Now,
I'm not one to wallow in the depths of my own despair.
What a waste of time,
I'd rather be jumping for joy in the paradise they call life,
such a blessing to live, to be alive
or so they say.
So when you display emotions of comfort or love towards me,
am I wrong in thinking that you are growing fond of me?
That perhaps we could be compatible, jump through life together,
or at least for the foreseeable future?
Was I wrong for mistaking your soft, heart-warming-now-heart-wrenching, messages as a sign that possibly, you were mine?
Then how so, is it, that I turn my back for a second and you're gone?
'There's nothing wrong with you, it's just she is something else'
Oh well, forgive me whilst I weep, forgive me whilst I sleep
the pain away, forgive me, for apparently, I have sinned.
I'm still not one to wallow in the depths of my own despair,
what a waste of time, but time is no longer of the essence, so I shall do as I please, turns out I was wrong.
I always am though.

So you know that strange feeling you get, the one where it feels like you're different from them.
You're a green tulip in a field of yellows, but they all see in black and white.
You decide to go with it, because Different is bad. Same is good.
Same, they say, is what gets you somewhere.
Same, I think, isn't fun at all.
It's gray, dull, a ticking clock in an empty room. Time wastes away, and nothing is done.
Same stands over you with a bat, and 'plonk' when Different tries to talk to you. Same wears the same suit and tie every day, never changing.
Different likes colors and scarves and sandals and beanies and fur coats and tattoos.
Same likes to talk about the weather, while Different doesn't talk; she was interrupted too much.
Different likes to sit down and think, and think, and dream. She sits longing for more Different's, the ones with fur coats and tattoos. Same chases them down with his bat and 'plonk' they become like Same, with suits and bats.

We are

We want

We often need

We would rather be

We will always wish more

We are the same,

you and I,

though you are vastly different

with how you live inside the same world

I try to exist in with you by my side, or nearby,

or simply on my mind nowhere in sight.

I think its funny,

when I imagine

the person that you are,

standing next to me,

I often wonder,

if when you turn away,

your reaction might be the same for me,

if I were to turn away,

but I haven’t yet, well not really,

maybe in a physical way,

but the years have traveled quickly,

that being a memory,

today is wondrous

when earlier in our lives,

that same day might be

a regular day,

regular people,

in a way.

Under lock and key I carry value
My hinges are closed shut to shelter and comfort my innermost treasure
walls and doors claw my stainless steel exterior to peel away to my deepest core
but for years I have remained the same. But worn.
my screws are lose, I'm ripped from the bottom, and my clammy grip is no longer able to bear the weight.
Some day I may not have a handle, but I can still be carried through as a groom carries his wife to their honeymoon
Still I have remained the same. but change appearance.
I am a collage of tattoos that scar every place I've stayed, every floor I've touched.
often times I remain stationary tugged by a wagon  
rocks evoke earthquakes that make me stumble and gravity has a way of pushing and pulling me in all directions.
As years progress I look different than before, almost like a stranger
but under lock and key I carry value
I have remained the same.

Nothing’s wrong.
Please go away.
Same old song.

Their words prong.
Pain will stay.
Nothing’s wrong.

I don't belong.
Just a bad day.
Same old song.

I'll play along.
I'm fine okay?
Nothing’s wrong.

My pain's lifelong.
My mind won't obey.
Same old song.

Dark thoughts throng.
What should I say?
Nothing’s wrong.
Same old song.

Happy new year everyone
May I hear a response?
my skeleton of the new year
hangovers of last year
Debts carried forward
To begin from borrowing
Just to have a chapati
In last  year's clothes....
What will good be made of this year?
Just in ***** thoughts of last year
Just weak in spirit of motivation
Weak body
Weak joints
But strong desire to make good of today
Will I?
I just go near death
And
My poems ink are rotting over paper
Waiting to be published
Oh no no no no!
Like I call it my new year.

Andrew, Andrew
Stop letting me draw parallels between you two

Your name
Your parking spot
Your hair
Your glasses, sort of

Andrew, Andrew
Stop letting me draw parallels between you two

Staring at you in AP Chemistry (even though I'm still not in it)
Silly little cartoons on notes that make me smile
You stopping after Spanish 3
Your taste in anime and games

Andrew, Andrew
Stop letting me draw parallels between you two

Driving me home
Driving me insane with your poetry
Awake at all hours
Toying with my wants, desires

Andrew, Andrew
Stop letting me draw parallels between you two --
Be the one to follow through