There is this girl
The girl who is genius as hell
The girl who is humble
The girl who thinks low about herself
The girl who forgets how it feels to fall
There is this boy
The boy who is way too genius
The boy who is humble
The boy who thinks low about himself in front of her
The boy who forbids himself from falling
There are this two persons
Two persons who hide behind their bricked walls
Two persons who put their ego up as defense,
Defense from falling
Falling deeper, deeper, and deeper
Into each other.
"What are you afraid of?" I ask,
Is the thought of me and you tangled together
Limb by limb, so repulsive to you
That you'd rather be sitting
Out in the cold, snow covered streets
Haunted by the thought,
"What could have been"
"We're wasting time," I breathe
Into your collarbone that is usually heaving with a sigh.
You shake your head and respond,
Is it me that you are afraid of?
Does my intensity for love and even for you, keep you awake?
Tell me, my darling, is it me?
I know I burn houses with these hands
And break windows with my screams.
I am intense, and passionate, and fucking crazy.
But I am not scared.
I am not scared to grip your cheeks
And plunge myself into your lips, into your body.
I am not afraid of the moment before we fuck
That your body convulses with passion and your extremities stretch toward my very being.
You are a wildfire I never want to be put out.
You burn me, time and time again
But I am the oxygen that keeps your flames thriving
And you are the fire that keeps my heart warm.
"What are you afraid of?" I ask,
He looks at me with the stars in his eyes and looks down,
His body creases with pain
And in that moment I know,
I know that even though we are the fire,
Maybe, just maybe, I am engulfing him in my flames.
There is this boy
The boy whom you're always telling your stories to
The boy who listens to you always
The boy whom you don't actually know
There is this boy
The boy who is my best friend's older brother
The boy who keeps telling her sister about what his best friend said
The boy who is actually the same person that you know
But you don't know that fact
Because you're too blinded
To see that boy running in circles
Just to make sure that you and him are okay
I watched this man in an assembly a few days ago
I pity this man because he's from this group called Teen Truth
But it's Teen Lies because they've got the reason kids say their goodbyes all wrong
The man said that statistics were inaccurate: 99% of kids have been bullied or are bullies
So you think he'd understand most of those kids have adapted to this society
I wish this guy could see he's wrong and he's spreading lies like a Teen Idle
Because everyone knows the song goes "feeling super super super suicidal"
And for most of us, it ain't severe so it's crystal clear it's because of the men who make assumptions about us muffins tryna turn us soft, softer than we already are, so they leave us in the oven for 7 minutes instead of 9
The truth is it isn't because of our iPhones
We're not wanting to die just because it's cool
But really I'll tell you a secret:
My friend shouldn't have to ask if it was on purpose or on accident when I said I cut myself
I shouldn't have to clarify or reassure him it was because of my clumsiness and not my courage
But here we are, your invincible teenagers, falling falling falling down until we're going going going gone
It is because we know that the economy is screwed and we'll never be able to do what we want to do
It's because when I got bullied, I sure as hell was not going to kill myself because of it
I was going to kill myself because I had dreams where I retaliated
I was going to kill myself because I was taking down those people, those people I'd be allied with and probably forget about years later
I was going to kill myself because everyone else was, for the reasons they were
And even for petty reasons like, "If I die today, I never have to feel sick ever again."
And because I felt like shit when I couldn't get out of bed
And maybe because there's people out there like my dad who probably want to but would never tell me
And because my mom threatened to sell me when I was younger
And now I'm done with her because I only have to live for another five years before I find myself on the streets
Covered in cuts I did not make on purpose
Maybe I'd be yelling poetry on the street corner or maybe I'll have that apartment in New York
Maybe I'll be in love with someone
Maybe I never will be and maybe someday, I will see everything the pizza delivery man sees, like I do every single day with every single person, and I will tell him "Thinking about her will only make it worse."
And then I will give him a tip, take the pizza, and be on my way never to think of him again
And maybe he'll never know when he'll forget me because I'm the reason it got better
Because that pizza man was my age I remembered how it felt to not get out of bed and us kids, we have to stick together
That's all we're ever going to be, yeah, sickly kids remembering math tests and other countries threatening to destroy our own
A man in charge with orange skin, bad hair, a temper and a refusal to learn the word consent in front of women
So if I live that long I sure as hell hope a pizza man is waiting because I'm gonna tell him that if it's what he needs to hear
I guess I'll always be here, in a room without much light, and god I gotta tell you I'll keep writing poetry, unfortunately
Because you don't want to read it but you have to
I know I'm different but in the ways we feel I am exactly the same
And because of this half-hearted explanation, I assure you
I didn't cut myself on purpose
Not quite yet
I've done it again.
I lost track of time and put myself before everyone.
I forced myself to look away because I knew it was true
I quickly became ashamed of what I'd become
I so easily turned into what I hated most
Someone who values her own opinion so much
That she is unafraid of hurting everyone
Someone who "loves" herself so much
That she tears people down
Someone that is too smart
Too intelligent, to discuss just exactly what the hell is her problem
Someone who is so broken
That she allows herself to shatter others
Someone that put up the famous walls
But couldn't break the 4th one.
Someone that lost touch with reality.
Someone that refused to admit it.
it all hurts
when we're teens
back in 94
and now we see
our time has come back some more
and now we're young
Walking to class
after leaving with a hall pass
hand in hand
oh bring me back
back to 95
when we were dead but we felt alive
oh bring me back
to being young again.
When you're lost in the valley of emotional torment,
Every day becomes a search for an air vent.
Sucking down every last bit of hope that escapes,
And running across other people that can relate,
It becomes exhausting, and people become famished.
I've known many people that go ghost mode and vanish.
Poof from existence, but time after time,
Whenever I write, they're on my mind.
The fallen soldiers in this war against misery,
The whispers in the wind all throughout history,
The shadows of good men, kids and teens we all know,
The ones who's teardrops have become the snow.
There's people who gain and lose hope on a daily basis,
The ones who wear shoes, but aren't allowed laces.
The ones that scream into their pillows at night,
And punch anything not moving as if it was a fight,
Or the ones who see things in the dark that cause fright,
And grow tired because they can't sleep in the light.
I understand, oh yes dear, I know.
I've been there myself and had no room to grow,
Stuffed under an oppressive giants foot,
But I felt the soft ground and began to take root.
I didn't grow up, in fact I grew down,
Dug myself the tunnel, and went completely around.
Touched the sunlight,
Heard the voice in the tunnel and made 3 rights.
I stole a piece of the sun's golden rays,
To bring it to my strugglers, and show them all the way.
But this ones for the kids with their doors on lock,
Hoping to sleep until their bodies start to rot,
And the teens gazing out the car window at traffic,
Wondering if there's any hope or if its like magic.
And don't let anyone tell you any fucking different.
I knew it was an error,
Because we did not click.
Even if we are only searching for a signal.
There is a boundary that will brick.
In the eyes of the sky, we crave for falling stars,
Clouding our minds with comforting lies behind bars.
Mustard themes, they say, "Save the bees",
Each demon crept through the willow trees.
Undescribable feelings and censored words,
None of our vocabularies soar to be absurd.
Our sunset travels weaken thy footsteps,
We are just hopeless youngsters, reaching out for help.
The arriving moonlight, there a universe awaits.
Treacherous promises left in different places.
We are the written sentences lost in hoary library shelves,
Forever damaged, oh, what have we done to ourselves?
Male and female body parts blended like jigsaw puzzle pieces.
They want the beast with wallop lips and flat kisses.
Most of us touched the pixelated features,
We are the broken frames in the tortured pictures.
Those smiles and giggles are all gone and crashed.
We are the wounded teens, tossed like standard trash.
A game with many levels but without the signs of "Game Overs",
Once again, we are the lurking kids with a bunch of errors.