My hips got a little wider
And my chest grew a size or two
“Pay attention to your surroundings”
And
“Keep your head down to not cause unwanted attention”
Was all I heard
I had a hard time paying attention when all I saw was the ground

Bite your tongue
Your words are not worth saying
Bite your tongue
You'll be judged
Bite your tongue
You'll regret your words
Bite your tongue

your views are all i care about.
look at me please.
acknowledge my words.
remember my words and dont let them slip your mind

How can you hate
Something you made?
How can you hate
Something you raised?
Why do you hate me so much?
I just want your love
No, not even
I just want you to see me
Acknowledge me
Please

How much do you think time would cost?
Would someone buy 5 more minutes during their final breath
Or 2 more years to your partner's lifespan
Others selling their hours in hopes of being rich
A birthday girl being gifted 2 more hours
A single father selling his minutes for some dollars
Being robbed of the minutes you just bought
Saving up your silver coins to buy your mother an hour
Priceless moments will outweigh all the Earth
In the end, will we realize time's real worth?

The river flowed slowly
For it carried precious cargo
An infant in a basket

The river knew what to do
And saved the infant from its demise
Bringing it to the Pharoh's wife

The river flowed gently
All you could hear were the infant's cries

I embellish my mind with music
The expressive silence and the blend of rich voices
Rhythmic expressions and artistic use of words
                                                           ­          My mind is adorned with emotions
                     The tides of emotions crash over me and the whispers of intuition
                                                     Screams of fear and varying colors of mood
I decorate my mind with thoughts
The stream of ideas and whispers of consciousness
Small streams of reflection and flashes of insight
                                                         ­         My mind is furnished with memories
                                             The fragments of memories and echoes of the past
                  Brushstrokes of details in each memory and the maze of perception
I decorate my mind with poems
The quilt block of words and dance of language
Mosaic of themes and rhymic heartbeats

I am an Artist
I am a Poet
Without a Muse
My work lacks its purpose

I need a Muse
A purpose to keep create
A reason to keep making

The words I turn into sentences
Are dull and bare

I think I'm an Artist
I think I'm a Poet
But without a Muse
I work without purpose

It took me a while to get used
To the numbers on the scale
To only go up

you stand in front of your class
the words at your throat freeze
you're a deer in headlights, frozen
pairs of eyes staring
all eyes are on you
you feel the imaginary spotlight shining in your eyes
you're a painting in an art gallery
they arent talking to other people
they arent doing their homework
they're looking at you and only you
so don't **** up

your compliments are overwhelming
never have I felt so much love, so validated
it feels like a ticking time bomb, too good to be true
I'm not used to this feeling, and I don't know if i'll ever be
strangers across the screen who may be miles away
nicer and kinder than the people I call family and friends
why do you take the time out of your day to compliment my words and sentences?
why do you say such nice words although you don't know me?
Lumim, CJ Sutherland, Liana, Sora, friends and supporters I've made here
And so many more
Thank you

Do I consider myself a poet?
(No, you're horrible, a wannabe, and an imposter)
Do my words captivate those around me?
(No, they leave people indifferent)
Do my eyes capture things others can't?
(No, you see the world like everyone else)
Do I play with my words and sentences?
(No, they're dull and bland like vanilla)
Do my words convey emotions and experiences?
(No they convey the boringness of a white wall)
Do my words piece together like a puzzle?
(No they're water and oil)

Insomnia is a thief that steals my sleep
The hours and minutes tick by, an agonizing reminder that sleep won't come
Like the ouroboros, my quest for sleep consumes me
Insomnia traps my mind in a restless cage
The moon never sets in my mind, an eternal sunny day mocking me
Like the ouroboros, my struggle for sleep loops back on itself
Insomnia places me in a dark maze without escape
The hours I spend awake feel like an eternal road with no start or end
Like the ouroboros, we both devour ourselves endlessly in our despair
Insomnia keeps my mind turning over and over, and I never settle into sleep

Are the words that come out of my mouth really mine?
Am I just a brainwashed child?
Are the thoughts I type really mine?
Am I just filled with false lies?
Are the letters and constants I repeat in my head really mine?
Am I believing verses that aren't even true?
Are the actions I do really mine?
Am I eating up your words like you want me to?
Are the looks and trends I follow my own free will?
Am I following morals that are really mine?
Are your words even true?
Or are your words filled with tricks and lies?