Think like a programmer, and you can even hate the way you think more!

L’s as in Love and Lies. To me, it seems like lovers keep a **** ton of secrets from each other. I don’t wanna engage in another relation full of lies, especially with one so close.
****. That. ****.

Just read The Masque of The Red Death. That’s where my inspiration lies.

Written and tuned to a happy acoustic song. I can’t sing for the life of me, but it’s done in a happy voice.

Too many emotions to write, so I’m taking a break for a while.

Both parties have to want to shake hands to shake hands properly.

We are all awesome because we are all ourselves. These times have been trying and are most definitely uncertain, but I think we’ll make it through, together.

Hearts beat double-time. There are two muscles that beat almost at the same time. You can feel it if you check your pulse.

I have no idea where the idea came from.

I wish someone told me this when I walked along my local bridge’s 3.5 foot barrier. But I came down myself. Somehow.

It always seems that it's my **** insensitivity that hurts others. After not being able to connect with any emotion from others or even feel any within myself for 4 years, I still find it hard to ascertain what others feel, so I end up taking up the wrong tendencies, saying the wrong words. All of these little things hurt people and the closer I get, the less I notice it, the less sharp I become to their pain, and I hurt them even more. Sometimes I wish I could drop this entire connection to people once more. It would make things much easier. I could then fake everything because I don't feel anything and that would be fine because I wouldn't feel any guilt. But I can't.

I'm sorry. I really am.

Oh god, it is all too many times where I’ve stopped myself from doing stuff... things even as simple as saying hi to anyone.

Input a but after ‘late’ and before ‘my’. Just my passing thought I had as the bags under my eyes grew... saggier i guess...

I tried writing my mind out. “he” actually refers to two different people, one I liked in a romantic sense, and the other one I despise for somewhat unreasonable reasons.

I tried to write.

Not about the action of "becoming one" more about a confession between two lovers who were oblivious to the other's feelings. You know, Romeo and Juliet is not really a tragedy, they got to meet each other in hell.

I want to continue reading “The Murders in the Rue Morgue” by Edgar Allan Poe, but I don’t know whyI can’t start it. I really enjoy it so far.

The field is really nice.

This is why I don't like love. I know I don't love him like I have liked other people (men and women) but I don't know what exactly these emotions are, they may or may not even be love tho. Same dude from the original Slop poem.

Let’s do a daily thing now I guess.

Hopes for the future from the past. And probably present. I’m an *** who stole and destroyed more than his heart.

Yes. This is what my mind is doing to me now. I only want to figure out what happened but my mind is saying “no, *******.”

The illusion I had was that there were lies in the air. Me getting exited over small things again though.

Yeah... another dumb, lovestruck teen. I wrote this while trying to write something that was more descriptive of the night reflected in this poem.

Hit me hard when writing the previous poem. Also a drug lord is the first thing that came to mind with evil powerful jobs.

It’s about an elevator.

I wonder if I’ll have a ponytail by the time barbershops open again. My hair’s longer than it’s ever been.

I realized that I’ve never seemed to have the same effect on others with my writing as others’s work has had an effect on me. Sometimes, there’s more to believing than seeing though, so I’ll hope that somewhere, sometime, I’ll invoke the intended emotion into someone.

True story. I was falling asleep but rolled onto my open pocket knife which I had forgot to close after cutting myself ten minutes prior. My friend is never gonna let me live that one down...

I considered renaming it The Big Picture, but then the poem’s context wouldn’t make sense. Does anyone else name their poems before writing them or am I just weird?

That last line... it’s stayin’ because it’s necessary, but it’s kinda awkward.

Kind of a song, I guess. The first part follows a 4-6 couplet rule thing (4 syllables, 6 syllables), 4 should have an “I” ending, 6 should have an “all” ending. The second part is 4-5 couplet rule thing, 4, again, ends in “I”, while 5 ends in an “ear” ending. Kapeesh? Kapeesh. (Another way I say “Got it? Got it.”)
Oh yeah, forgot, thanks to Caleb for the idea of writing a song.

When they wanted me to unmute myself, so they sang a song about it.

My heartstrings tugged so far,
That they snapped into shreds.
The moon is beautiful in its own way.

The entirety of this is a pun on how I’m broke and lonely. Welp if I have one I might as well have both!

The title has nothing to do with the poem, just the song I was listening to (“Faith”, by Limp Bizkit).

Take of it what you will.

Where has the light gone?