He's a real nowhere man
Sitting in his nowhere land
Making all these nowhere promises
To somebody

He's as blind as he can be
Just sees what he wants to see
Nowhere man
Can you see me at all?

You shouldn't wait for someone to lend you a hand
You awful
Awful
Nowhere man

I guess the medication worked
I don’t feel depressed

I don’t feel anything anymore

In class
When someone spots my bleeding thumb
Before saying anything to me
Thinking anything
They raise their hand
And say
"Mrs. S! Mrs. S! She's bleeding!

My head screams
"No no no no no"
As I walk to the nurse
What will she say?
What will she do?
Will she ask me questions?
Luckily she didn't
She barely glanced at me
And told me where the bandaids were
Phew!

I wonder what would happen if she saw how bad it looked though...

Of course you feel alone
People don't show when they feel bad
Scrolling on your social media
No one shows imperfection
Or the reality of the world

Of course you feel alone
There is no question in
"Are you okay?"
But a cue to say
"Yes"

Of course you feel alone
Because people cover up their scars
Are wear their masks all day
It's not just you
7 billion at least

Of course you feel alone
We're told
"Don't cry"

Of course you feel alone
If everyone is scared to be honest
Because we have a different opinion
We all might end up lying
Just like the other day
When someone told me
That they actually liked the book we read in class
As if it was a crime
And she was the only one
...
Three other people told me that

Of course you feel alone
And even in that
You're not
I'm right there with you
And so are billions of others
At some point in their lives

And I'm cold in my bed
Tired
Pillow covered in tears because that's where they're used to falling
And I just want to be loved

And I know I am by my friends
And my family
But I want to be stuck in someone's head
And I want them to rub my arm and make me a little bit less cold
And maybe have my tears land on their shoulder instead

I want to be the poem and not the poet for once

It's okay
Its okay
It's okay
It's okay
It's okay
You're okay
You're okay
Everything will be okay
Okay?
You're okay
It's okay
It's okay
It's okay
Breathe and everything will be okay


I feel like I'll never be okay...

One day
I will finally climb that mountain
I will hyjack a car

One day
When the e cops will ask me if I'm okay as I walk in the side of the road
I'll say
"Oh I'm great"
And it wouldn't even be a lie
Because I would know
What was to come
In only a matter of days

One day
I'll walk and walk
Until my legs don't work
And I'll keep going
On my knees

One day
I'll reach that small town
In small America
And I won't even mind the MAGA's
Because you'll be there

One day
You'll say
"I wish I could hug you right now"
And I'll climb in your room from the window
And give you the biggest one
The world has ever seen

One day
I'll be able to hold your hand
And we can walk on earth together
And eat all the jolly ranchers you'll spare
But I'll let you have all the watermelon ones

One day
I won't have to ask
"Still down?"
Because I'll be there
To see it myself

One day
You won't be 26 days away
But right there
In front of me

One day
I promise
And that'll be almost as magical
As you

I would climb mountains
Hijack cars
Walk 26 days
And almost die
If that meant I could hug you
Even one time

One lonely night
Unable to sleep
Thoughts taking over
Exploding my brain
I wrote a poem for the first time
For me

One lonely night
When I discovered what writing did to me
Didn't sleep a wink
I just wrote and wrote
A sewer to the anxiety flooding me

One lonely night
I wanted to feel less alone

One lonely night
I wanted to read a poem
From the average person
Like me
Just trying to make though it each day

One lonely night
I came across Hello Poetry
And for fun
I submitted a poem
Not knowing
How this website would change me

Can I stop your reading of poems for a moment?
It will just take one second I promise
I just wanted to let you know how proud I am of you

You may be thinking how I do not know you
But if you’re reading this
That must mean you’re still alive
And that is more difficult than it seems

I want to let you know
That you’re loved

And yiu may be thinking about how I have no idea
But I do
Because I love you

And I just wanted to remind you
That it wasn’t your fault
It wasn’t your fault
You did your best, dear

It wasn’t your fault

I just want to tell you that the sun was proud of you this morning
Because you got up
The moon was proud because you made it one more day
And your body was proud because yiu kept letting it store you soul for one more sunset

Smile-
form one's features into a pleased, kind, or amused expression, typically with the corners of the mouth turned up and the front teeth exposed.

But it is so much more. Imagine this:

You're waiting in line for lunch at school
you've had a really bad day
Your friends aren't talking to you
You failed a major test
your dad just left

The thoughts in your brain are taking over
You search the room for something to make it better
On the left is someone talking
On the right is someone talking
You look behind you, someone talking
But when you look at this person they do something different
They look at you kindly
And they smile

A smile is pointless if only polite
But this smile was beautiful, mouth open wide
How could she knows that you needed it so much?
Such a small action made your heart touched
But she didn't know
She just did it because she could
So you smile back
Somehow brighter than hers?
And suddenly your sadness has been cured

So you go to your table at lunch after getting the food
Feeling lighter and more than cured
You are happy, somehow
It doesn't last long
But now you can remember the kindness of one

The rest of your classes go by easier
After school you go out with a friend instead of eating food from the freezer
You get an okay night sleep
And this time you don't weep

More days go by, still feeling lighter
You don't even remember the smile
But now you have these habits from the days before
And you like your life more

It's crazy what one smile can do it's so easy but impactful if it's true

Let's just say
I opened my heart
I would smell the anxiety
Fear
Love
Pain

But I wonder
If anyone else would
But I think not
Because when it was closed
No one cared
Or wondered what's really going on in there

So now what now?
It just gets hurt more easily?
I don't need any more of that

I stitch it back up
Now the air smells of nothing important
Fake smiles
"I'm okay"'s
Covered up opinions
Feelings
Screams

I guess it's better that way

Ouch
It's so **** painful

I don't know what to do
With the pain

I don't know what to do
With the knowledge that I did it to myself

My thumbs bleeding
Throbbing as if my heart was right in there
Yelling at me
Judging me for what I did

The worst part
Is the next time I'll see a bump
I'll just do it all over again
Until it scars my heart and my body forever

I feel guilty
But I know it's mostly his fault
I got it from him
He gave it to me
I know he doesn't notice
Or worse
He doesn't care how he impacts me

But all I can feel now is
Ouch
Outside and in

I remember
Standing outside in the cold
I was only nine years old
But even then
I knew I shouldn’t go inside

Without a coat
In my new little dress
And flat little dress shoes
That I wore to a choir concert

My mom couldn’t make it
She was working
So it was just him

He didn’t watch it
Or tell me I was good after
In fact
I somehow made him mad

I didn’t want to get in the car
On the way back
I knew when he was angry
We shouldn’t be driving
But there was a loudness in his eyes
It was scary
And I could not ignore it
It told me I had no choice but to get in

He was
Reckless
Missing turns
Short stops
Yelling at drivers
Especially if they have white cars
Because as he says
“Anyone with a white car is an idiot”
Because that makes sense?

What was supposed to be a 10 minute drive
But it became at least 30 minutes

So when we got back
I decided to stay outside

I paced back and forth
Wanting it be warm
And to feel safe

Even then I knew
That is was best to stay away

Running
Back
And forth
Reach the line

I'm not that bad out of shape
But still struggling

Throat burning
Head pounding as if there's someone trying to bang their way out
And lungs desperately fighting for air

I give up...

I sit down when I reach the line
And try to catch my breathe
Instead of running back

Chest rising and falling
With each gasp for air

Oxygen
Why do you hate me?
Lungs,
Why aren't you working?

Coughs hurt my throat
And make me weak

I take my inhaler
But it isn't working
It's just making me shaky

Panic rising inside me

I can't breathe
I can't breathe
I can't breathe

I take another puff
And wait
1
2
3
4
5
...
Breathe out
And couch violently

I'm going to die
I'm going to die
I'm going to die

No one notices

Everything
Is
Pain
Yet the only thing that helps
Is more pain

I think I'm done fighting it
I need to bleed

And it hurts the most
When you try everything
And you still feel
Like someone is constantly twisting your chest
And banging on the inside of your mind

He ran into the street
The light was red
He made a car swerve

"You could die"
I scream at him from the sidewalk;
Eyes red and full of tears

"I want to,
And you want me to
So it wouldn't be that bad!"
He screams back
I just suggested upping the phone volume...

Everything is loud and out of control
Sounds of city surrounding me

So I just stand there
11 years old and alone
I don't know what to say
So I say nothing at all

He makes it to the other side
I don't know how to feel
He feels far away yet still too close
And I know I'll have to go closer

Let me present to you
The beginning of my birthday evening

Loud music
The bass shaking the ground and my mind
Loads of people dancing around
Shouting "ay, ay, ay!"
Bright lights spinning
Dizziness

The music is too loud
Too many people crowded around
Lights moving too fast
Everything seems like it is closing in on me
And collapsing

Depressed and angry at the world
I put a pencil between my teeth
My last resort
I hope with all I have
It will make me feel better

They're your friends
Until you need them
They want to make a meense
But not admit they are wrong
They'll help you
Until you need help
They claim they're all equal
But they discriminate
They say that they’re fine
But they are far from it
They can love you
But still hurt you
They can earn your trust
Just to steal from you
They can say that they discipline you
When they are harming you
They can say that they love themselves
When the love pours down their arms
They can look confident
But cry at their reflection
They can be your friend
And lie to you
They can claim they want peace
But start to **** one another
They can try to help each other
But hurt each other in the end

They are terrible
beautiful
confusing
complex
Loving
and hating

They are people

People
We are like colors
Of different shades
And different materials

Some preferred more than others
But no matter those differences
Together
We make a painting
On this giant canvas
That is our life on earth

And like all art
Some love this messy painting
Abstract and complicated
"Beautiful!"
They exclaim

And some think
"Orange and blue?
What idiot would do that?
I need to tell them that they're wrong
What's their name?"

People are like leaves
Some have been stepped on
And some have just fallen
Some have been taken by a child and cherished
And some left on the bottom of the leaf pile
Forgotten

People are like leaves
So different from each other
Some older
Some younger
Different shapes and sizes
Colors mixed together

People are like leaves
Some are misshapen and not picked up
And some are declared beautiful and get straightened in a book

Far away we are
But at least when we look up
We see the same sky

I figured it out
People just want to be hot peppers

Peppers are spicy which pushes people away
But their flavor is enough for people to stay
People still love them
cook with them
Eat them
They even learn to love their spice
Just existing is enough to suffice

People just want to be hot peppers
Their “flaws” are loved
People love them for it sometimes
Their wonderful flavors appreciated

People just want to be hot peppers
There are some who can't handle them
Which is normal if you're alive
But despite those haters
They still thrive

No one knew
I hid the monsters
Silenced my screams
Let myself completely die when they mowed the lawn most times
So they wouldn't think of me as a ****
And pushed some of my peices of the broken glass I am under rugs
And some I tape together
To show them
A smile
And be able to try and hold my voice steady
As I mumble
"I'm okay"

I had to be okay
I had to be strong
Because strong in this society means looking together
Pretending to be okay
Walking on your broken legs and trying to push the pain away
Not telling them everything
Becoming vulnerable

If I told them
What went on
It would be like giving them a hammer
As a glass they didn't like
And hoping that they wouldn't go mad
Hoping they wouldn't break me anymore than I was already broken
I couldn't take the risk
Anyhow
No one decided to call ******* on my vague, iffy lies
"Yeah, I'm okay"
"Oh, why did I have to run to the bathroom as soon as I heard someone yell? That's nothing, I have a small blatter, that's all"
They didn't care enough
It was easy to decide

But now
Now I have some people
Yes, they're people
Not trees or stars
That ask me
"Do you promise?"
Ones that check in once in a while
Asking me to write anything
Just to show that I'm alive
Because they want me to be
Truly
They listen
To broken glass
So I show them my monsters
And they listen hard enough to hear my silent screams
To pick me up, **** and all
And say
"What a beautiful flower"
And tell me
That's what I am

The people on the pages
Of those books that I hold close to my heart
Smell like home,
And are the light in the dark of my mind
Are so much better
Than the ones I know
In real life

I wish all the people I see on this site
Would be here
Because they are so much kinder than the average person
And if we would talk in real life
We wouldn't only say silly jokes
But have deep conversations

A prompt in ELA
"Perfect Day"
While everyone started their paragraphs about what their perfect days would look like
With watching TV
And going to the mall
I wrote a poem about how they don't exist
Because she didn't say not to

It went something kind of like this:


There is no such thing as a perfect day
Even if everything goes your way
And you get to sleep in
You eat your favorite food
The sky is blue
Not it's usual gray
And all of your morbid thoughts
Put away

Even if you
Spend the day alone in solitude and peace
Or with your friends
And loved ones
And if you buy a pony
Or win the lottery
Or just smile the whole day
It will never be a perfect day

Because as you lie in bed that night
Or maybe you think about it the whole day
Tomorrow will not be the same
And the sky will return to its gray
And the thoughts flooding back in
And the peace--gone

You can take photos of people
Things
Moments

I wish you could capture feelings too
So I can look at my smiling self
And remember that I I've done it before
So I can do it again
In moments like these
Where I feel that this terrible feeling
Will never end

Pick
Pick
Pick
Pick
My thumb is bleeding
Pick
Pick
Pick
Theres still a bump
Pick
Pick
Pick
It hurts
Pick
Pick
Pick
I need a band-aid
Pick
Pick
Pick
I don't have one
Pick
Pick
Pick
I have another thumb
Pick
Pick
Pick
Oh, it's also bleeding
Pick
Pick
Pick
I need to go to sleep
Pick
Pick
Pick
I lay down
Pick
Pick
Pick
It's still not smooth
Pick
Pick
Cry

I love my pillow
Its fabric holds my tears every night
And I never have to worry about it stopping

It'll just evaporate them and let me start crying again each time
Always

I'm sorry
But you have to stay

I'm not ready to make a star for you yet

I texted you
When I felt so alone
And so scared
And so ready to disappear
You pulled me in to reality
Or out of my terrible one
And gave a good reason to live

I now knew that one person loved me

You hug me so much
And tell me you love me
And you kiss my cheek
And you run and smile when you see me
And I don't think you know
How wonderful that makes me feel

I knew that someone's experience is better when I'm there

You saw my monsters
And you noticed my face
And you noticed my hand picking at the thing touching my face
You heard my silent scream
And you told me everything was okay

I now knew that my screams could be heard if the right person listened

I cry as I write this,
I love you
I'm grateful
Thank you

I have never hugged them
But we are so close
I know so much
I know all of the terrors
I know all of the trauma
And all of the beauty

My mom basically adopted them
And they are basically my sibling

We're both strange
We're both awkward
And we both have a crazy parent

We are parents to pet rocks
So many art pieces
So many deep conversations

We may have never hugged
But Sophia
I really hope you know
How much you are loved

Poetry isn't just rhymes
Poetry isn't even always words
Because when I look at some people
I think
How could they possibly be anything but poetry?

The moon in the sky
Ever-changing
Always beautiful
I look at it and think
How can anyone look at this and not see poetry?

Sometimes when the right person hugs me at the right time
When I feel that feeling I think
This is poetry.

My cat on my lap is poetry
The sunset
The green of the grass you're lying in
A room full of real smiles

A parade for the gays celebrating love
Love is poetry
How could love not be poetry?

I promise you
You haven't lost your ability to create it
Because you yourself are poetry
And everytime you make someone's world even a little bit better
That. Is. Poetry.

You. Are. Poetry.

Poetry is like when you're listening to music
And you suddenly remember there's a volume button
So you make it louder
Everything just seems better
And more exiting

The simplest thing
Like a leaf falling from a tree
Or a smile
Is now fascinating
And all you can think of that day

The biggest, scariest things
Like trauma, abuse, and loss
Are validated
And take up less space in your mind

You start to think differently
Or more
You start to really think


People are different
People have different problems
After you read their poem
You can start to understand them
Or maybe yourself
It makes you love words
And the way it helps us empathize with eachother
And really see eachother

Poetry is for the things we struggle to say outloud
Our deepest thoughts
What we believe is up with the world now
It's another way of communication
For those of us who have thoughts we can't speak
Or we don't even realize we have

I may not believe in a god(s)
But that does not mean that I do not have a religion

I believe in poetry

I sit there
Passively doing schoolwork
Only to look up and notice
There are groups of people who are laughing and smiling

At first
I am grateful not to be one of them
It's so much work to pretend to be happy
To pretend to find the jokes funny
But then I remember
That usually people aren't pretending

I dress pretty feminine I guess
I mean I think I do
But the thought of being called a them makes me smile too

I love dresses
They're comfortable
I feel confident
Or at least more than I do in sweatpants
But sometimes I hate the circular things on my chest
Part of me wishes they were something else
But I'm a girl
Yes yes
Probably

Yeah
I love putting eyeshadow on
The colors make me happy guess
But then again
Part of me really wants to cut my hair short
Have a deep voice
And when someone calls me a she
The tiniest part of me wishes I wouldn't be
Probably nothing right?

But I don't really know
I don't think I'm right there in the middle
That's for sure
After all I like skirts
But I also sit like a guy sometimes
And it feels good
It feels in between
But no no no
I'm probably not
This is probably nothing
Probably

Most of me loves my name
I mean I know it's pretty
It's a vine
It's beautiful
It's nature
I love nature
But it's so feminine
But I guess it's okay
It's probably okay
I think this is fine
Whatever
I'm probably overreacting anyway
I don't need this now too

I'm a girl
That's what I've always been
Probably
Probably
Probably

There's work I shouldn't be doing
But work I will not do
Until it's the very last moment
And I have to

Of course
Sometimes I feel cursed
Because of my mother's job
For she plays music
Professionally
She plays trombone

Never a routine
Always schedule based on shows

No sleep
The gig ends at 2am and there's a flight to catch at 4

No social interaction
With anyone my age

And pressure
To be a talented musician

But also
I think it's worth it for

The moment I watch her solo
Go crazy and show her soul
I get to think to myself
"****, that's my mom out there!"

I get to play on stage
Big audiences watching
Or more
Listening

Meeting people
From all over the world
With so many stories to share

And see her
Be a role model
For young girls who really want to be like her

"This isn't a book, Liana"
"Things are as they seem"
"This isn't science fiction"
"This isn't a dream"
My friend tells me
Blames it on how many books I read

"Prove it"
I say

She can't...

Because I feel that days are all the same;
Boring
Dull
And lame

I ask all my teachers a question
"Would you mind telling me as many uses for a paperclip as you can name?"

The numbers ended up being
10, 5, 8, and 2
Uses for a paperclip

And after they were done
They asked why

The average adult can name 15
And the average kindergartener can name 60
Because as you get older
You ask less questions

"Can the paperclip be 100 feet tall and made of chocolate?"
"Can it be made of water and fit perfectly in a glass"
"Can it become president and pass laws?"

But society gets to the souls
The creativity
The curiosity
And discourages it
So that the only answers I were
"To clip paper"
And "as a bookmark"

I may be quiet
But that's just because my mind is loud

Proof that people have so many layers, and that we are all so beautifully complex and interesting:

Whenever I yawn as I get up from bed
I do a high pitched sequel
Because my old dog used to do that when I was younger
And I wanted to be like her

When I want someone to get something for me I always say "I can't reachhhh"
And stretch m out my arm
Even if it's on the other side of the house
Because once when I did that I made someone laugh as they were crying

Whenever I ask someone if they're okay
And they say they are
I always ask
"Do you promise?"
Because someone did that for me once and it made me feel so loved

I have a folder on Pinterest saved as
"Everything is alright sweetheart"
Full of strangers talking to the camera
Comforting the theoretical strangers watching
Because the very fact that someone would do that
Is enough to comfort me sometimes

Whenever I need help to do the simplest electronic-related task
I always ask
"Can you do magic pwease?"
Because it always makes one of my friends smile
And I would do so much for that

When I was younger I used to light a candle in my room
Close my eyes
And pray to the stars
To make things better
Because I knew that no god I wanted could put me through this pain

I reread old text messages every night
Over and over
To prove to myself that it's all in my head
And no one hates me
Because once when my friend told me she felt that way
I gave her that advice randomly
And I realized it was actually helpful

****
If when I hurt myself
I'm hurting the younger version of me too
When my father gets hurt by me
I must be hurting the little boy playing in the grass
Having hobbies that his parents said were a faze
And who never thought that the person he is now
Would be the person he was going to be

When he says I'm the reason he wants to die
Does that mean I'm killing that innocent child too?


Guilt consumes me
I hate my mind

I need to start doing recaps
when I come home
So I know what I am capable of that day
That way
I don't end up exploded and exhausted
My splattered insides looking up at me
From all over the room
Something I can't just clean up with a broom

Ingredients:
2 cups soul
4 tablespoons heart
1 3/4 cups creativity
8 cups whatever flavour you want

Directions:
Mix it all in whatever order you please
Put it on the oven 428510°
After it explodes
Write about how your house burned to the ground

He is the kind of manipulative
That makes question yourself
And your memory
So I found a loophole
I record everything
On my phone
So I can check to make sure

It's sad that I have to do this
With my own father
But I need to
For me mentally