I want to be like the cool kids
my younger self wished
that wish went unheard
I stayed true to myself
even through bullying
and stares
I can be the cool kid
cool is subjective
it's what you make it
I can be myself
and be cool
at the same time
I wish I could be like the cool kids
but having friends like you
is way better than changing yourself
to fit in with others
be authentic
be bold
be YOU

the horrors you committed against me
are egregious
that I find it hard to talk about
yet you swear high and low
that my accusations are calumny
you will lie about what you did
until the day you die
but I just wanted you to love me
and you felt lust instead
you were supposed to be my dad
now you are nothing to me
my new family believes me
and knows that your denials
are falsehood
you can swear up and down
that my accusations are calumny
but I know the truth

romantic relationships are so tantalizing
I crave romance
they don't have to be a prepossessing sight
just be kind and funny
hold me on my bad days
smile with me on my good days
treat me right
cuz I've never felt healthy love
I crave romantic love
but each time I receive it
it's toxic
or it slips through my fingers
like sand
they don't have to be a prepossessing sight
just love me for me

I think I need to write pages of malarkey
all jumbled up and confusing
everything in my brain onto paper
maybe this will cure my writers block
let the words come out garbled
and chaotic
until they flow out steadily

"you need me" the blade says
"I''ll make you feel good
just let me kiss your skin"
the blade says
last year I might have given in
or at least considered it's offer
I had this pain so heavy in my heart
weighing me down
it seemed like the only option
I turn my head away
and ignore the blade's plea
I will not break
I will not give in
my pain is no longer
I am free from it's chains
the shackles have broken off
my skin holds no wounds
they're not needed any longer

I used to love the sun on my skin
warming me from the outside in
then an aberration change happened
now it torments me
it rays bury deep
making me wobbly
and dizzy
making me tired
and nauseous
making my heart pound
and my mind into mush
the heat is my kryptonite
slowly draining me
once I'm in its grasp

I have all these words piling up in my brain
stacking up on each other
but I can't string them into words
and into coherent sentences
I have this urge to write write write
but alas, I can't
the words don't make sense
and as soon as an idea comes to me
it floats away
out of my reach
I can't find my passion
what I am I without my words
how can I be a poet
if I have no words