Why do you think society expects you to
1. Dress the same
2. Talk the same
3. Have the same problems
4. Laugh at the same thing
5. Look your best at all times

Because you let it.

We’re tired of seeing the exact same photo of you with the exact same people in a different bathroom mirror every Friday night.

Why can’t you hangout with other people?
Will it ruin your “rep” that much?

Is it really necessary to get hammered every weekend?
Why are we the ones who have to sit in one spot while you rotate around the room telling the same story to every one of your “friends”

Are you sure they’re your friends?
Because they talk behind your back

Why do you stay with that *******?
You know he’s hitting on twenty other girls, including your “best friend”

You spend money to look like you work for ***** Wonka.
Can anyone say Oompa Loompa?

How come we can’t make it through Instagram without knowing your order for Starbucks?
One grande non-fat white soy peppermint mocha at exactly 120 degrees with an extra shot of syrup extra whip and sprinkles put in the cup before anything else. Please?

We can’t afford to buy gas masks just to walk by your locker.
Spraying that much perfume is deadly.

We can never tell if you’re trying to smell nice or trying to start chemical warfare.

Is that makeup or a mask?

Your bra makes you a C-cup but you’re really only an A-cup.
Shhh, we won’t tell the boys.

Is it necessary to stop in the middle of the hallway to talk to your friends?
No, get out of the way please.

We know you have a car
You don’t have to walk around holding your keys all day.

Why do you spend so long trying to perfect the “messy bun” look?
Boys aren’t looking at your hair.

People don’t see you,
they just see your persona.

I wish I could write the songs I dream. I wish my carpe noctem sense of liberation woke up with me. I’d keep it on my finger and wear it as a ring. I would laugh when I looked at it because a ring that means everything is not what I am.
I am what means everything.
I wish our days were longer and the sunset lasted hours.
I wish the sunset lasted one second.
One second and only a handful of people are able to see it every night. And for that one second those few people would be completely and whole-ly of each other. And the dates we remember, the weddings and babies, the numbers on our gravestones, they’ll mean nothing because it is all about the times you saw the sun run away.
One Hundred year old men will count their times on one hand. The few children, the ones the universe cradles, they will think it more than to see the queen, to be kissed by a president. Those stories will be the ones we tell.
And if you’re lucky enough to see it with someone else- there is no point in staying together. Leave each other. Walk very far in different directions and don’t you ever look back. Do this because even with the oceans and masses and foggy memories between you- you are one. You live in each other’s wrists. You’re tangled in their veins and soon enough those ghastly bodies will tire, and you’ll be each other once more. You’ll braid together like tinsel and you’ll get your chance to chase the sun away, give your moment to someone else.
Oh, to be them, to be the rings on their fingers, to sit on their eyelashes and watch a sunset last for hours…

I think...
i think writing poetry
is a delicate art form.
When the words come,
they overwhelm my jumbled mind,
until i can barely distinguish
my own penmanship.
It's beautiful, getting hopelessly lost
in intricate poems forever tangled in my brain.

(but sometimes,
the page fills with blah blah blahs,
and my head with la la las,
while my guitar gathers dust in the corner.)

I get the impression
we all fear rejection
yet long for protection
against our recession
so here's my suggestion
let's make a connection
stop hiding affection
behind hidden expression