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everyday i wake up and i’m reminded -
people will never be there like they said they would,
you can’t make someone understand;
you can’t make anyone care.

it doesn’t matter what you’re facing,
it doesn’t matter how many times you warn people.
as soon as you need more than you can give,
everyone’s opinions change.
if it’s not about them -
no one's listening.

it doesn’t matter -
if you paint your fears on the walls.
it doesn't matter -
if you claw for support on chalkboards.

you could say you had a plan,
unleash all the demons.
you could try to beg,
you could try to plead,
doesn't matter.

it'll never matter.
you'll never matter.

you can’t make someone understand;
you can’t make anyone care.

Because “yes”
Means yes
And “no”
Means no,
Especially when I’m being
Ever so
Serious with the things
I’m seeing
From you; Messaging
But never speaking.
Stop asking questions when
I say so (then
Maybe I’d try to
Be nicer to
You).
There are reasons as to why
I don’t really cry
In front of those I can’t rely
On. Stop bugging me
And then we’ll see.

Anxiety wraps
itself around me,

like a coat that
doesn’t fit me

like a lover that
doesn’t love me

like a fire that
doesn’t warm me

Live life to the fullest
After a brother was executed
It was like living for two
After a liver transplant
You learn to live for you
Stay loyal and true to yourself

You grab my hands in yours

Reminding me I'm special

You slip bracelets on my wrists

Reminding me you're here

You paint my nails black

Reminding me that you care

You spray me with your cologne

A good luck charm for my test

I pass with flying colors

And love you more than the rest

My friend, you are so special

I want to keep you close

If I lost you as well

It would hurt more than most

Please stay my friend forever

From my window I see
branches dripping
gray fog.
I face a long day
heaving heavy boards,
testing
my brittle back,
glasses wet
with sweat,
porcupine fingers
bristling splinters,
shaping lumber
with a clear heart.

Carpenter, carpenter, what do you say?
Cut wood all day,
bring home the pay:
a pocketful of sawdust.

With strange joy
I can't wait
to begin.

When I was younger, I used to think I was going to be a Star.
Under a spotlight where everyone knew my name...
I was five.

Now, I want shadows and to be as far away as possible.
Hidden and far from consequence,
And even further from myself.
Where my name is not a name,
But just another word without any true meaning.

When I was younger, I used to think I was going to be a Star.
Now, I want to disappear.

I should have jumped overboard when I had the chance.