who says that we have to conform
to the mold built for us
we have the choice
we have the power
to be free

explore a little
tell someone you love them
learn something new every day and
remember what is really important to you

don't be afraid to be
your own person because
the world isn't looking for duplicates

they may not understand
but then again
perhaps they're the ones
to have been ******

does anyone ever stop to think
what the world could become if
it's people learned how to accept
that some just don't settle for ordinary

why do we view differences as a restriction-
a restriction from being human?

shout for those who can only whisper
stand up for those who are trapped in the corner
write for those who take comfort in words
and inspire those who need to
find something worth living for

tear down the structure of similarity
and be
you

I'm tired of not being understood

And having to understand others

Can I be understood

Is it me or you caught in the loop

Now I'm getting mad

How many paths will cross

Before it's created a loss

A loss is a loss

No matter how much you lose by

****** we can't meet on levels eye to eye

You know what **** this

*******

You and your ideologies

You and your idealistic hypocrisy

Yes I'm irritated 

I don't know who isn't being understood

I will not submit without compromise

Well atleast what's fair to me 

What's that

What's fair to me isn't equivalent

To what you call righteous justice

In your mind

Well I apologize for invading your happy place

I'm physically depressed my doctor said

And mentally needy 

That's why I'm so confused and use you 

But I'm still not understood

And refuse to understand when to me

It's accepting something my persona doesn't go by

Or is it tolerating what I deem incompetent 

My grin mimics a cold grimace

Am I wrong

My arm hurts

I'm holding a grudge, but it's really a half full cup of water in my that I've been holding for 14 days

And now I'm thirsty but can't quench my thirst because my arm hurts

Aaaahhhhh

I just want an answer my heart can accept

Is that to much to ask

Or is it selfish of me

father bumps around the house.

-

at night, the night is naked.

-

before one can say
decorate
the interior

she powers on
the television.

-

if twice,

pinpoint poverty’s illness

and

aim a pop-gun.

-

mealtimes
I cough
and the pups
congregate.

-

our bloodied hero’s
shoes

burst.

-

if I am not with shovel
I am had
by a vision.

Storm contains the stars.
These swim in bliss.

Bliss Bliss, not now.
After the storm shall you rise.

how down
the below goes
no one
knows...
but i
assure you...
there is no
god
at bottom
and the zenith
is a tyranny
of empty.
a truer
you.

when
the birds
ate dynamite
to spite
they're beak;
they sang an evil
good, and knew it !
while the black
of their feathers -
wore white
so their black hearts
stood out.
black
nice.

mars,
mars was the God
of War on Red
so when we bled
no one would know
we were drowning
too.

and no one would know
how down the below
floats, nor have a name
for wondering

without a question

There is an elephant sitting on my windowsill
Trunk poised toward the rising sun
Its stance, ready for movement
yet frozen in place.
Pride emanating from the recycled paper that shapes it
Strength breathing in and out of its material lungs

How simple, how easy, how apathetic
Yet how intricate, how detailed, how steadfast

Its empty eyes have seen rain and snow
Storm and still
Its ears lacking the parts to hear the whispers and shouts
But ready anyways, waiting for the bits of noise to trickle through
The elephant on my windowsill
So peaceful and so calm
From a lifeless shell, it bursts with vitality.