I bought a white rose today. Not for anyone, not even for anything. It's for me. I buy myself flowers; they make me happy. And I'll do whatever it takes to make myself happy.

All my life, I've been sacrificing everything—even myself—for people who couldn't even appreciate it.

And I think, I think now is time to love myself.

When did I start becoming
More of myself
When I'm with you
Than when I am
Alone.

I've been subjected
To far too much
Of your *******.

One
Two
Three.
Each have their equal.

Makes a
Two
Four
Six.
All married in the squeal.

Make a movie from this *******.
Write a trilogy for youth.
Paste the pictures on a portrait.
Turn the ******* into truth.

Truth.
What's the
Truth.
Lately I don't give a
****.

Where is God
Where is Allah
Where is Buddha
Where is man.

They're all out there to
Protect us
To give us a glimmer of
Hope.
But I don't feel protected
Not in all of this
*******.

You can't tell me that I matter
With a straight face.
And how funny it is
That you expect me to believe you
When you say it'll be "alright"
And you whisper
"baby please don't
fright"
Baby baby please don't
Frighten the children
With your talk of
Failing kingdoms
And your thoughts of
Desperation.
Baby baby please
Keep it to yourself.

Do you see it yet?
Can you taste it?
All the
*******.
So readily available
For us to take.
To inhale
To pop down
To drink
To inject
To "respect your authority"
To "mother knows best"

Don't let it swallow you up.
When one turns to two
And two turns to four
And then three turns to six
And you're the last one left
To pick up the sticks
Of your crumpling family tree.

Maybe if your two sisters and your brother
All got married and went off with their
New little families
You would understand
Just what I'm going through.
This failing family I'm asked to
Hold together with old band aids
That were used to cover the
Scars in this unit we shared.
Those scars that we swept under the rug
Those "let's not talk about it"
Those "she'll be alright."
I'm sure she just got overwhelmed
By this single moment.
There can't be anything
That we're missing.
There can't be a question
We didn't ask.

It's all *******.

How much longer must I paint on my face
Each morning
To maintain this facade
That I'm not broken inside.
That I'm not so
God
****
Alone.

Drowning
Down
Down
Down
In all of this
*******.

Trying to reach the surface
Trying to let you know that I'm
Not okay.
And that I'm no longer sure that
I will be.

How much longer must I
Stay here.
Hearing you all sing
"Baby baby it'll be alright
Don't you worry don't you fright
It's just a phase
It's just a feeling
It'll pass
It'll pass."
Well let me tell you what.
Let's pretend you care for a minute
And hear me out one last time.
Then I'll shut up and you can go on
Drinking down your ******* with a painted on smile.

Sometimes people are not okay.
Sometimes people are suicidal.
Sometimes people are struggling.
Sometimes people fail.
And sometimes people don't need a doctor
Or a pill off some prescription
To be okay again.
Sometimes they need you
To break through the *******
And to stop caring about
Politics and what your mother and father taught you
To be right.
Sometime you need to forget it all for a friend.
Tear away the stigmas and the stereotypes and all of the
*******
And just hear them out.
Hold them close and tell them
"Baby baby it's okay
To not be okay
All of the time."

Sometimes we just need a break
From the *******.
So please,
Just give me some space.
I'll be okay.
I'm sure I just got overwhelmed
By this single moment.
It's just a phase
It's just a feeling
It'll pass.
It'll pass.

All else
Falls away
When I see your face.

Please stay with me
Always.

I like you because you are inked with the pain of the past, and while the past (a lot like a tattoo) is something that can't be erased you never stop trying to scrub it off of your skin. When I'm in your presence I can feel the butterflies that once resided in the deepest pit of my stomach trying to claw their way out of my throat. You are a wildfire and should never tell yourself otherwise. I would pay all the money in the world to sit in your lap and listen to your entire life story (start to finish). I know you think me falling asleep on the phone every night before you're even tired is me being uninterested but I fall asleep because you're a beautiful lullaby singing me to sleep with no words. I want to help you find a way to disregard the darkness that clouds your mind and retain all the light there is in the world because you deserve it. I do like the idea of you. But more so I like the idea of us. Of what we could be once I'm released from these shackles I call parents. I like the idea of how happy you could be. Of how just a tad bit of light could change your life. That day in your room watching A Nightmare Before Christmas you kissed me and it sent ripples through my skin and it scared the hell out of me because it made my feelings even stronger. I like the fact that I'm able to get upset with you and let you know when you've upset me because trust me that takes extremes comfort. You arrived in my life in the summer. An entity from thin air only visible to my eyes, and for some reason you've chosen to stay.

i.

Giveth respect
For the poem's
Not lit;

ii.

Those art the best
The one's
We seemeth to forget;

iii.

Giveth respect
To the back alley
Poet's.

iv.

The one's with
None likes:
And their poem's below it.

v.

Shineth a thumb's up
To the one's whom deserve
It;

vi.

To the true ancient
Poet's;
The one's we seemed to forget.

vii.

It doth not taketh mazuma
To maketh a bard
Grow;

viii.

It taketh a
Share and a like;
To maketh the unknown known.



©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry