Like yin and yang,
Opposites attract,
The sadist and the *******,
Could attest to that.
Though their relationship was uncertain,
There was one fact,
He’d never raise a hand to her,
No, he’d never hit her back.

She let out all of her pain,
As she relished in his.
She hoped that he would fight back,
That was her one wish.

He cried out in pain,
As he took each of her kicks,
Feeling pleasure,
Though he was embarrassed to admit it.

The ******* had convinced his mind,
That he needed someone inside his life,
To break away his fleeting pride,
To break him down to where he wanted to die.
He never tried to run.
Why would he?
Who would be there to let his wife,
Blow off steam?
He took all of her blows,
Wiped the blood from his broken nose,
And deep down he knows,
He should get away, but he won’t.

She feels triumphant,
Her heart felt filled,
Laughing at the misery,
She never felt any guilt.
He hides his bruises,
Panting with relief,
As he covers his contusions,
Cursing the reprieve.

The sadist convinced her mind
That she just needed someone to hurt in her life,
Someone to satisfy,
Her parasitic urges before they killed her inside.
She never pushed him away.
Why would she?
Where would she let out her pain?
Who would bring her glee by hurting?
She punched and she beat,
Trying to blow off steam,
An attempt to retreat,
From the loss surrounding her feet.

One day, the sadist hit the *******,
After having beaten him around.
There was no scream, there was no cry,
Just a thump as he crashed onto the ground.
The sadist dropped the hammer,
And hid her mouth behind her hands,
Thinking she killed the love of her life.
The previous pleasure,
Faded to more pain,
As she cried and sobbed,
His blood left a nasty stain.

She called the police,
And turned herself in,
They took him away in an ambulance,
As she was in cuffs.
She felt no peace,
Her heart now broken,
Their fractured romance,
Was never enough.

But the ******* wasn’t dead,
And awoke months later in a hospital bed.
Paralyzed down from his neck,
He wouldn’t feel much of anything again.
While the sadist spent the rest of her days,
Locked in a cell, boiling with her pain.
She promised that if she ever got to see the light of day,
She’d go to the ******* and say,
How sorry she was, and she’d try to change.

Yin and yang,
Forever broken apart,
Though opposites may attract,
They can also shatter and leave scars.
The relationship,
Long gone,
But does anybody,
Win in the end?
No,
Nobody does.

When Fern replaced Jack,
There was no turning back.
It felt like an attack,
And then the friendship cracked.
As the people chose their factions,
And Jack found himself alone,
He came to the conclusion,
Breaking free from his delusion,
That the only person’s word that he could count on was his own.

It happened rather fast,
A single moment passed.
A new transfer student,
Felt that he needed to be included.
He didn’t want to be alone,
So he found the nearest friend group,
And hoped they’d take him as their own.

He walked to the group,
Who were trapped in their coops,
Scrolling through their tombs,
Not having anything to say.
Fern cleared his throat,
His anxiety was flying high.
As he stuttered,
“H-h-hi-hi.”

The group was surprised, someone new had bothered,
To approach them,
Especially someone so nervous.
They pondered,
What his ulterior motive was,
As they looked him up and down.
Fern frowned.
Were they judging him?
His hands shook,
As sweat trickled to the ground.
Eventually, Jack got up,
Took his hand and shook it.
“I’m Jack!”
The moment,
That Jack wished he could take back.

Freshman year went on,
And nothing consequential changed.
Fern grew closer to the group,
As life kept turning the pages,
Of their stories,
Growing closer to the heartbreaking ending.

Sophomore year began,
And Jack noticed that things felt off,
Not oppressive,
But enough that he wanted it to stop.
Fern brought another friend along,
And Jack found himself sitting alone,
Fern’s friend just seemed more interesting,
Than Jack ever was.
Jack’s friends used to talk to him,
Then they didn’t.
Jack figured out right away,
That this was how it felt to be replaced.

So Jack went out of his way,
To avoid his “friends” every day.
If they didn’t care,
He wouldn’t let it tear down his sails.
It hurt,
But he knew he’d heal.
He’d leave them behind,
Clawing at his heels.

When Fern replaced Jack,
There was no turning back.
It felt like an attack,
And then the friendship cracked.
As the people chose their factions,
And Jack found himself alone,
He came to the conclusion,
Breaking free from his delusion,
That the only person’s word that he could count on was his own,
And that was okay!

I have some penultimate words to say,
Some final thoughts to escape my brain,
So, for a final time,
I’ll give you a piece of my mind.

Sometimes the subtleties pass us by,
The simple things of daily life,
While we complain about the mundane,
We forget the blessings right in front of our eyes.
From the birds who sing in the trees,
To the blooming flowers, pollinated by the bees.
All of these,
Help us see how pretty life can be.

I’ve learned some lessons over this year,
Those lessons I’ll take to heart,
Like sometimes “friends” leave you behind,
And it’s okay to hurt, but not to break apart.
Most people follow the crowd,
And that’s fine with me,
I’ll follow my own path,
To be renowned.

I firmly believe that each life is a story,
One worth reading,
Good, bad, or ugly,
There’s a lesson to be learned,
And you can think critically,
As the pages are turned.
After all, no one wants to be forgotten,
Or perhaps, some do,
I find that a tragic fate,
True doom.

It’s time again,
To quote a song by Alec Benjamin,
This one being my favorite,
Titled “I’m Not A Cynic.”
“I’m not a cynic, but today’s just not my day,
I’ve tried to spin it about a thousand different ways,
But from every angle, oh, the outcome is the same,
I swear that I’m not a cynic; my glass just has no water in it today.”
This one holds dear to me,
Because sometimes my sky is gray,
That doesn’t mean I’m a downer,
It just depends on the day.
I know my mood is mine to control,
But faking is a poison.
It’s okay to let the emotions flow,
I find it a positive notion.

This year has been a journey,
Far more challenging than the last,
I started off in the clouds,
Now I’m stranded in the past.
Friends have moved on,
Or perhaps, I pushed them away.
Who knows who I’ll be,
Junior year, on the first day?
I know life is a bunch of doors,
But a problem arises,
If you’re not willing,
To take a step.
However, if everyone stood still,
Life would be rather boring,
Wouldn’t it?
So I’ll take a step onto the water,
Hoping I don’t fall through,
Praying I won’t fall through.
Then I’ll take another,
Perhaps, it’ll be easier,
Than the first.
Before I know it, I’ll be walking,
Then running, to sprinting,
Clinging desperately,
To anything that I can take with me.
I clasp my hands on the doorknob,
And open it with haste,
And step through with a smile,
Not regretting a thing.
Though bittersweet nostalgia,
Might try its best to blind,
I’ll make better memories,
To shield my watery eyes.
Years down the road,
Wherever I may be,
Hopefully I’d found,
Some sense of security.
I’ll look back with pride,
At my sixteen-year-old self,
And applaud my bravery,
To take the first step.

Near the end of April,
And sophomore year is nearly down the drain,
I think overall,
I’m in a better place.
Ups and downs littered the road,
But I swerved and curved,
And through these poems,
I lightened the load.
Another thing ends tonight,
Sitting here as I write,
The conclusion to the final,
The final piece of my mind.

Wherever the road may lead next,
No matter how far or how scary,
I’ll follow it and reflect,
And make it to my ending.

When all our friends faded away,
We stuck together.
I didn’t think it was okay,
The way they treated you.
Yet, here we are,
Feeling like deja vu,
Wondering why,
I stayed.

I try to be kind,
I try to be nice,
But judging by how you act,
I must be blind.
You make jokes,
And I laugh,
But we both know,
The facts.

I know my place,
So I’ll let you have your way.

I’ll be your punching bag,
What did I do to make you so mad?
I thought friends were supposed to have,
Each other's backs.
Is it bad,
That I like being your punching bag?

When you're desperate,
You take what you can get.
So when I have your attention,
I don’t complain.
Though you may berate me,
I’ll hold my head up high.
Because I’d rather have you,
Then be on my lonesome.

I understand my post,
We both know how this goes.

I’ll be your punching bag,
What did I do to make you so mad?
I thought friends were supposed to have,
Each other's backs.
Is it bad,
That I like being your punching bag?

Is this how friendship works?
You throw your friends to the dirt?

As we walked through the wood,
I found myself oddly stood,
Amidst my peers and fellow friends,
As we searched to find an end,
For we believed we could.

There was a fork in the road,
Two paths diverged, their end unknown.
My peers and friends took the right,
While I stood, paralyzed in fright,
Not knowing where to go.

As they walked down their trail,
I hoped and prayed that they’d prevail,
But feeling called to look around,
I focused on the ground,
And studied, and eventaully prevailed.

The one to the left,
Had been more unkempt.
The right was more ideal,
Even though they hurt their heels,
They charged forward without regret.

However, deep in my soul,
I felt called, the origin unknown,
To walk the path that no one dared,
Not necessarily because they were scared,
But because the right had been controlled.

So, gathering my wits,
I took a step, with no intention to quit,
And walked down the path to my left,
A warm feeling spreading in my chest,
A sense of pride, I must admit.

The road I travel on,
Not many dare to step upon,
But those who do are,
Chosen by the stars,
To walk the road I travel on.

Nearly midway through April,
Time doesn’t intend to move any slower.
A new chapter will soon begin,
When I’ve just gotten used to the one that I’m in.

I’m going through changes,
Yet, I still feel the same.
Can you even notice,
By my face?
I’m going through changes,
And it’s draining me.
I just hope that the mirror,
Doesn’t show someone I’ve never seen.

Life is building up,
Responsibilities are growing.
I am on the cusp,
And the exertion’s showing.

I don’t know where I’m going,
I feel like I’m lost.
I know that I’m growing,
But at what cost?
Childhood is dying,
Yet, I remain.
Am I really myself,
If everything’s changed?


Whether it be death,
Of family or a platonic friendship.
Never any rest,
Leaving behind relationships.

I hear change is normal,
But does that make it okay?
Constantly counting,
The fading days.
Ticking and ringing,
All around the clock,
Constantly begging,
For it to stop.

The discontement and resentment,
The words people misuse,
The friends people forget,
The love they abuse.

If I could press a button,
And pause it all.
I’d keep the world frozen,
Stop the spinning ball.
I’d enjoy the moment,
Forever slowed.
Perhaps then I’d get it,
And learn to cope.

If changes weren’t so scary,
Maybe I’d be less frantic,
Perhaps the soldier and the poet,
Would love more than they’d ever know.
The wolf and the sheep,
Bound eternally.
Perhaps the old cat lady,
Would’ve been seen more fondly.
The demons we often hide,
And my paradigm.
What happened,
With time?

I’m going through changes,
Yet, I still feel the same,
I just need some patience,
If that’s okay.
Let me catch my bearings,
And hold them close,
They’re all I remember,
From the times I love most.

It’s the crisis of connection,
Why the beggars feel forced to beg.
Why the little tree was hydrophobic,
And the alien searches for a suitable planet.

Pictures are all we,
Can do to protect,
The precious memories,
Our brain forgets.
As we look at the fragments,
Of the past,
Oh, how we long,
For those times to come back.

If I could change the world,
It’d be different, that’s for sure.
Perhaps these changes,
Wouldn’t feel so absurd.

I know hundreds have done this before,
Lived through life,
And walked through all the open doors,
Dodging the strife.
However, one thing,
I’m not sure you see,
Is that none of those millions of people,
Were me.

Fear starts to peak,
As routines reach their endings.
All too quickly,
Is this how it has to be?

I know growing older,
Is just part of the deal.
I just need a shoulder,
Someone to heal.
To let me take a break,
To pause,
But we can’t,
Perhaps peace is just a facade.

Am I worth hearing,
My biggest critic keeps asking,
Pieces of my mind fracturing,
As he just starts laughing.

I’m going through changes,
Yet, I still feel the same.
Can you help me?
Can you point the way?
There’s no need to worry,
Cause I guess I’m doing okay,
The sky’s the limit,
I just have to be brave,
And face these changes…

When I walked past the casket,
And I set down at my pew,
I tried to conjure memories,
That would remind me of you.
While others cried, I stayed silent,
Cursing myself for seemingly not feeling a thing,
And when we left the church,
Numbness remained.

You lived a good long life,
You saw a lot through your lifetime,
We may not have been related directly,
But you were a close friend of the family.
You’d been through more than I could imagine,
You were around well before I came around.

The person who preached,
Who summarized a life in a few paragraphs filled with sentences,
Said something that stood out to me.
“Eventually, they’ll come a day,
Where more people you know are beyond than down here.”
While that seemed to be a cause for celebration,
All I felt was existential fear.

I’ve lost a lot of those I loved.
My neighbors to the right,
And an uncle who tried,
And now I can add to the list a family friend.
Through each death,
Death held my hand,
His cold touch led the way to acceptance.
I can’t change what happened,
Can’t bring them back to leave a few more years for me,
Until I was satisfied,
Cause I know I’d never be satisfied.
Though, as I cried,
He traced his bony finger across my cheek,
Drying my tears before he left,
Leaving behind a few simple statements.
“The loss you feel is proof they mattered.
Don’t let their death add to your mental clatter.
You believe in a place beyond this mortal plane,
So why waste your tears when you know you’ll see them again?”
I laughed in his face.
“If only it was that easy, Death.”
I remarked with pain.
Yet, as he left,
I knew he was right,
Barbara,
We’ll meet again,
In due time.
Until then,
Take a look down here now and again,
I’ll know.
So,
Farewell for now.