Life

I don’t need to think too much about living.

Wake up,
Same time,
And I’m going to school again.

Enter the classroom in a daze
Trying to meet your gaze.
But I don’t,
And now,
I can finally say that’s okay.

I live off of calculating what people want me to say.
Laugh when she laughs,
Smile when he smiles.

I make up answers on my school assignments—
I don’t care anymore.

I’m so tired—
Shut the door.

The endless morning comes again—
I don’t want it to drag by.

The weekend loses its impact—
It’s all too saddening anyway.

Because I have to be without you
For a longer day.

I bite back my tears in class.

No, it’s not some ******* hormones.

No, it’s not my ******* age.

I can’t laugh.

I can’t smile.

It hurts too much.

As I sit there,

a    l   o    n   e,

The recurring feeling of intense nausea sweeps over me—
Encapsulating my body,
And completely penetrating me.

Go through the motions—
Get cheered up by my friends.

But when I see you,
The feeling returns again.

I care for you.
I love you and hug you and—




that’s





what makes it




worse.

Go home,
Long day.

Ask how I’m doing,
And it’s the same thing I say.

Stay up till two in the morning—
Watching shows until they’re boring.

Get four hours of sleep,
Repeat the cycle again.

I try to change the cycle.

And sometimes, I do.


But it all just starts back up again.


I wish it was all something I could understand.

It all seems to be getting to my head.


God—


If this is what living feels like,











I’d rather be dead.

Here I lay,
Still in my bed.

Here I lay—
Can’t get up to eat my
Food for the day.

Here I lay,
Seeing it through till the end of the day.


And there I lay,
My eyelids closed
In troubled dismay.

And the more I sleep,
The less I eat,
And the less I dream.




Here I lay,
An empty sack of bones.


They bring me food—
Force it down my throat,
And nothing comes of it.



And they don’t realize that this bag of bones
Is slowly suffocating
And suffering


Under the comfort of the bedsheets.

i’m honestly scared to death of
falling for you but
maybe i’ll just


let it all play out.

you’ve always




disliked me






on a grave scale.

there’s a knock at your door.
care to answer it?
oh, you didn’t hear it, did you?
oh, that’s okay.

she’s saying hi,
don’t you hear it?
oh, you have headphones on?
that’s fine.

she’s giving you a gift—
do you want to open it?
you didn’t receive it?
ah, i see. that’s fine.


wait, you noticed this whole time?


you opened the door, but she just didn’t say anything?

she said hi, and you waved back, but she just walked away?

you opened the gift, but there were only tears in it?

oh, so you do care about her wellbeing?






oh, so it’s all in her head?

maybe i should just stop writing poems



about problems that i supposedly have.

I wish you were someone I could read—
I wish I could know if you really love me.


I wish your voice was something I could understand.

Your way of speaking seems so soft at times—
You have a rich baritone that encompasses so many mysteries.

I wish your eyes were something I could read.

The way you look at me is like no other—
But I’m too afraid to look back.

I wish your voice was something I could understand.


When you sing to me,
The notes and melodies interlace in a ribbony flow—
Almost like that of caramel.

When I lay my head on your chest,
I can feel the vibrations from your vocal cords as you speak.


I wish your voice was something I could see.


Disguised in flowing silk—
Your voice can feel like a ploy.

I wish my contempt


Was something you could see.