I am the poem
I refuse to write.

My skin has formed itself
as sedimented book pages,
quietly injecting
our unspoken metaphors
into my bloodstream
of Murakami, of Plath,
of everything that hurt too much
to even whisper to my typewriter.

I am a poet,
and I will type you
into the night sky.

If freckles were lovely, and day was night,
And measles were nice and a lie warn’t a lie,
Life would be delight,—
But things couldn’t go right
For in such a sad plight
I wouldn’t be I.

If earth was heaven and now was hence,
And past was present, and false was true,
There might be some sense
But I’d be in suspense
For on such a pretense
You wouldn’t be you.

If fear was plucky, and globes were square,
And dirt was cleanly and tears were glee
Things would seem fair,—
Yet they’d all despair,
For if here was there
We wouldn’t be we.

the words i speak will make you feel that i'm teaching
It must the real stuff I say
must be the way i look at life through the day

The words i speak,
will let all know im quite different than others
might be a reason why im judged
can't say i really care
i've been living for 18 years i been known life ain't fair

The words i speak will have you shocked
cause i speak upon power
speak upon school
i even speak upon the wanna be's who think they so cool

The words i speak aren't ordinary
I speak against my mind
fight against my thoughts
they say life is a lesson
i can't tell cause lot's haven't been taught

The words i speak don't mind to be heard
don't mind to be known
until people pay attention,
i guess my words speak for there own

Cause when you talk about changing the world
people then will think your weird or even lame
But when your killing, hoeing, or ****-gin
it's like the whole world knows your name

how could you,
do a friend wrong
like going behind there back talking
trying to be with a person they love
I guess it's true people gone do what other people do

How could you,
lie right in front of a person who loves you
who always been there
I guess we people really don't care

How could you,
Give up on something good
just to go to something bad
chasing streets in your hood
but when it ends a lot of people will be sad

thats the moment when your gone
somebody came and took your life
see while you deep inside that grave
them same people you thought we're your friends
forgot all about you

How could you,
really think them people we're real
must be because they got all of that bread
How could they be considered as friends
when they didn't show up when you were dead

they set you up with the bust
And people wonder why i never gave alot of people trust

what do you mean just enough,
what will i come to next
did i really fall in love with a girl who was my ex
will our love stay strong or fall into a lust of ***

i don't know what if she cheated
or told me a lie
No I wont cry
even though It'll show I did try

Tried to be right
Even Stayed faithful
now you're going from grateful to hateful

what happened to being together
what happened to the good in your heart
what happened to love me forever
tell me why you wanna be apart

I put it all on the table
just enough,
I guess we should give up
since you think its so tough

Not to much just enough
why use this term
because the word is a term we can learn from
just enough of anything makes a nothing non-exist
but i guess nothing makes you happy now
since you changed

I guess you gotta be popular for followers
popular for likes
once again i speak of this hatred i cannot fight
we all put our hearts into poetry
yet only the popular people get the likes for what they do

i show people love regardless of how many followers or likes they have
cause i understand that a lot of us wanna be heard
we want the world to know that we are here fighting a battle not yet lost
we post our problems so people can understand that life is no joke
we post about ones we love
from boyfriends girlfriends friends and fam
I only speaking the truth cause thats who i am

we all have the talent to change the world
we all have the talent to be as good as poets like Langston Hughes, Tupac and others as well
im just saying saying it's not the followers and likes that make the poet
only Passion and Desire make real poets

right now our feelings can't maintain
well at least mines
i'm just saying it's messed up how you tell me you love me
tell me you ll be there
tell me one day we'll be married
i just feel you don't care

why you get a new phone and wont me text the old one
that shows you hiding something
that shows you lied
now i'm sittings here along with tears flowing in my eyes
i wonder how you'll feel if i was with someone better
someone more of my type
i bet then then you wouldn't feel right