Demonic possession is what it feels like sometimes,
The way I spit words out and they just happen to rhyme
I sit and think sometimes, about what I wanna write
But then it never comes to me , avoids me it stays outta sight and I

Don't know why I'm writing this, I'm sure I'll find a message
To send across the void that is this world and then the rest will
All make sense, no pretence, nor any pretext
That I'm using just busting words before I forget

I gotta add a little something about what happened today
I got my ****** grade from chemistry it was no A
Just a D, and I was worried but my Father doesn't care
I'm no good at Chemistry, he knows that it ain't fair

It's all about experimentation and adapting
To the strengths and weaknesses that make you a masterpiece happening
This world is full of unique people and you are another one too
So you gotta put your head down, do what you gotta do

I would like to make an announcement, before it leaves my mind
To clear up some other **** that I left behind
Me and Georgia now, you know her? I wrote a lot
About how much I hated her, how I wanted to rot

Yeah, we're good now, so please do not look back
On my works, when I went bezerk and launched a stupid internet attack
Some of it was my fault, and I've come to terms with it
We good now, it's okay, so please don't read that ****

I'm sitting here on my bed, not knowing what I'm about to write
Just knowing that I need another way to pass the night
So I spit fire, I'll retire, maybe right about now
Have a good day or night, my friends, be careful when you go out

<3

I started high school with grand intentions of grand friends and grand grades and boys would only be a street-side fruit stand to glance at while I cruised on by.

Intentions never quite work the way you plan.

My first class of the day, a boy with striking blue eyes, an awkward gaunt, and floppy hair sat down next to me and started talking about Pokemon. He had seen my Pokeball pin on my backpack and had singled me out as the person to vilify him the least. I was uncomfortable and unsure, horrified by his brashness. The seat had been meant for my best friend, Cathy.

But the second his mouth opened the teen awkwardness faded from his face and he become bright exuberance. Stunned and flustered, I stared as he passionately smiled and seemed to revel in our one-sided conversation.

This happened for weeks and I eventually became comfortable enough to talk back. His smile widened as he seemed pleased to find another person who was willing to be a little weird. I didn't know nearly as much as him, but I learned because I loved to watch him beam.

Right before the homecoming dance, he asked me out with a poster that said, "I choose you! Do you want to choose me too?" I blushed and said yes, and we coordinated red for our first dance as high school freshmen.

At the dance, though, my blue eyed beamer was someone anew. He was dorky and the way he danced was flamboyant but terrifying. He often ditched me for his marching band friends, and I felt more humiliated and uncomfortable around him than the bright admiration I had felt before.

When he took me home that night, he tried to kiss me and at the last second I ducked away and gave him a hug before running inside. Those lips weren't nearly as enticing anymore when they weren't beaming at me.

The next week in class, he sat next to a different person. A guy from his science class, I heard from my friends. I shrugged and went on doodling on my notebook. At least I learned now what a Gardevoir was.

There we were, back to square one. Guess it takes more than a semi-mutual interest and a beautiful smile to maintain a relationship. And there I was, back to grand intentions and great expectations, but this time I knew things won't ever go quite exactly as you plan.

He ended up dating Cathy later, and he and I are close friends now. He's actually pretty fun when he bothers pays attention.

But this was the end of our love story.

grades
grades
grades
...
they are important.
**** grades.
Use luck.

Every once in awhile
I can’t help
But feeling
Completely clueless

How do people see me
When I’m alone
What do I look like
Being asked to move
Knowing no one
Dosen’t help
As they all assume
I’m all alone

I feel clueless
When I don’t know what they’re saying
But I don’t ask for clarification
In fear of those patronizing looks and smiles

I am clueless
When it comes to the real world
I haven’t had enough experience
Perhaps I didn’t pay attention
When I really should have

I don’t understand
What people are going through
I don’t see the signs
That show
The fears and troubles
They are trying to fix
I just stand there
Blind
Thinking all is right
When all is wrong

I stand there
Thinking how great my life is
I don’t have big troubles
School, grades
Thats it

Still clueless
Still oblivious
I doubt I’ll learn.

All I am is a number
On a computer screen,
Three point seven nine,
Slowly going down
And all you are
Is a can of cheap beer
That you chug, chug, chug
Just to break my heart,
It seems.
You think I’m a criminal
But I said no to the cigarette,
I said no to the drugs,
I said no to the shady crowd
And I hang on to a boy
Who treats me like you treat me
Sweet when I behave
But never going out of his way
Since I’m not worth it
And I treat him
The way I treat you
With hopeful, bright eyes
Lying to myself
Maybe tomorrow
He’ll love me.

Mass incarceration.
****, I mean institution.
Forced vacation that I can't escape from.
So blessed and stressed, no choice but to blaze on.

Learning those ABC's & 1,2,3's
so I can get my  PhD,
but my mom only needed a ******* GED.
Grades so ******, professor thinks that I want a that D.
But, like *** that GSI is such a QT.

So which one of you liberal *****
do I have to ****
so I'm not ******--
living in the basement working at Starbucks?

Academia has done nothing but convince me
that my mind is empty.
At this point I can't tell if that's a good or bad thing.
Am I forever young and dumb
or is this a temporary vacancy?

I measured what you could do with me,
what I thought you could do,
and I was right,
for most of it was true.
I practiced my math,
made a's and a's and b's,
I calculated your words,
tried sifting through their meaning,
I typed them up,
but my heart was just dreaming.
I practiced my grammar,
to tell you how I felt,
but you had already left.
I do my math now,
but I make c's and c's and f's.