Is it just the weather

Or is it something more?

Will I get better

Once it gets warm?


Am I not meant to be

Alive in love?

Am I not meant to be

In love while I’m alive?


And my body shivers

At the thought of letting you go,

But for some reason I do so much better

In life when I’m alone.


My brain tells me to stay with you

My heart just doesn’t know

I guess I’ll stick around for now

If for nothing more than a show.


I have to believe to stay sane

I want to have trust,

But when you say her name

My head feels rushed.


My confidence says you won’t leave

But my insecurities are angry and mean

How can I stay confident when I feel deceived?

Those girls are so plain but they turn me green.


So I shut my eyes blindly

To the words that feel wrong

I’ll take every sentence kindly

And let the nights get long.

Going On Fifteen

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It’s senior year

But I’m still stuck

Living as a sophomore

I’ve been fifteen

For three whole years

And now it’s made me mean

But this time I might break free

If you’ll stay with me

And I can’t be scared

Or I’ll stay in a nightmare

I miss my dreams:

I could say love

Instead of affection,

I could love

Without fear of rejection.

I’d kill for that


Old laughs

The north beaches

I’d kill them all

If it meant moving forward

Eighteen years old

In rain-tinged Okemos

And so alive

I think you can make me alive.

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I reminisce…

It’s because I’m scared,

To love again

Feels so unfair

I wish I were lost

I wish I cared.


I can’t love you

I can’t be alone

Why can’t I

Just smile for once?

I should revel

In happiness I found;

I’ve trapped myself

In walls and bounds.


I long to be

Ignorant once more

I crave that feeling,

To be so sure

My heart longs

For the golden time

When I had no idea

Boys could lie.


I can’t trust you

At least, not now

Maybe in the future

Maybe somehow


Hearts can heal,

But not if broken twice

So I’m cautious

Treading light.

I yearn to jump

To run free


But I know this time,

It would be the death of me.


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I feel sick

Sick at the thought of being ok

Nauseous at my friends wanting me

Eight months of isolation

Screeching to a halt

And now I’m moving too fast

Speed used to rule me

Used to be the way I lived

But now I crave stillness

I was a whirlwind

Of joy and pain and change

Of life and breath

But since then

I was forced to stop

And I fear things are picking up again

I fear a return to happiness

A reinstatement to my palace

A rise from the depths to my throne

My head spins

At the thought of normality

To rule my life again

But I must push through the sickness

Eat through the nausea

Climb to the mountaintops

I was never meant for the bottom

Never meant to stop

If I stay-

Stillness will be the death of me.

The Girl Before

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And every time he wants more

I wonder about the girl before

Did she scream as loud as I did?

Did she collapse and cry and die inside?

Tears streaming from her eyes

Until her heart was dry

Was bitterness her new mantra?

An unwavering stoniness her anthem?

I do not think I could ever look her in the eye

I know exactly what she’d see in mine

She’d see the way he used to hold her hand

The life that they had planned

She’d see his arms tucked around her

With him, how she’d never flounder

The safety and the joy

The sarcastic and the coy

And then she’d see his arm on my shoulders

And the truth would hit her like a boulder

They were gone

The love they shared gone

Everything they had gone

I remember how that felt.



The constant excitement from chemicals battering against my skin

A crowd dressed in red and black is where I fit in

Surround by a thousand types of crooked sin

Where I can’t quite see what’s within-

And for the moment I can accept my shards,

My broken, shattered heart

And for a moment I can let go of my captive counterpart

I’m free in that I command the beat to begin.

It doesn’t matter there’s a year before I can leave town

To anyone looking for me now I’m not around

My soul’s been lost in echoing sound

It’s in this lost-soul state that my mind is found

And his horrid face gone

In the memory of this song

My captive counterpart screeches its so long

I’m going to be original now.

I’m learning the difference between poetry and lyrics

Some things are meant for silence, some for other to hear it

A human voice turns dead words hysteric

Music makes my poems less acidic

In this wonderful neutralization

Chords give realizations

This is what I’m meant for

I’m original now.


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I’m not fixed yet

But at least I’m at war again

Maybe the first time

I lost the battle in my mind

But I’m fighting again

Charging forward, alone this time

Solo when my feet hit the ground

Staring at my own hungry eyes

Sometimes you need a mirror, not a window

Now I’m a firecracker

Burning revenge on my left shoulder

Desire flaming on the right

This time I’m ready

Ready to take what I want

Make it mine even if it’s already claimed

Timidness has seeped from my bones

Dripped from blood and sweat

Product of the strength

The dauntlessness I have gained

I am the alpha

I am in charge

I will not be taken down

I am a firecracker.

How To Write A Poem

It’s 4AM blasting music
So loud like you’re
Trying to flush the words right out of your brain-
Single replacement
Pumping words in to push your words out
Out through your mouth or better yet
On to paper so they can stay
Rather than falling past stars, echoing out
Never to be heard again.

Then it’s a tap faucet
Whose handle’s been broke
Just gushing out a toxic flow
Kneeling beside the edge of the bed
Head down, but I can’t seem to pray
The voice is too loud so I must let it out-

And the best part is it’s quiet.

Headphones and silence and nighttime and calm
Sound exists only behind my tired eyes
So loud in the silence of everyone else…

Then it’s 8AM waiting patiently.
Typing each line like it’s numb and contained
Stripping out deeper meaning
From each raw emotion
Like there wasn’t that 4AM commotion

Because days break us but hours heal
Because days are filled without all sorts of reactions:
Interactions and suspense
Running and falling, scraping
Against all the minds that exist in my town
Like a glacier
Picking up material- gently forced
To spit back out in the aching
Hours of the night
Who polish my surface again
Make me an ice sculpture
Out of the rawness of human nature
So my words purify.

You know what I find?
You can’t write about anything that isn’t completely personal
If you say you can it’s a lie
You’re blind.
You can’t really write about the war in Iraq
Without touching on the war in your mind
You can’t write about monks who burned until they were black
Without feeling some of the blackness inside

So you write a poem.
And it’s all wrong
Twisted up and coded to death
But it’s beautiful.

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My hometown’s in the dark

I enjoy the night

A certain air of excitement

Gazing out a blackened window

The square glass holding the future

Promise of tomorrow

I slip quietly beneath violet skies

My hometown slips into slumber

I trickle through charcoal streets-

Unnoticed and undisturbed

Giddy in the grasp of isolophilia

They sleep through the stars

Close their eyes to the ones of twilight

Close their minds to the ones of flesh

Too quiet at night

But much too loud in the daytime

  I’ve never feared gloaming

Sunsets bring galaxies,

In the empty openness

I am free  

My hometown is bumbling

Clawing through dusk, screaming, tripping

It’s a race into the day

Sempiternal begging for light

Silly, when their backs are turned

To the glowing aura

In the midst of the dark.

Of Gods and Animals

Youth is a paradox

 Because the young look at the young

And the rabbits are filled with fear

The lions and tigers with excitement

We see each other as animals

Our teenage years the jungle

Tigers want to stay

Feast and laugh and drink

Blood and wine give the same buzz

Rabbits want to run

Run from the mess and pain

The scourge of lost love

Run into twenty-one and freedom from claws…

The old are not the same.

To them, we are not animals

We are Gods.

Shining hair and straight teeth

Blissfully ignorant of the world’s constraints

Even rabbits miss the liberation of running

Ache for humid jungle air

The acid taste of a rainstorm to come.

To the old, the young are invincible

Youth is Enlightenment

To the young,

Youth is trial by Darwinism

And the old stare at the young

And the young stare at the old

As they watch animals become Gods

With the wolves howling as if to say:

“What did you expect?”