Poetry

Am I too much or not enough?

Do I care?

Not really... 

this is my year to not care

with the excess pieces of me tying themselves up

covering up

armor before it changes

"it" being everything

Lights flash

Red white and blue

The colors of the country

That I used to love

Before 

They started

Tearing apart families

If I could have the number

To my younger self

I would tell her

To not be scared to ask for help

And to cry without

Being scared of

Being weak

I would tell her 

It’s ok to be sad

Often times

I will write

A note

To who I will be

So I may remember 

Who I once was.

So, 

At 30

Will I watch myself old self

And wonder where it went wrong?

The wind whispers

Its mistakes

And it falls

From the heavens 

Heavy like rain

With the whispers of all

The secrets of those

The sun is bright

bright on my face

Radiance shines

My features alight

But my eyes are covered

By thin, pale lids

And all I see

tell me that i am

not okay

i mean

am i valid enough

to be labeled

to be put in a jar

of "sick" kids

i dont know if im sick

i know somethings wrong

but ive been told my

its hard to tell

if i want to date her

or be her

its hard to tell

if i want to date him

or be him

who am i?

i keep myself the same

because im afraid if i change

i will lose you

i love spring

anyone who knows me knows that

i love how the butterflies swarm me

and the pixies make you cough

and how you can taste summer

in the sweet honeydew maple air

on the other side of autumn

When I met a girl on Omegle who read me like three incoherent, handwritten, multi-page love poems

I think that's what it means to feel something

breathing in

breathing out

i have a dream

for myself

when im double my age

anxiety still choking me

making it hard to breathe

on my own now

maybe a lover

maybe not

an actor

I hear the river running, 

flowing with not a care in the world.

I see the leaves falling to the ground,

a thick carpet on the forest floor.

I feel a light breeze on my skin,