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Most of the questions started that way.
But I learned that these questions have become null in most cases.
Because usually, they're the questions that people will try to answer right away.
Because they don't want to hear that question.
Because that question comes too quickly.
Because it is really annoying to hear someone ask that kind of question.
Because it makes someone vulnerable to the answer.
Because it's easier to just dish out the knowledge one has than have someone scavenge for it.
Because sometimes the explanation has already been given.
Because many people don't know how to explain, or if there even is an explanation.
Why did I treat this person so horribly?
Why don't I tell this person what I'm really thinking?
Why can't I be better about this habit?
Why can't people see how I see?
Why does everything have to just get complicated?
Why are humans so crude and stupid?
Why can't everyone just get along?
Why are these things bad?
Why are these things good?
Why is anyone eve
GeographyMy last year of elementary school
Possibly the best on record
Before I grew up
We had this assignment that was meant to present
Our knowledge of these certain terms
Mountain, plateau, key, archipelago
Peninsula, strait, and so on, et cetera
Given these small, thin sheets of paper
And the definitions of each
I set out on a snow day to pursue this project
Colored pencils and a black felt pen
Carefully drawing them
Tongue out the side of my teeth
I wanted it to be perfect
It was a four hour ordeal
I remember reappearing out of my room
And lunch had gone by long ago
But I wasn't yet finished
I couldn't find a ring to hang them on
That's what they needed was a ring
And for the life of me I had none
I searched my drawers
Found needles and paper clips and scrap ribbons
Beads, a necklace, small scissors.... A necklace
It was only a simple solution
And I hoped it would be accepted
I even decorated it with beads spelling my name
The praise was more than I had in my eleven-year-old prospect
All on my own!There's a feeling kinda like jet lag
When you haven't written something for a while and
You wonder, "Why haven't I written anything?"
Maybe it's because there's been too much to do
Too much to stress about?
But if you're stressed, wouldn't that cause something brilliant?
It usually does.
Even then, a bit of randomness that
MAKES NO SENSE
Should pass itself off as genius.
So what is this?
A poem or a rant? You pick.
A poetic rant? Can those be poetic?
I've always wondered how slam worked.
I can't slam poetry.
Somewhere back in the fifteenth age of the world, people started slamming
Doors, words, hammers, women, all sorts of junk.
I initially cringe at slamming.
But to let the energy gradually exit the tips of my fingers
And the tip of my tongue
From the nodes and rods and cones and cortex of my brain
That poetry comes freer and sweeter.
It may never stay within my memory, but once it has been
Written; captured with an inken audience; set in a grave stone
Brought to life on a
So what are we doing here?So what are we doing here?
I'm not sure anymore.
Something happened, and then things just lost themselves in a wormhole somewhere.
Every once in a while they pop out of nowhere, like another wormhole opens up and shoots them back in my face.
Before all that, I was crazy, crazy in love with more hope than anyone deserved.
I knew you were clueless, and I just dealt with it because I knew that dealing with things was going to be something I had to learn. Everyone time you mentioned her so casually, I pretended it wasn't a slap in the face to me. You never meant it to be, so why would I have to take it that way? I was giving us time to build, to grow.
Then you hit me from another angle. That one small thing we don't agree on, that I've tried to kindly make you understand. You don't know that I was on my knees for hours, tears pouring down my cheeks and hands grabbing at my hair, praying for some way for you to just understand. You don't know how many times I've asked God to give you anothe
Just Checking...It's been while
It really hasn't been too long
But, for me, it's been a while
I really don't know what to say
Because I'm afraid anything I say is going to be stupid
How do I admit to you that
For the first time
You actually hurt me
I don't want you to know that
Because you wouldn't understand it
But it hurts more not to talk
Not to simply see how you're doing
You should see me in person
How I'm looking helplessly around the room
Biting my lip
Trying to think of what to tell you
Without telling you a lie
Or telling you the full truth
Friends don't break hearts
So how could I say I've been sick
Like my heart is nauseated by the thought
That we have a rift between us
A rift you don't even know exists
I keep being told
Just let it out already
Put it in your face
But you wear these sunglasses
These sunglasses like you wouldn't see through them
And they protect you
I could imagine you're happy that way
Why make you take them off?
I know I'm not the kind of art that draws your atte
Someone To SaveHow do you find the right hand to grab
In a field of helpless strangers?
Whose is most important?
Whose will be needed most direly?
I see them coming at me
Like the kids on a merry-go-round
Each of their horses bucking them out of place
As they grab onto the pole
Tears bleeding from their faces
And band-aids unable to cover them
Each color should be a shade of brown
But they've dulled to gray
And I cannot see the color of their eyes
I'm not a saviour
But I would be for them
All the worn out shoes
The thin and ragged coats
The bruised lungs
And the scratched ribs
Ribs that have been worn threadbare to protect
My own heart cries to see beasts
Leaping at them
As if attacking their cages in attempts
To get their prey
It rarely ends
It continues to start
Little do I know I'm spinning in my own circle
Dizzied by the music
Waltzing me onto my head
Bleeding life out of my feet
And drowning my brain
I don't know if the hands grab for me
To lift me up
Or to be lifted
I assume they want
A Crack of LightSo this morning I felt like a crab with too much sand stuffed in his ears
And I wanted the salt of the ocean to just pour from my face
I lugged these pounds of sand tied to my hands and feet
Like a hot air balloon without a course
I was drowning in my own air, ungrounded
And I had somehow swallowed my fist as I went through the numbing motions
It seemed like I couldn't handle the little things
I was plaguing myself with my own pain
And the angry syrup flowing through my brain was like
A diabetic low on sugar, yet it was thick with the stuff
When you can't imagine climbing out of your heartbroken cell
Time seems to run all tortoise-like
Everyone hares in circles about you
Neither dream nor nightmare nor wake is your wake
In truth joy and discovery is simply slumbering a little longer
Peace works so hard that his muscles are fighting the lactic acid inside
Because the reality is
Peace can't exist without lots of pain
Without all of that, none of this purity could exist
The soundtrack sto
Warm LoveThe kind of love I want to give is warm
I want to embrace someone in the same way I snuggle a cat
Let their head lean on my shoulder with laughter
Let their tears pour onto the back of my jacket
Rub our clammy hands together on cloudy days
Allow my fingers to run through their hair as much as they play with mine
Giggling over childish things
Make them know that they are sweeter and warmer than a mug of hot chocolate in my hands with gloves and a blanket
Every day is a summer night with a bonfire
Toes spinning on the sand
I will gladly share that warm love, peacefully and quietly, with the best person in the world
Lie To MeFingertips lace around my ribs
And pull at my skin
As my breath catches
At the coolness of your touch.
Calm these trembling hands
And hold them tight in yours.
I'll move my lips on yours
Just so you don't have to.
Hearts beat faster and
My breath shudders with insecurity.
Press my body close to yours
So I don't shatter into fragments.
Lie to me one more time.
Tangle your legs in mine,
Brush your lips along my neck.
Make me feel alive.
Where I'm FromWhere I'm From
I am from piggyback rides
And the fluffy stuffed animals that covered my bedroom floor.
I am from the messy sandcastles and slippery slides at Mason Park, Where I jumped from rock to rock.
I'm from that distasteful lake odor,
Where I tossed small pieces of bread into the water for the birds to eat.
I'm from the young, soft tabby cat
That once sat in my warm lap.
I am from the artistic hands,
That were passed down to me from my Great Grandpa Frank.
I'm from the completed books that I tossed in my opposite direction.
I am from the woody, aging trees
Whose branches I used to hang on.
I'm from the screaming,
The horrifying threats that awaited me at home
From my intimidating mother.
I am from the green Toyota,
That was sold for money to pay the bills.
I'm from covering my ears,
From closing my eyes,
Wishing this was all a dream.
I am from those moments
All the cherished memories fading away
Blown away in the fall wind.
Little GirlYou saw me,
Broken under the tree.
I sat alone,
Trying to be my own person.
Trying to live without a crutch.
But I guess you looked through me,
And saw the broken little girl I am.
I wish you hadn't scooped me up.
I wish you hadn't started caring for me.
I wish I hadn't cared for you.
You saw me cry.
You didn't know how much baggage I carried.
What I had,
You could never deal with.
The baggage I carry,
Needs someone to be around all the time.
I've been neglected.
Ive been lied to.
Ive been left out on the street to fend for myself.
Ive been left to fight other peoples battles.
I just want to be my own person.
I want to not hurt anymore.
If you see me sitting under that tree,
Don't come up,
And try to save me.
You would be trying to win a losing battle.
Reaching Out.I'm reaching out with my hands
Expecting you my love to embrace me,
But when I close my hand and see that you
Have not yet grasped on,
With every time I open my hand
To this painful empty feeling,
It tears this hole in my heart open
Letting it fill in with sadness,
And letting it become deeper.
So I let my nails grow out
Not expecting for anyone to latch on,
Continuing to grasp this desolate air
I find my self falling down in despair,
But then I see you reaching out
To grab my lonely hand out from the dark,
But alas I cut you,
I lost the sense of caring,
My nails and my heart,
Have become too sharp for this hand to hold on.
Run AwayThere have been so many times,
I have just wanted life to stop.
For me to run away form this life.
You treat me like garbage,
And I don't know how to handle you anymore.
I want out.
If I died young,
Life for you would be the same.
If I died young,
You wouldn't mourn my passing.
If I died young,
You would keep living your life the way it is.
If I died young,
You wouldn't care.
I feel bad for you,
That you're like this.
One of the few people that care about you,
You push away,
And could care less.
So if I died young,
You wouldn't notice.
NoNo, I am not okay
No, I will not be okay
Nothing you can say
Will make this pain go away
No, I am not fine
No, I will not be fine
Maybe this is all just a sign
That for him I should not pine
No, I am not all right
No, I will not be all right
I cannot sleep at night
For my regrets are in my mind's sight
Yes, this will take time
Yes, lots of time
All I want is one last stime
To convince myself he's not slime
Rains of SorrowThe rain is pouring
Pouring down sorrows
Pouring down visions
Of what will happen on the morrow
I know I cannot stop it
But at least I can try
Fling my arms wide open,
And beg mercy from the sky
O my lord Zeus!
Why must you plague me?
I played your games, stepped in your traps
I gambled dice with the tendrils of Destiny
What do I get,
For a half-broken wish?
Sorrow upon sorrow
Despair and anguish
Rain, rain, please go away
If you must, come back another day
Come when I am happy and bright,
Come when I have truly found sight
Go trouble the old man,
Sleeping on his porch
Don't harass me
Holder of Fate's torch
Lest it blow out,
Lest the flames die,
I can do nothing
But sit down and cry
Cry for the future, cry for the past
But however bad they are, the present is worse
The present's not a gift
The present is a curse
Graveyard of my dreams,
Dreams that never came true
Dreams of me walking
Slowly towards you
But then you pass by,
Without sparing a glance
This is destiny
Not the child of chan
Nothing like the First LoveThere's nothing like the first love
And those early signs of bliss
Where heartache's still unheard of
And all you lust for is a kiss
When we're still so innocent and pure
Think with love, this world, we cure
But we're just so immature
Gave our hearts away without really being sure
There is nothing like the first love
No one could ever take their place
We may come across pure beauty
Only to find perfection in their face
And the thickness of their lips
Combine to form a perfect smile
Leave our hair standing on its tips
Nothing like the first love
Even if one day we grow apart
We will always keep the memories
And a special place for them inside our hearts
All of a sudden I get these flashbacks
From the first time I ever laid my eyes on you,
I remember the smell in the air,
Not even knowing what would happen soon
I knew you would be one in my life; so rare.
Your hair flowed like a chocolate sea
Looking over and glancing at me,
Smiling and waving
As I blush and hide
You had no idea
You stayed in my mind.
I was too shy
To come at all close to you,
I would try to say hi
But no matter how hard I tried
I would always be
The quiet shy guy.
But one day it happened to me
You came and sat in the very next seat,
That was the day I truly knew
True friends were made
I always knew it was you.
Over time the friendship grew
It was nothing that I ever knew,
I started to feel
As if it weren't real
An imagination that I could possibly feel.
I started to love what would not love me
Looking back that's what I see,
A gift a rose a smile to be
It was hard for me.
I was starting to express my love,
Slowly but surely we began to hug,
I thought you s
You're My PhobiaDriving me into darkness
Huddled in fetal position
I couldn't stop the frightened tears running down my face
That strange sense
That looming animosity I was clutched in
It has never disappeared
Even if it never truly existed
This tower over me, this shadow
The bane of everything I dream about
I can't speak, not face to face
Look in the eyes
Hear that piercing, blasting voice
I go numb
Alone and vulnerable
I feel so weak and defenseless
Just the mention of it
Curdles my blood
Treated like a friend but feeling like
I am the prey
Going cold in an instant, tense and dry
Wishing only to look at the floor
I wouldn't dare approach
Nor wish to be approached
It's like meeting a black hole
And feeling the blackness of the gravity on the hairs of your skin
I can't scream, I can't cry
I can't run and hide or fight
I just have to find a shield
And pray the fire doesn't come beating down
This is a phobia
It has no particular name
But I'm sure it's not n
Genghis Whenever we were bad my mother used to take us to the mall to see Genghis Kahn. They kept him in a dusty diorama of a Mongolian steppe, all tall grass and yurts. He sat on a throne of bone (well, plastic shaped like bone), scowling in incomprehension at the American kids who flocked around him like startled lemmings. My mother would usually push us toward him, saying things like “Tell him what you did to your father’s stamp collection.” Genghis would give a grunt, spit a wad of phlegm onto the tall grass, and give us a wizened, wrinkled grimace, as if he had to go to the bathroom.
He terrified me.
My brother couldn’t get enough of him.
When my brother got caught in my mother’s evening dress, my mother grabbed us both and dragged us to Genghis. It was a slow day, and we were the only kids crowding him. “Tell him what you did,” my mother hissed a
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