[Dear Planet Zog]
Light lies in the skin
In the mud, in the smell of a ruin...
In the quaint moments shut wanting to open...

In a zillion children’s burnt blood decanted from tilted hospital ruins
Not in the robots that breed robots for a planet they won’t call Zog (stupid)

There’s so much we could be doing but don’t because of how we’re feeling (odd...)

Because of what this predictive text wants us writing...(off)

**** it... I’m not frightened, never have been of being
Just frozen – broken – breaking – mending – sending – back to my soul – a child and teacher’s chance to know but not neglect this

To flow... and fetch fragments of that bliss we still nurture as it glows, grips, insists...(to wake in some blue moonlit snow and project this)
[That’s all I’m not afraid to know now – but go on, skip...]

Oh, stupidity, where do I begin?
I always resort to cutting my skin.
Why do I do this you ask?
Well, it all started in the past.
I felt a growing pain in my brain,
A tingling sensation in my heart,
And until then,
And way back when,
Wait... I don't even know where to start.
Once again, let us begin.
I was insecure about my body and a double chin
Normal things maybe,
and I really wanted someone to call me 'baby'
I was love-drained.
Not to mention, I loved the rain.
Then came the emotions,
New ones I might add,
To hurting myself when I get yelled at by my mom, or dad.
My therapist has told them how much I hate yelling, or even loud sounds,
but they always resort to it, when I'm already feeling down.
Now my mind is filled with thoughts,
I can't even answer.
Because when I do, pain is included,
As I think, this will do it.

It’s not my fault
Is what I’m trying really hard to believe.
But you are the sweetest
So how can someone like you do this to me.o

It’s not my fault,
I keep telling myself.
I was ******* drunk,
You shouldn’t have take my yes legitimate.

It’s not my fault,
It’s hard to believe you would take advantage like that.
I’m usually the problem .
But it wasn’t mine this once.

It’s not my fault,
You should have know better,
I think you did.
You just knew I would never allow this sober.

It’s not my fault
you jumped at my “yes”
Then had the nerve to say the next day
I would never without consent.

I’m trying so hard to quiet that voice,
Keep repeating to myself,
It’s not my fault,
But I think it’s my fault.

Everyone thinks I’m an idiot.
Even me.

My friends think I’m funny
but not smart,
not sharp.

I got a certificate to belay while rock climbing
just so I could be like my friends,
but Ryan wouldn’t let me belay him.

Claire thinks I’m not good enough
to teach others how to climb.

Mira told me,
“you’re the last person I thought would know the answer,”
while we were studying for a final.

I felt unsteady afterward,
like I was winded.

My mood sank fast.
There was a pressure in my abdomen -
like I had to take a ****
but I was holding it in.

And on the same note,
I wanted to run
away,
out of sight,
so I could **** in peace.

But instead,
I laughed it off
and smoked cigarettes on the porch
when I got home
because I’m too stupid
to read the label.

I am convinced by my own actions, too
although I can’t decide
if it’s my forgetful brain
or just my personality:
aloof,
head in the clouds.

I remember walking through the halls of high school,
friends passing by, trying to get my attention
but I was staring at the ceiling again,
at the scattered marks, how they had no pattern,
and how that somehow made me uncomfortable.

Either way,
the stupidity sticks.

Don't search for me for where I am,
I'm not searching for where you are.

To that which you "belong."

Don't look for me to the future,
For I learned your histories & they are repulsive.

The records are detailed & long.

Don't give no magnification on my past,
For I have the details of your future.

Wrong is just wrong!

My Stupid heart okay ...
I love you everyday ...
I wanna hug alright ...
I miss you everyday ...

Stupid heart , it screams ...
It need some ice cream ....
But sitting all alone ...
Just waiting for phone ....

Alright .... **** it ... I miss last line