whether I try to identify as
a girl or a boy in any way
the only thing consistent
for me to identify with
seems to be lonely

everything around you is blurry
all my focus is pinpointed

your eyes shining
while laughter light up your face
all I see is you

sounds, smells, sights
all come down to
you

Sympathy from those around me
Mercy on the constant lateness
Irritation when I keep saying I’m fine
Lies spilling from my lips everyday
Easy company is only at her grave

I want someone to hold
and to be held by someone
someone to love and comfort
to dance around the kitchen with
and to whisper I love you to in bed
during the soft sleepy lazy times together

you stop and see
that there is more
so much more now
to everyone around

they're not a someone
not a face in the crowd
they have hopes and dreams
struggles and down days

Ever individual
we will ignore
going about life
focused on ours

We're so used to violence in our schools and on the streets
that when we go home and see it it's in the back seat.

Witnessing a crime against family,
it's like we have lost our own humanity.

The plague in our minds.
Minds, mindset with no direction.

No distractions

So we take to the bottle
with nothing but empty sorrow.

We drowned in them,
overfilled with liquid hate
and pushed down by the sorrow we saw
and felt in every corner of our lives.

We drank till we thought no more...

An angel stands before me
singing shattered twinkles
of starlight crashing
down on my retinas
&
Your eyes hold galaxies
never before now
has lost in your eyes
been so true

do you see it?
shining so quietly
through the cracks
yearning to be lovely
trying hard to be light
can you see the star inside?

"how do you force feed an angry ferret?"
like trying to tame the seas it is difficult
or to do the reverse of someone as a parrot
but I'm glad to be here to try and consult

Summer time
lazy days
sleeping in
season change

School is out
it's vacation time
it's also time
for desperate measures

Summer dazes that push
you down into bed
where you cannot leave
broken from seasonal sadness

sure simple syllable
some say
sho͝or or sh-ur
sure of
shrug sure

we're not really sure what sure means

I'm swallow'in
things I'll never be
what the world wants

I'm swallow'in
their opinions of me
what society says

I'm swallow'in
all my own thoughts
to keep on breathing

I'm wallowing now
in what I could have been

the soft pull of you
fabric across my skin
pulled over my head
with rolled sleeves
you keep me warm
tucked into your folds
burrowing down softly
a comfort like no other

Her name tastes sweet like blue
She looks like crashing waves sound
She crys like the ocean screams
Her happiness is feels like fresh rain

fresh like crisp bursts of fruit
it’s a popping kind of thing
that explodes in your mouth
it’s juicy sweet and succulent
you know it when you taste it

Life is a game of telephone
my messages mingle in my throat
the translation is lost
some where between my lips it twists

when I mean I love you
it comes up meekly as hello
when I mean do you want to get coffee
it comes up as you look nice today

Miscommunication led to friendship
games of telephone go on
I sit at your side through life

when I mean your my everything
it comes you as best friend
when I mean I can't live without you
it comes out as I'll always be here for you

Year on down the road
you're still unreachable right next to me
every conversation
a long game of telephone

what peers from far above
what stares from the corner
what leers from the shadows
what watches from tree knots
what lurks from the undergrowth

at the end of the world
the sky is dyed in grey
the ashes of us all falling
through the still air

huddled away with you
shaking but holding tight
watching as the end comes
and as the planet dies

flow like water
through the rapids
let not one drop go
move in heavy groups
rushing past the rocks
let not the stone stop you
push and push till we all
flow through freely now

an ever looming measure
up and down everyday
my mood hangs on it
heavy and disgusting
a feeling that hangs over

There was a porcelain teacup on the shelf
hidden away behind the others
Long ago she had found it in a dusty old shop
and held it with care as many would
close to her heart
cradling it like something precious
She took it home that day

There on her shelf was a little teacup on the shelf
shown proudly on display
Dainty and sweet with little tea stains
lips had left a little pink smudge on the corner
Loved and appreciated the teacup sat

There was a dusty teacup on the shelf
among the packed boxes it went
Surrounded by windows draped by black
and the smell of salt in the air
Packed away and stowed in a closet it stayed

There in the box lay a little teacup
dusty and chipped a bit on the edge
A reminder of times went by
of tea parties at the kitchen table
of little ladies dancing on the carpet

There among the other cups and such the teacup lay
as they mourned another lost and pulled their lips to a smile
remembering good times gone by and loves lost
Seeing the disrepair and with much care
they took the teacup from the box

There on the counter a teacup sat
freshly dusted and glued together
It stood filled with rosy tea and healing herbs
brought to a mouth kissed gently
They let out a sigh sat the cup down
and began to cry

Only time will tell
how forests age
aching from the fires
and planting new seeds

Only time will tell
how the mountains
shall move and crumble
into the cities we see

Only time will tell
how the waters settle
slipping deep in streams
and wading through

Only time will tell
how we will break
away from one another
into another we know

Like hands around throats
ringing the breath from lungs
words will bubble and foam up
spilling from those tender lips
melting fragile hearts like acid
chains that tie feet to the ground
eroding skin into bleached bones