I'm such a sucker for
over explanatory wordy titles
there's no fall out.

I say hello poetry
The titles you bear are crucial
As I scroll I look out for you

Yes you title!
How you're framed to lure me
How those words make me pause and click

Your parents, the poets
Are inherently cunning
Luring by just expressing themselves

So I say hello poetry
The titles you bear are crucial
As I scroll I'll look out for you

So everyone has heard the term EMO and honestly it makes me sick
That people just throw the term around as if it was a meaningless stick!

EMO isn't just for cutting, and depression, because if that was the actual meaning, everyone be that way at somepoint.

EMO means EMOTIONAL.

EMO isn't just for cutters, or people with really dark personalities.
I'm a Dark person, and I've yet to cut over the last year and couple months.

So the next time you go to throw the "Title"/"Label" EMO at someone, really think about what your saying.

And if someone wants to throw that at you just look and Laugh because  it's obvious they don't have a clue what they are saying.

I feel like the only person alive during winter at 7 am
- Everything is a little more beautiful at night
- Oak cologne
- Skin is the sexiest part of the human body
- The moment his pheromones began to make me ill
- I'm floating too close to the sun
- Heels: A transformation
- A list of people I couldn't say no to
- We should've waited longer
- Modern romance and the death of sincerity

Untitled, unsettled,
Unstable-
So many orphan children,
Written in little rows.
Still I-
Would rather lack a name
Than miscall one.

I keep thinking of excellent titles
for stories I haven't written yet.
Does that still give them life?
Damnable muse!
rushing in unprepared.
you leave a graveyard of thoughts
for lack of pen and paper.
abrupt endings scattered about
in the back of old notebooks.
an endless stream of stutter steps,
of scratched out
phrases.
don't you know
the name should come last?
we've given existence to written down regret,
reason to rue my very first love.
what a Jealous thing you are.
to clip the wings of baby birds.
they were ours.