Summer

Fuck It

Never can seem to get it right

I'm giving up on the fight

Fuck it

I’ll just live a poverty stricken life

I'm done with keeping up and steady

I'm not quite ready,

To just fuck it

And live a poverty stricken life

Still falling into the same rhyme,

When life gets frustrating and hard every friggin time

So fuck it

I’ll survive my poverty stricken life

I don’t like having things shoved down my throat

But I never opted for a different route so I’ll have to swim the moat

So fuck it

It’s almost too late to avoid a poverty stricken life

I’ll be rich on alcohol

And famous in my new home, the mall

Fuck this

I don’t want that drunk life

I won’t have to do math,

To know that I'm on a poor path

Fuck everything

I’ll have to survive my poverty stricken life

Get away, get away from me

Because you can stop me from sailing at sea

And sinking into fucking everyone like a real pirate

I’ll have a poverty stricken life with a good view

I’ll ignore all the bottles filled with lost hopes and dreams

Instead I’ll collect them in reams

Because fuck it

I’ll need a way to pass time in my pirate life A life without morals or a plan

I might be able to cheat my way out and find a clan,

Of others who decided to fuck it

And ended up living the poor life, in which everyone thinks you're an idiot

But I didn’t like their ways

And I was too stubborn to get through the tough days

Fuck it

I'm already living the poor life

I Am Slipping

I am slipping

Out of reach

And it’s freeing

But depression

Is slipping

Through the cracks

In my voice

My non binary

Voice of being

Gaily befuddled

I found myself

Laying on the floor

Staring at the ceiling

And that’s how I have conference meetings with depression

I want to

Be okay

With the present

But hold on a moment

I need to take

A call

A conference one

I want to feel real

Again

And I don’t know the next time I will  

I want to take a tired walk

To the kitchen

And smash a few

Plates

And fall

Into

A ghost’s arms

I cant always be my own hero

Super girl is only so good

I just might have to call up gut girl

Because she can at least stomach me at my worst

I feel behind in life

And its so hard

To not compare myself to others

Because maybe my life

Isn’t a highway

Like other people’s lives are

I’d much prefer to enjoy the view and stare at natural beauty

I don’t get

The constant rush

That society puts on us

Maybe that’s why I like to lay on the floor

And stare blankly at the ceiling

But then my thoughts start rolling like thunder

And the cycling begins…

Catch 22

I'm tired of this shell

And this name

And the world spinning

The problem is that I need to shatter myself

And it just seems impossible

Like an equation that I can’t figure out without being unstoppable

Problem is, the issues grow longer like this infestation of words

If only I knew the answer to the question of why?

Then I would have just another key,

That would lead to another empty chest

Because there’s none for me, nope not a pair

Except for emptiness like two pits of despair

Can’t you feel through your metallic layers?

I don’t like wannabe robots

Even if all you’ve done is make a helmet out of a kitchen strainer

Bee hives don’t dance for nothing, honey!

And I'm buzzing with kinetic energy,

With nowhere to go but this shell

Solved are not my problems,

Of being fucking stuck

Either way I'm seen as an evil little fucker

Stuck like cling wrap to this plastic world

Seemingly unavoidable in every imaginable possibility that I can think,

With my eyes held wide open I can’t even blink

In this torturous place I can’t live forever

Even if I can call it my own

Even if it’s here forever

My need to have this shell shattered is strong

I want to feel it shake and shatter

Hear it crack down like pitter, patter, smash

Shell, hell, what's the difference?

I like the fire in the devil that melts my cold heart

Because I'm tired of this invisible prison cell

Myself

The reason I may look like a party pooper or down

Is because when I used to walk up to people and tell them my name they would give me a frown

They wouldn't say anything so I would walk away

Then I would see them sneaking peaks at me and laughing, but someday...

I would go sit away from them on the concrete wall

Or I would get a basketball

And shoot hoops all by myself

I put my high hopes on a shelf

Sometimes when I would make a hoop someone would run up to me

And kick the ball away, then laugh at my plea

For peace

I was the one who tried hard with elbow grease

But now I just go sit there anyway

To save myself from all the pain

That's why I don't go up to people and tell them my name

I just always ended up ashamed

Ashamed to be me

Whatever I did they laughed at

Someday hopefully they will realize that

They were all the bitches

That should die in ditches

Sorry I just wish I could make them pay

And that still happens to me today

Even in high school

People think making fun of me is “cool”

Why are they so cruel?

I hate going there

Because most people don't care

And they say that there are only raggies in this town

I bet you don’t know that word, go look it up, the word raggie might be a noun

But I actually try and work hard

Even though I get scarred

Every time someone says that

It makes us all sound worse than rats

Whoever says that isn't even trying

They just like to see people crying

I'm shy

Because I don’t want cry

I'm done trying

Yellow Lines

Staring into the yellow lines

Trying to go with the flow

I cannot bring myself to look up at the pines

Delirious depression in this mechanical car is a light load Sitting next to one of my discombobulating demons

Unable to run or fight it

Inside I am scream'n

This makes me want to fuck shit Staring at the two yellow lines, I think...

About last year when I climbed the walls

I should take leaps for the fun of the falls

Onto the sun warmed tar I desire to sink Thinking about two people who give me hope

That is for whatever is next to come

I feel the slope,

That leads into my own personal slum

Two lines, two women who are fierce

How far will I get with the uneven yellows?

Bright yellow does pierce

Stuck like a baby in the backseat type of mellow What to do when I turn the stone of 18?

My enemy has me trapped and constantly, greedily coming back

I have to hold the slack

What do I even know? One thing is for certain

I will keep moving forwards

Hopefully I'll stick with my words

I will go wherever the yellow snakes take me, in order to see the man behind the curtain

You’ve Got Me Running These Loops

You’ve got me running these loops girl

Yeah running these loops

You’ve got me looking for a hole or an oops

Like magician’s rings

You like finding cracks in my writings on the wall

But you don’t lie to me and tell me that everything will be okay

Even if I'm screaming mayday

You are my Peter Gabriel sledgehammer,

As you skillfully knock down walls

With your golden retriever attitude

That possibly brightens my mood

Sometimes I feel your obnoxious positive vibe

But what you don’t know…

Is that I'd kill the king for your laugh

It seems like a fair trade for a mental photograph

That could soon be lost

Your smile lightens up the room

You make me feel like I can do anything with you by my side

You make me feel like I shouldn’t have any reasons to hide,

From you at least

I'm not afraid of all the king’s horses and all the king’s men

You believe that I could take them because I'm strong

And I know that we don’t have long

And I'm used to people coming and going

I've had years and years to get used to that,

The arms that I could die for

Could disappear and make it pour

That’s why you have to enjoy things now

While they last

And maybe that’s all she wrote for us

But we just have to trust

That our paths were only meant to be crossed

And maybe its better that we made an x out of each other

I won’t forget how you made me feel

As you tried to help me to heal

With your Potter spells, you powerful witch!

Boom!

Impending doom

Anticipating the "boom!"

I got sent the invitation

To sticky isolation

The deathly scent of flowers

Looking at the world alone at the top of the Eiffel Tower

A lonely gold filled casket

No more money in the basket

That money was wasted

Just imagine how bad that tasted

Every breath,

Is one closer to death

Then I feel insecure

In a crowd of people, doesn't matter what store

Anxiety still in the room

Sitting there waiting for the "boom!"

I try to hug the earth but all I do is hit the floor

It hurts but I go back for more

Sara, I can imagine you popping up out of nowhere

Depressing reality, but I still care

I can feel the wall of basses

The sickening sound of them not in their cases

Still feeling the arriving doom

Just around the loom

Then the crowd of violins start to rain

And the dark basses in my ears, they stain

The basses echo and rumble in my gut

Running from my problems, out of the room I rebely strut

I Want To Go Home

Trapped in my room that is myself,

Due to avoidance

Of

Feeling like and impostor in the house I live in

I know that I don’t belong

But I have nowhere else to go

I want to go home

But home is nothing more than a concept,

That I imagine in only my dreams

It’s hard to go home

When,

I haven’t discovered where home is

This is why I want to travel the world

When I'm out of school

And when I have enough money

I want to find a home

In someone's arms

Or I could find a home in my life

There is more than one way home

There are plenty of different roads

That will lead to destiny

So I'm going to keep calling everything home

Until it feels right

And only then I shall settle down

So take my bloated belly home

Because this house isn't working with the people living in it

Let's go home

A Letter To My Anxiety

Hey anxiety,

You make me feel overwhelmed

With my increased heartbeat

You make me feel like I just cant, because it would be too much for me

Too much for me to handle

You make me feel like I would drown if I jumped into the deep end

But…

I have some good friends

And I have some good music

And even though you can make me scared,

I realize that I'm stronger than I know

And if I just ride the roller coaster I can feel accomplished later on

Clay

Sometimes, if I like you

I'll let you mold a part of me or, thin out my walls

Sometimes, I feel young, energetic and naïve

But sometimes the weather forecast, forecasts colder weather

And I start to feel a little lethargic,

A little tired,

Maybe a little cracked

And trapped in this mold

Sometimes I grow harder, colder and more fragile

And sometimes my eyes seem to have a glazed coating

Because there are some tools out there

However tools don't get under my skin

If anything they get under my nails

I've got ribs and knives

So don't mess with me

Sometimes I'm as closed off as a clam,

With a secret,

Hidden pearl

Obviously I'm pretty imperfect

And I've become tired of finding a reason for

Being bent out of shape and having sharp edges

Edgy is my style

Because this is art

And anything ugly should not be held against the piece

And sometimes I have to let it go

Or just let it slip

Out of the grogginess of my tired head

Even if it leaves a shattered mess on the floor

Destruction is an art too

Like how angry painters have been known to throw paint at canvases

Fire me up

And I hope I won’t explode

With the unspoken air in my lungs