I hate to insult my own mother
But I'm afraid this must be
Dealt with.
I feel angry at you most of the time now
But you said something yesterday
An offhand remark
"Thank God I'm not married."
Don't you dare.
Don't you dare make it sound like
God is on your side in not being married
Tearing our family apart
Breaking us all.
Do you know what dad said?
About you not going to counseling?
You don't think he's worth fighting for.
You don't think our happiness and peace are
Worth fighting for.
I promise you
God is not on your side in this.
He never could be.
Not my God.

I noticed a while ago.
I am subconsciously
Objectifying everyone.
And when I think about it
Objectified people
Are easier
To deal with.
I don't think this odd tendency of mine is
Natural.
In fact, I'm sure it isn't.
It's the result of a subdued conscience.
A conscience I always had.
I cared deeply for others.
I felt bad
Cried myself to sleep
For the smallest things.
An offhand insult I wasn't sure was even heard.
A chip taken from the lunch table.
An argument to be forgotten and ignored the next day.
I had a feeling in the pit of my stomach.
I cried
Hated myself
Continuously hit myself
Cried more
And had nightmares.
As I got older
These feelings faded
But still I get these pains in the pit of my stomach.
And I remember how I was
Before I was numbed by
Objectification.
I saw people as people.
I cried because
I don't want people to feel bad.
Not because of me!
I can't think of anything worse
Than being that picture on a dartboard
That gives the incentive to
Never.
Miss.
To be hated.
Even disliked.
Thought of as trash
As I often am
I suspect.
Looks of disgust I draw
From people I care for
Who I don't want to hurt
Who constantly hurt me.
It tears me apart
And as I write this I feel tears welling up
Which they haven't done for
Years.
I began this objectification.
"That's just a dumb person."
"He's an idiot."
"Just one of those mean kids."
And I stopped caring if I hurt them
Because caring hurts.
A lot.

Why is it
That I feel different around you
In school?
I suppose the distance we've gone
Struggles we've had
They weren't in school
They were separate
And now I feel odd
Not in a bad way
When I see you in school.

Why is it so much more difficult to write
When I'm told to?

I fall for you
Again and again
You're a blessed heart
And more than a friend
You help me up
When I'm fallen and *****
I thought you always seemed
Strong, oh and sturdy
But sturdy walls do not fall
They keep others out
I'm glad you let me in
And well you're all I think about.
My love has some passion
No rhythm, no rhyme
And I never shall fall for you
One last time.

I run and hide
As if a wall could somehow
Protect me
From the onslaught of things
Amazing things
Terrible things
It becomes too much for my young mind
To handle

The rain is here
You want to drown
But there is light
On the horizon

Sticky wet heat
Clothes are so gross
But there is cooling
On the horizon

Doubting my existence
And fathoming things bigger than us
But there is peace
On the horizon

Stress and tests
Useless work
But there is Summer
On the horizon

Nothing major hurts
Not right now
A couple scratches here and there
Bumps and bruises
Physical and mental
But overall
I'm okay.
And that's okay.
See, that's when I'm at my best.
I can relax
And let my soul pour out.
I feel at peace
So I can have new ideas.
Gain new confidence.
Love more freely.
Embrace more openly.
Stop and think before I move.
See, I will always have minor pains
Aches
Scars even.
But they aren't what is on
My mind.
So I can have free reign
Over my thoughts
Emotions
Body
Impulses.
I am in control.
I am at peace.

I fall for you constantly
Every day when you walk through that door
I look like I'm sitting
But I'm falling
More in love with you.
After all, a fall never hurt anyone.
Just please don't be a sudden
Stop
Because that would **** me.
I'm falling too fast to survive.

Oxymoron
Oxford *****
Oxford-y *****
Moronesque
Marked on *****
Boron *****
Down on the floor on
Do the dinosaur-on
*****
Water pour on
Out the door on
Oh baby
Give me more on
Adore on
Implore on
Slam a door on a
*****.

I passed a note
A past note
Passed to you
In the past
What does it say?
Here's a hint
This is the note now
And it says
I passed a note
A past note
Passed to you
In the past
What does it say?
Here's a hint
This is the note now
And it says
I love you.

Sometimes
When everything is wrong
And I should be angry
Fighting
Escaping
Rebelling
I am not
I am at peace
I know this peace is not mine
I know where it comes from
It relaxes me
Supports me
...
Wipes my tears

One of these days
I won't be able to contain my feelings.
And I'll finally tell you off.

People.
I love them all.
They scare me.
They are beautiful, amazing creatures.
They are capable of so much love.
Yet the same amount of hate.
That is free will.
We have the choice
But we often choose
To hurt others
And ourselves.
Killing unborn children
Instead of giving them
To parents who are
Unable to have their own
Or have enough love to go around.
Dropping bombs
Just to pummel someone else into
Surrender.
I surrender.
I will lay down my life
To give others theirs
Back.
Try it sometime.
It doesn't mean dying.
Death is easy.
The real challenge is not giving up
Your life, but giving it
To Others.
I want to help
Even if it is small.
Will you help?
Help around you.
I'll help around me.
If we have enough people helping
Around themselves
We can help everyone.
One is not a lot.
But if you add ones together
It can become two.
Or three.
Or four.
Anything can be done.
If we just try.

If you watch anime
You know what "Plot" is.
If you don't
Maybe you will figure it out after this.
There is some small plots.
Some huge plots.
Some unnecessary plots.
Some very necessary plots.
There's little baby plots
And old granny plots.
The old ones are less fun
And the baby ones need some time to develop.
Some plots make you awkward
And under no circumstance
Watch a show with lots of plot
Around family.
Or friends.
Or strangers.
Maybe alone,
But don't tell anyone.
Okay?
Have you figured it out yet?

Though I like stories
I never
Ever
Watch a show for the plot.

Am I a poet?
No.
I don't even like
Poetry.
It was never something I
Liked
Read
Enjoyed
Something changed
What was it?
Oh yes.
I read one
Of hers
And I felt pain
Agony
Excitement
Joy
Sorrow
Anger
Bitterness
I still
Hate
Poetry
And I refuse to write it
Or read it.
Cryptic words
With hidden meanings
Are too much work
To convey a feeling
These so called
Poets
Just seem...
I don't know.
Something.
I don't write
Poetry
I write
Feelings
Thoughts
Worries
Love
I am not a poet
I am a boy
A soul
A conscience
Yearning for a way
To express itself
In this vast
Unending
World
Of poets.

I'm bored
I want attention
...
I need you.

My **** today was
Huge
And meaningful.

Prejudice
Is the scourge
Of mankind.
We can
Hate
A person
Before we talk to them.
That is in no way
Right.
It is in every way
Wrong.
I want a different
Type
Of prejudice.
I want to pre-judge
Everyone
As beautiful
Lovely
Redeemed
Forgiven
And
I want to love them
Before I even speak to them
Or hear them speak.
Before I know their name.
Or who they are.
My very own
Prejudice.

Medication for
Heartache and indifference?
Seems odd to me
But whatever.

Early in our relationship
I made a drawing
Remove the mask
I felt no need to mention it.
But I think a mask really isn't a
Good thing.
Not only does it fool others
It suffocates you.
It also makes your face sweat.

Once upon a time, there was a princess.  Though she was always playing with the boys, she really wasn't boyish.  She was beautiful, the most beautiful in the land.  Everyone noticed, but nobody ever said anything.  None of the boys ever told her they loved her because she was just too good.  Sadly, she only thought they believed her to be ugly.  Nobody seemed to appreciate her, so she became more and more rough.  When her body was too different in places, she couldn't do that anymore.  Instead, she became a very bold person and tried to scare everyone.  She wanted to seem strong, even if she was weak.  One day, when she was an adult and had moved out, a wandering warrior happened upon her working in her herb garden.  He was so struck by her beauty that he could hardly stand, so he leaned against a rock, hoping to get his balance.  He never really caught it again, though, and she worked for several hours without seeing him leaning there.  When she got up, though, she noticed him.  She rushed over to help him an brought him inside, unaware that her sheer amazingness was what was weakening him.

Well, you see, throughout the princess's life, she was attacked by little goblins.  She could usually fight them off, but it took her days sometimes.  Well, when she took the warrior in, she went into the kitchen to try and find something that would help him.  Of course, the door was left open.  A huge goblin, one of the biggest ever, seemed to wander in.  She heard it and froze in place.  The stomps were getting closer.  By now, though, the warrior who couldn't see the goblin was regaining some balance.  He got up and swing his sword around a couple times.  After one swing, he had accidentally beheaded the beast.  There was blood all over his sword and he didn't know what happened.  The princess rushed in when the stomps stopped and saw the monster lying dead.  The warrior was inspecting it as it became visible, nobody could see the goblins before.  She ran and hugged him for his valiant act, but it was an accident.  He was just happy to have been in the right place at the right time.  As she hugged him, her weakness started to show through again.  She was so happy to be protected, she hadn't been before.  She didn't want him to keep wandering.

I should stop
Procrastinating
Cause it'll be a pain
Later.
But there's so many other things
That I'd rather do
Though I'm procrastinating on something that I
Enjoy.
Shoot.
I **** at this.

Yesterday
Something happened.
I don't think it was bad.
In fact,
I'm sure it wasn't.
After all
It improved your mood.
Made you happier.
Jovial.
I don't know what to think
But heck.
It's cool.

We all have a purpose
In life.
I do not believe
That this is predetermined.
We decide
Through what we enjoy.
When we find it
We thrive in it.
Not everyone finds this
Or do they?
I've found mine.
It's helping others
And loving unconditionally.
What is
Yours?

I am always
Reaching
Stretching
Yearning
To hold you.
To touch you.
To love you.
But I always feel
Like I can't quite get
To you.
But.
I will never
Ever
Stop trying
To get to you
To change your life
To enrich you
To be with you
Even if I never can
I will always try
Should the day come
When you reach back.

Real love is
Knowing the worst thing about someone
And being okay with it.
Does your
"Significant other"
Know yours?
Do you know theirs?
And is it okay?
That's how you know.

You're making me run
Out
Of things to write about.

It's not that I'm bored
Oh no
I love these feelings that I want to express

It's just that
I've expressed them.
I hope my writing isn't
Redundant.

Emotions
Why shouldn't they be kept bottled up?
I wonder.
I do it all the time.
If I feel bad
I have ways to relax.
Quite a few
In fact.
Does that count as a
Release?

I am relieved
No, I didn't
Relieve myself
(Meaning pooping, etc.)
I am relieved
Because something I worried was wrong
Somehow
Is actually embraced.
A weight has been lifted.

As I prepare to return
I feel a familiar sense of
Dread
But also
A familiar sense of
Familiarity.

Rotten
Is the flesh.
Breaking down
Is the mind
Shambling
Is the walk
Hunger
Is the cry
But it is not zombies.
It is us.

Almost everything I've ever tried
Has been easy.
This is why
I seem to enjoy things that I have more trouble
Mastering.

Challenge me by all means
And make it difficult
Because today my boredom grows
And my ambition wanes.

Running is always an answer.
Whether it be physical,
Or mental.
But sometimes
You need to stay.

The day gets worse
I am angry for some reasons
Guilty for others
And my optimism for later is gone
I hate this

I don't cry often, but
I feel too close

I don't often feel
Sad
And if I do
I can replace it
Quickly
With many things.
I have other
Feelings
That I prefer
And it isn't difficult
For me
To choose
Not
To be sad.
I do not
Cry
Partially because
I cannot
Easily.
Perhaps I am
Cried out?
I used to
Cry
But I don't
Now.
I have outlets
To release emotion
And a couple
People
To talk to.
I don't even have to tell people
About my problems
Because they are minor
And I feel
Odd
Awkward
Ashamed
To bring it up
Even if I am asked.
So even a friendly
Conversation
Helps
Even if the person is unaware
Of their impact
On my life.
I wonder
If these people know
How much I appreciate
Them
Love
Them
I want to help them.
With their worries
I want to improve their moods
But sometimes I need
Help
Myself.
Because no one
Is strong enough
Alone.

I won't get mad
The only thing I will
Become
Is sad.
I love you
Too much.
You say love makes pain
I agree.
So
I will be sad.
But this too shall pass.
I won't be sad long.
And I'll still love you.

Even after we part
Your scent lingers on me
And I love it.

It lulls me to sleep.

Poetic Writing
Is
Kind of
Odd
But it
Is **FUN

Why
Would they become separate?
Almost 17 years
Was supposedly enough
They persevered
And fought
For their love
And gave up
They say there is stuff I do not know
They must be right
Because I do not understand
And I am left here wondering.

The shadows move slowly
Sneakily
So you don't notice them.
The shadows move quietly
Leaking into your subconscious
And eating you from the inside.
They leak into your thoughts
Poisoning your mind with dreams of pain
Hate
They slowly move to cover your face
They slowly move to cover your mind
They silently strike
And poison your soul.
A shadow creeps into your mind even now
Seeding the painful thoughts and actions
Which will drive you to hurt yourself and others.
Ruining a day for no reason at all
Forcing a night into sleepless torment
Always next to you
Always surrounding you
Hiding from the light
Owning the night.
Fight these shadows
Drive them away with joy
Love
Light
Happiness
Compliments
Laughs
Lazy days in the sun
Kisses
Fight these shadows
And rid the world as best you can.

She
Is there
for me.

I
Hope
She will not leave.

I
Am there
For her.

I
Hope
She knows this.

I love how
After we hang out
Almost every time
My shirt smells like you.

I love it.

In cartoons
TV shows
When people have a decision
Between good and evil
They have a little angel
And a little devil
Appear on their shoulders.
When in fact
The little devil should be sitting right on their
**Crotch.

It really gives you an appreciation
For the things you hate to do
When you are unable to do them.
It gives you an appreciation
For what you don't notice
When it hurts to notice them.
I want what I cannot have
Yet I still dream of you
The most unreachable thing of all.
Hidden away in your tree
In your books of things that many
Don't care to learn
But perhaps ought to.
A smile that brightens my day
Show it to someone
Fight these people tearing you apart
Show them your happiness
That you've shown me.
Enchant them
Fill them with wonder
And awe at your sheer
You  - ness
Look at this amazing world we take for granted
I know not how you see it
Nobody knows that
So show them
Show them with your life
Breathe it
And continue to amaze us all.

I feel really ****** today
Headache and stomachache won't leave
So I think about you

I love deep talks
About science, philosophy
But the aftermath is bad
I feel small
Useless
But with my faith
I am also small
But I am part
Of something larger
Unfathomable
Unquestionable
And good.
I'm so confused
But it'll be okay
Because even if philosophy and science make me
Insignificant and subjective
My reality is defined by contentment
Service
And love

A lingering scent
Never permanent
Is meaningless.
A mere shadow of the memories
It may bring about
Burying your face into a scent
Gives no presence nor relief
Increases longing and nothing else
The smell of a love
The smell of a hate
It all fades
And it is nothing but a scent
Without mass
Without meaning.

Let's sing.
Now, let us sing.
For our happiness.
For our sorrow.
For our hidden feelings.

Let's sing.
Now, let us sing.
For our pain.
For our healing.
For our love.

Let's sing.
Now, let us sing.
For you.
For me.
For our amazing lives.

Even if you
Don't sing
Make a joyful noise.
Laugh.
Squeal.
Cry.

Because living
Is enough to be thankful for.
But all of us
Have so much more
Than living.
Even if we don't know it
Right now.

May our sight be unveiled.