A fresh page,  
Ripe to ****,  
To fill with  
Thoughts, emotions, rage  

A lot of poets  
are egotistical wankers  
who think they  
can write,  
but can't.  

I hate reading poetry,  
I love my poetry,  
Am I a narcissist?  
I hope not.  
I don't like narcissists.  

I can't write,  
What am I thinking?  
'Sometimes life is not a  
Cake walk served up  
On a silver spoon'  
Don't write poetry, Josh.  
You can't do it...  

I'm not a poet.  
I listen to baby  
**** metal and  
Watch My  
Little Pony -  
I have long hair and  
I like rainbows.  

The sticky-note on  
my wall says:  
"Bah! Stanzas!"  
Another one says  
"Welcome to the  
Honorary Magical  
Unicorn Squad"  
So....  

I started writing  
with intent,  
I defenestrated it,  
though...  
It is on the ground  
outside my window.  
I should go pick it up.  
I mean...  
It is cold outside.  

I don't know...  
Sometimes...  
You just have to  
let intent die and  
go with words  
that don't rhyme  
and express emotion,  

I'm not poetrying,  
right now.  
I'm talking to a  
red notebook, with  
thoughts reading  
'I must show this to  
my brother and post  
this on a site with
people I don't know  
that will hopefully  
'upvote' my poem'  
It feels good  
not to be deep,  
To just turn my  
brain off and  
Write because what  
the **** else am  I
gonna do at  
3'o'clock in the morning  
on Sunday.  

I'm a 13 year  
old boy, I probably  
will be whisked off  
to church with my  
mother at 7 am.  
I have a party  
today I need  
to go to.  

The boy I have  
a crush on will be  
there, and so will  
alcohol, so you  
know what that means.  

Oh god,  
That sound manipulative...  
What the ****, Josh.  

Today I wrote  
something that was  
a couple tiers above  
Infant Annihilator lyrics.  
About ****** newborns,  
Why didn't I  
Cry?  

I described very  
vividly what I thought  
would happen in that  
situation with  
everything too,  
Including the baby's  
internal organs,  

I don't like my  
thoughts  
I'm a coltcuddler,  
I'm a furry  
I think about  
My Little Pony and  
Asian businessmen  
who teleport instead  
of taking the bus to  
work.

My friend went  
to the school  
dance as Gamzee  
Or someone else.  
She's in some weird  
fandom... But I can't judge.  
I went as a rainbow  

I can't come out as  
Bisexual her or else  
some **** redneck  
kid will want my  
*** and head  
on a post on his lawn  

******* Josh...  
Why couldn't you  
have been born  
a bisexual girl...  
Everyone likes  
bisexual girls.  

Don't tell anyone...  
But I like the  
way I look when  
I'm dressed as a  
girl. I'm being  
a drag queen for  
Halloween, and my  
friend, Kady, did my  
makeup for practice.  
I am beautiful as a girl.

There's this boy  
In the high school  
who dresses up as  
a girl, but isn't gay.
His name is 'Kailee'  
He is beautiful.

They played 'Come on Eileen'  
at the school dance. Kady  
and her friend, Trinity, were  
doing the Patrick and Sam  
dance from 'The Perks Of Being  
a Wallflower' I was supposed  
to be charlie but  
they stopped the music  
before I was supposed  
to come in...  
**** Commies...  

Some of you have  
stopped reading.  
Some at 'Baby ****'  
Some at 13 year old boy'  
Some at 'Boy I have
a crush'  
**** everyone who  
stop reading  

Josh  
You shouldn't *******.  
Josh  
You shouldn't read ****.  
Josh  
You should stop being  
such a little whiny  
pathetic brat.  
I hate myself  

"Give up on your  
dreams, kiddo,"  
"But...no..."  
Don't hang in there.  
*******.  
****.  
Yourself.  
You stupid ****.  

Y'no  
I want to write a book,  
Call it 'The Raft'  
About a girl  
named 'V' and  
a boy named  
Isaac  

Isaac is a real person.  
I loved him.  
He didn't love me.  
I cried.  
He didn't comfort me,  
though  
He was home  
I was home  
It was 11 at  
night on a  
school night.  

Y'no,  
I read a lot of  
gay ****.  
The best  
story was  
a scotch on the rocks.  
Scotch blows,  
Gets ******,  
*****,  
And gets a boyfriend.  

I want a boyfriend,  
I just don't think  
Austin is gay or  
bisexual.  
I hope he is...

Tee hee, look at me!
Tight little *****, hey can you see?
Not a tan line on me!
I bask nakedly! Tee hee, tee hee!
Pay attention to me!

Tee hee hee, bikini hangin' free
Grab that thing of sunscreen oil
And rub it on freely!
Now I shine reflectively! Tee hee!

Tee hee is not just words to me
It's more a way of life, you see
Each **** that bounces bouncily
Says to the world, tee bouncy hee hee hee

So please upvote my poem, it's free
And score a point for li'l ol' me
Being so single hurts sorely!
Help a girl out, tee hee hee!

The game played no longer how it once was
No votes on new posts
don't check the trends
or check your own for views and comments
The substantive roaming data of broken WiFi connections
Mangle your jangling words, hide your swollen faces behind forced smiles, Rembrandt bastardisations or smeared oil paintings of the black soul(less) beasts that lurk in satiate tree shadows fawned over the lawnmower blue cycle rinse washed acid soaked daydream ***** slap nation
So you revere the works once read on poetical facsimile sites
only to smear words of younger wordsmith wrangled teen angst
and now in your age and ardor it seems advantageous to judge
But then that will leave you hollow inside
or in fact, you could jump from a tall building only to bounce off the concrete into a children's pool and drown there in three inches of **** coloured rain water
But so instead the workload decreases as your dementia bedpost nightmares
all come aflutter
The laced lily white throng of petal pinched patterns masks
the marked men on their dusty knees
There, watch how heads explode
or listen to foley artists rendering the lacquered finish of the watermelon headjuice
Make up words
or make up lies
Wear make-up daily, earn some prize
or don't
I don't care
idc
idk
Resemble rhyme or reason
Disassemble the times and season
Return to pejorative pretensions, rants in verse verse verse verse prose format and **** the rest
Or simply return to the old ways of playing the game
Upvote this, and maybe they'll take interest
Comment here
return one there
Use tags, hashtags, wash rags, fat slags, arm chair fat cats
But always separated by spaces, prettyblankspaces
No, I don't do slam poetry, I'm too white and not nearly rich enough to not care
Reassemble the times and season, maybe make sense of it
Maybe not
Just don't let them become a passing trend, please

For almost 2 days, now, I have been wondering what has been going on.

I can't upvote and comment on poems, and most poems that I see posted have no view counts.

By now one would have hoped that the fallen would gotten back on their feet.

I just wish there was a voice out there, somewhere, instead of speculating.

Logan Robertson

6/02/20

An upvote for
my poem
without reading the
stuff I have put out,
is a down vote.