing for mine. Offering up stories like it was over a nice dinner… or some type of wine was it? Offering up my listening ears only to find out how different we truly are. And how odd is it that we’ve met before?

Now that I’ve met you, I can’t imagine chalkboard hearts without wondering for whom the heart beats. Scrawling signatures like the chalk was meant to be permanent. I’m not much of a cursive writer, just a songwriter of sorts.

Like I said, we don’t have much time. You’ll leave soon, and I’ll wait another year to wonder if somebody else will offer up their hands as a gesture of kindness. And they will, but they won’t be your hands.

Forgive me if I ever forget your name, or the reason why I wrote this. But if we meet again and I ask about your tattoos, you can tell me all about them all over again. And between music notes and math notes, I’ll look at you and ask with the smallest bit of doubt, “Have we met?”.

And this time, I’ll let you make the first impression.

I have stories in my head.
I have feelings in my heart.
I have songs in my mouth.
But the words don't flow.

I want to write of adventure.
I want to sing of good times.
I want to express how much I love you.
But my mind forms these thoughts too slow.

I want to tell the stories of heroes I've dreamed up.
I want to compose ballads that stick in people's heads.
I want to write of love and life as I've experienced them.
But as I grasp for the words, from my hand they go.

I want to write. I should start today.
But here, in this moment, I don't know what to say.

By Arcassin Burnham

Your love for me,
Is not right for me,
I could see our dreams,
floating into little pieces,
You need to be,
Away from me,
I don't want to
The epitome,
of your love that is not right for me,
I don't want you to fight for me,
You're just a memory,
Get off of me,
Your the past to me,
Please understand my plea,

/

No future is upon us nor has God even spoken,
About the ones who made it,
Only a few have been chosen,
I'm talking about the rapture honey,
I'm not a scientist,
If you pay me enough I'll be your personal
Psychiatrist,

are you listening
is there something in your mind
the skies are clearly brightening
love we're running out of time.

you cracked me open
and let the light in
you made yourself a warm, cozy home in my cold, tired soul
a soul that was ripped to pieces and clouded in darkness
a soul that i lost sight of
a soul i never thought i would get back

there is now a sun in my sky that blazes bright
a sun that is melting the ice and warming the earth
a sun that is telling the flowers to come out from their hiding places
a sun that is letting the leaves turn green
a sun that is telling beauty that it's okay to bloom.

my world is full of color and new life
and life is beautiful

all those happy songs finally fill me with joy
instead of sadness and longing

each day the sun seems brighter
and the air seems fresher,
breathing gets easier with each passing day
colors are vivid
not dull and muted

i feel like i could fly

i feel like i can take on the whole world
and i would be okay with whatever happened
as long as i have you by my side

Toluene*

He is a truly sublime being,
his "I love you's" like
sticky notes, stickers,
every embrace leaves
an imprint on my arms,
every kiss clings to my tongue
until I taste him again,
His love, an adhesive,
a sudden wallop of rapture
flowing through each
cremation chamber,
making my heart hum hum hum
a little faster faster faster
love knows no punctuation

- Crimsyy