Truly blessed am I for so
Might people think of me and so
I am, walking April days on springsteps
With pockets of passion sewn about

What heather bears thine poppy seed
What bee might chance into your scent
Aligned with lights that beckon away
Swallowed poles of north or south

Tunnels gape and gnash stalactites
And eyes bear the brunt of the dark
But I feel not with sight, not where I reap real bounty
With twig and hair I feel my way

And paint what promise I need to survive

you said I'm complicated,
i say you're confusing,
you said you don't
know what I'm thinking,
i say you never want to
know what I'm thinking,
you said you rather be friends,
i say I want it to be more,
you said you wanted to talk,
i say I don't really feel like it,
you said you're not prepared
to love anyone,
I say you're just not prepared
to reject me properly.

what's the point
in this game of love,
if both of us can't agree
to the same **** thing.

People don’t realize
Everything I do
Has a purpose

Why do I have so many key chains on my bag?
So that when I walk it drowns out the sound of my thighs rubbing against each other

Why do I sit sideways on my chair?
So that you don’t see my thighs spilling over the edge on both sides

Why do I always wear jeans?
Because they hold in all my fat

Why do I always wear long sleeves?
So that I can hide the scars on my wrists

Why do I always wear hoodies and sweaters?
Because it hides my body fat

Why do I always straighten my hair?
So that it will frame my face and hide my double chin

Why do I wear four pounds of makeup?
So that I can hide my acne and disgusting face

Why do I play with the ring on my finger so often?
Because I do it whenever I'm anxious, which is often

Why am I always smiling?
Because on the inside I’m breaking but I don’t want you to see

You see
Everything I do
There’s a reason behind it

Why does time pass more slowly when we want it to go faster?
Dripping like molasses
Flowing like tar
Sinking
slower
s l o w e r
s   l   o   w   e   r
STOP
Time freezes
"No beat, no melody"
As they say in that famous play
Hamilton never stopped
Until that bullet made him
Sometimes I wish Aaron Burr would shoot me in the same way
Time is killing me
But not fast enough
It's the waiting that does it
But what am I waiting for?
A reason to be dead?
A reason to be alive?
A reason to have a reason?
A reason.
That's what we're waiting for.
I wonder what mine is.

It is a sad twist of faith
To be here in this place
Looking at pieces
That belonged to you

A weird feeling
as the moon is full
On the same day you had
made the walk down the road
                       ~Feeling the energy makes me want to cry~


As I think,

                            "What if I had been here on that day"

...Many weeks ago

Admiring the hard work
With what you had built with your time

I would of said

What my heart truly thinks

What an amazing job
You did


                                                           ­      Instead, letting time slip away
                                                                ­                             And I am here
                                                                ­       staring at the scatter pieces
                                                                ­                you had left to no one



Filling myself up with the mistakes
I should of changed
to had helped you

Tis the season to be dying
Not too jolly are the lines I'm writing
The hymns mimic my weeping soul
A tune strung with a broken bow

Frail lullabies drenched in sorrow
Wilting with the fading greens
We inhale clouds of dusty air
Cold and fragile as my spine

Tingling numbness in my heart
Like frost bites from within
The finale of an orchestra
An epilogue of sorts

Wintry hails in my disturbed mind
Raining like misfired bullets
From a shoddy gun
Burning letters into my hands

The poetry I craft not pretty
Lacking tales of sugarcoated reality
Mostly **** and somewhat edgy
Infused with truth and too much realitys

A person asked me, “What keeps you living?”
I stared through his eyes as I said, “Oxygen.”
I am that one out of a million sarcastic teen
But my answer nearly seems right, am I right?

He just looked into my hazel eyes, waiting
I can read it, he wants a philosophical answer
Yet I’m only a mere, neither Socrates or Plato
Then I started reading between those lines

I have lived because of the presence of air
Because of a girl fighting her breast cancer
Because of an orphan striving for success
A blind old woman who still find happiness

The mighty soldiers who fought in the battle
Unbreakable love of a long distance couple
If I tell you all my reason of me being alive
This piece might be the world’s longest prose

Chosen things from rows of things
Deciphering the prose of things
Weigh the highs and lows of things
Parse the why's and woes of things

The endgame shame of choosing things
You choose a thing you lose a thing
Just like you never knew the thing
And naturally you'll rue the thing

In time your mind may skew the thing
Season how you view the thing
The reasons why you choose a thing
Contrarily imbue the thing