The Poet

Bruised creature

Scars would be too much

Yes, poked

And squeezed

And squished

And too young

Sad Creature

Anger is no choice

Pretty creature 

You do not have a voice

It is

a dangerous game 

To live as an artist in a burnt world,

To go around sleepwalking

Unknowing of silence

My heart thumps

I see clouds and angels

Suddenly cupid strikes from above

Now all I want is blue,

Irresistible

I have never seen thunder eyes like yours

or been as hypnotized

as I am

When I am with you

His room

Is now a storage space

For blankets

and dusty picture frames

His room they say

but it is not his.

He has not been here in years

They expected

Him to fill their space with perfection,

only to live in a bedroom

That he hated

So now, rather than a perfect boy

a ghost lives there.

Beauty lies everywhere

Every time I say I love myself

I remember this love was once for you

And I despise that

I want it all back

Pain takes my love away

and gives it all to you

She asks why humans are never content

I say I am sometimes

It lasts for a fleeting moment

In which I am full

When it passes, I appreciate

I live for those moments

I do not miss you

I miss the feeling

Golden

Golden like my eyes

You are golden everywhere

You give me golden butterflies

We fly

Golden into the sweet sky

A summer morning I am missing my mother and brother. I cry for help. I cry silently. I am missing pieces of my soul.

My mother told me that pain goes away. I go to school and I go home. And the pain does not fade. Yes, things happen in between these two places. The pain persists no matter the occasion. I want to be okay.

I write for the broken ones

Broken like me

Fragile and strong

Carrying scars

You are the definition of beauty

I call myself 

On his telephone

And I cry

No one knows me

Nothing can hear me

I am loud and silent simultaneously

No one can hear me

I can not hear myself

Over the sound of everything else