Poetry

I wish I was bigger.

I wish I had a little bit more muscle.

I wish there was more between my skin and my bones,

That my ribs wouldn’t show when I take off my shirt,

That I wasn’t made of tissue paper.
 

Dear Mother, 

I have missed you these past few months. 

Where did you go? 

I see you standing there, torch held high, yet you do not answer my calls. 

A ghost of a father.
An angry mother.
A forbidden best friend.
A suppressed love—
A suppressed identity.

Oh, how strange it is to feel alone,
while surrounded by people.

No friends.
Bitter family.

One of the things that hurts me most

out of everything

is when I see you stressed

frustrated

upset

about things that I agree with too

and you're going through pain

and I don't know how to help

The pen soars

leaps

flies

across the page

dancing against the paper

creating lines

curves

letters

words form

spun from the thin, golden thread of imagination.

The pen twirls

I'll knit you all

Us all

Closer together

So close and so tangled

You're lost in it

In the whispers in your ear

And I'll slip out like a snake

Weaving away from my destruction so I can play in the ashes

My world has been stained pale green.
The clear depths of the deep blue are now a shade of pale turquoise.
Amber light filters through the foliage,
into the hollow cavern that has replaced my heart.

She was born in the radiation era, 
A veil of marble covers her eyes,

Her lids webbed in waves: 

They were stitched too tight

to permit the penetration 

of the perpetrator.

when a star dies, it is a violent explosion.

it can emitt more light than an entire solar system.

and while it pulses with hot gas and blue light,

it slowly dims. until its remnants are scattered

I like to write poems 

bejeweled with heartbreak philosophy 

In which i equate the illusion of love to 

Religious salvation.

(Something real for many, yet not quite tangible)

The world has turned preppy

And I can feel it when I turn on the radio.

Artists I don't like

Because I can't relate to them

Can't relate to the stupid way they flirt

How obsessed they are with themselves

I've been called the sun.

The idea is, the sun of the solar system.

The one my friends revolve around.

I did not give myself this title, nor do I want it.

I do not want to be the sun.

Maybe