You are there,
Never here,
Never near.

I am here,
Never there,
Never aware.

The both of us,
We're moving dots;
Always crossing paths,
But never actually meeting in the middle.

Men I don’t love
Send me emails telling me that they care about people like me.
They say,
I am committed to helping people achieve their dreams by providing the right support. I want to thank you for your interest in utilizing this opportunity.

The boy I know
Sends me a message saying he saw potential in us.
He writes,
I wanted to help you become better. And when you spoke to me that first day, I thought that maybe we could become something greater than we are now. Together.

Men that know me
Send me emails saying that they liked learning what’s in my head.  
They say,
I recognize the time and effort you put into this and truly appreciate that you shared your thoughts and ideas with me.

The boy that doesn’t love me
Sends me a message saying he knows what he meant to me.
He writes,
I know how hard you tried to make this work. I think you’re amazing, how you always give your all into everything. How you gave your all to me.

Men I don’t know
Send me copy-paste emails that I have memorized.
They say,
There was an outstanding selection of applicants this year and the competition was intense. I regret to inform you that you were not selected to receive an award.

The boy I love
Sends me a message saying what Men I Don’t Know couldn’t.
He writes,
*It’s just that this isn’t what I’m looking for.
You’re not who I am looking for.

The bitter pill of rejection,
The deep cut from within,
The onset of self loathing
The scathing attack of the mind.
A ******* to kindness, all the good retreating to hide.

Memories aren't made to be broken,
Yet lie in shards, each piece
Refracting unframed pictures.

Promises aren't made to be broken,
But words are malleable.

Hearts are too often broken, quartered
And flung to the elements.

Spirit cannot be broken
Under any crushing worry.

And love,
Away or dwelling,
Encompassing love;
Battered, betrayed,
Exalted, praised;
Spent like money,
Treasured, yet free as air.
Most invulnerable,
Most vulnerable;
Frail and omnipotent.
Unbreakable.

I ****
I'm not bad enough
I'm not nice enough
I'm not cute enough
I'm not rugged enough
I'm not smart enough
I'm not average enough
I'm not talkative enough
I'm not quiet enough
I'm just a soul in a vessel
I'll never find my mate
I ****

door open
suddenly shut close
bolts ******* outside my mind
from the constant banging

I tried so hard
duct taping it into place
permanently
to let the breeze flow in

sadly the monster
keeps creeping in
closing the door behind him
over and over again

There's always this poisonous barb in the back of my head luring me in and telling me that maybe I'm just dead. But not really dead, its not a dumb, parasitic barb. Just dead in my head and clearly exaggerating the good that lies in my stead. After all, what true good is someone who's not all right in the head?

It goes away and I wane, and I start to feel strong and sane. I feel maybe the things swirling around in my brain are not just caged beasts but like songs with refrains, like cells with membranes. Whole, complete, useful.

Yet as I get confident it yells at me to be confident I'm not confident. I confidently yell at it to shut the hell up and stride forward, but then the traits I'm confident in are told to be less confident, and others tell that its not good enough to be confident, and then I'm less confident. But I'd only be good if I was more confident, you see, there we go, the dilemma in the madness, the plum in my proverbial pudding. I think I'm too good yet not good enough all at once.

What the **** am I?

I'm my own strongest motivation yet my own personal hell. All the things I say sound brilliant yet ridiculous all at once and its just stuck swirling inside my head and its beautiful and disgusting. I'm a genius yet an idiot. Gifted yet totally talentless. I can't catch which way sometimes what it is. Am I too ******* myself or am I just fooling myself into thinking I'm something I'm not and no one has the heart to tell the fool she's not special?

Why would anyone ever make humans like this?

I do know one thing I was a fool about, though. The one thing that I like to forget that's in my head.

That when it comes to the disorder that plagues my synapses, I'm not that special. It has its good times and its bad. But I had been so good lately I...

I was confident that I would just stay better.

That's the one thing I'm confident I was wrong about, because today I did something that normally would make me weep for joy and I felt nothing. Feeling nothing about something I love so much hurts more than I can bear.

What the **** am I?

I was so confident a few months ago. And parts of my head are still confident now. But I don't know who to trust anymore when all I've heard is nothing and no. It makes me feel adrift in an open sea, and the worst part is I thought I knew the waters below me, but now I can't tell where I am at all.

I'm confident that right now that I'm lost.

thoughts of you won't quiet down
and its left me to expose my frown.
lonely nights seem to be getting longer
but they say, "time will make you stronger."

now i lay here alone,
shutting down my entire phone,
for my suffering became real
when you told me how you really feel.

I sent in a poem to the Poetry Foundation
And they rejected it
Calling it vague
But little do they know
That I am the Poetry Foundation!