My, how inexplicably beautiful you are, but I cannot tell you.
You are gone, and the lights are off,
And I am alone.

You round up because what difference is a quarter of a inch
Heels, depending on the size, will make you the average height
Leggings and sweats will bunch at your ankles
Shirts become dresses, but only for you
Dress hems hit the floor, but only for you
**** skirts become **** dresses
Having to hem every single pair of jeans
Sleeves. Sleeves are far too long
"Petite" clothing doesn't fit either
Step stools are your best friend
Jumping for something that's just out of reach works too
Constantly being mistaken for a 16 year old
(Even if you are turning 20 this year)
Being used as an armrest by someone who thinks they're funny
Stuck in the front for every group photo
There's that awkward height difference between you and everyone
Standing on tiptoes and having the guy lean down for a kiss
You hate sports that require tall people, like volleyball and basketball
And yet, you wouldn't change your height for the world

The globe on top of
the cabinet wants to fall
Has a world of woes

I refuse to let the party die
I never want the high to go away
The thrill of being able to say,
What you want to say

And in that moment
You figure out
That you're drunk,

Come, monday
You'll be in a single, twin bed
Waking up to a phone alarm
Wondering how you ended up here
Miles away from home

tic tac toe to me
isn’t what you think
in fact it really stinks

this is what you think:
that I’m not true
because I follow
the directions on my orange bottle

tic tac toe to me
is a lengthy process
I’ve been off of them;
I cared about myself way less

tic tac toe to you
just reminds you of me;
just like everything else.
reminds you of all my tells.

tic tac toe resolves our woes
they can go from head to toes
I’ll never fill a void…
you’ll only think I toyed

say say, "poems"

orbit around teenage angst or "melodrama"

and unrequited love or a "15 year old's infatuation"

with the relishes of teenage woes

alongside skanky ******

were reversed roles in a millennial

battle ; a literacy war



say say, "poets"

clad in magniloquent scrapes

of tight skin, "grandiose" leather

that screech tumblr or more commonly known "fashion"

were the luminescent windows

to that "boy's soul" or obnoxious ****



say say "teens"

as infertile as neglected garden soil

had fervent thoughts on "feminism"

or as the males see it as misandry

and whose words did not revolve

around themselves or "ignorance"

then maybe bloods wouldn't boil

past water's b.p.

and heads wouldn't load with loathe or "insecurities"

and hearts wouldn't heal with blood

or "suicide"

**| say say - m.m |

Troublesome love . . .

will not let you sleep . . .

Sort of like a basketball game . . .

Questions are bounced mad and furiously
against the hard wood floor with only
more questions bouncing back .

Meanwhile someone is trying to steal
your dreams causing you to twist and turn distorting your image .

And you fight your way down
the court of life and toss your hopes and
dreams into the air and pray to God . . .
go in.

Don't pity the poet lost in a battle for words,
Pity the child lost, wandering unthinkable plains,
Muddy sand Squelching through crumpled toes,
Hardened soles beaten over and over,
Arms hung loosely, the energy to march onwards, lost
in the foreboding rhythm of steps too many times taken,
Bleak are the darkened dreams, corrupted scenes invading the innocent,
Desperate lies concocted to pull a cover over the real, the danger, the hunger.