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114 · May 2018
magic
aslan May 2018
isn't
it
just
magical
how
i
can
draw
with
silver
but
it
turns
out­
red?
**** my urges are so high
113 · May 2018
sunrise
aslan May 2018
the pinks and oranges of the early morning sunrise silence me
make my thoughts drift away in careful whispers
help me breathe
in and out
113 · Apr 2018
Chance.
aslan Apr 2018
I was sure
I had more of a chance
Than she did,

Especially considering
The glaring fact
That she’s, ya know,

STRAIGHT.
w h a t t h e h e l l
113 · Dec 2020
neverland
aslan Dec 2020
he was neverland.
his fingertips felt the way old books smell
his kisses tasted like a soft melody
and his eyes held his bitter truth
113 · Apr 2018
angel
aslan Apr 2018
my poetry makes you
sound like you’re a terrible
person, but really,
you’re just a fallen angel
trying to find your way back
home.
i m y o u r r o a d b l o c k
112 · May 2018
i fucked up
aslan May 2018
i'm sorry.
i ****** up.
112 · Nov 2021
12:26
aslan Nov 2021
every moment i've had with any of you
is a moment of borrowed time
and the books are overdue.
112 · Apr 2018
i am poetry now
aslan Apr 2018
You
Told
Me
You
Aren’t
Lying
To
Me
And
You’ve
Made
Me
Poetry
you've written poetry about me
112 · Apr 2018
i ship us
aslan Apr 2018
i
ship
us
together
so
****
hard
they
ship
us
too
we're my OTP, baby you and me, we'd be so ****
111 · Oct 2018
too good
aslan Oct 2018
if a relationship
seems "too good"
then it is a healthy one,
the one you're
supposed to be in.
111 · Apr 2018
Snow.
aslan Apr 2018
Snow, drifting on a cloudless night

The only light is that which reflects

From the stringed lights onto that snow

The air is crisp

A definite chill is in the air

Cardinals balance on icy branches

Fir trees rustle in the gentle breeze

I sit, and I ponder,

What is my purpose?

Am I really as rare and unique

As each and every snowflake?

Or are we all uniform,

Pretending to be something we are not

Simply to make ourselves

Feel better, filled with false security

Self-imposed confidence and

Haughty apprehension?

As I sit there

And stare at the children

Playing, running, singing

Wrapped in their tiny scarves

Small, mittened hands reaching

For their parent’s large, bare ones,

I wonder:

Is it our families who start to shape

The mold of our lives?
111 · Feb 2020
bound.
aslan Feb 2020
please, please, please
let me free
release these bindings
that tie down my wings
let me have the freedom
that i never got the chance to have
111 · Apr 2018
We are
aslan Apr 2018
I guess it's
officially official now.
That gives me such a rush
and it's hard to breathe.
We are.
That's amazing.
Yesterday,
during neurofeedback therapy,
my therapist,
he said your name
and I crashed
so quickly
your name
made my heart stop.
I don't know
where I'm going with this awful poem
but I am going.
And that's all that matters.
you're all that matters...
111 · Jul 2021
assisted suicide
aslan Jul 2021
there are countless stories
of how suicide affected the still-living,
the still-breathing,
the still-thriving.

there are countless truly selfish tales,
choruses of “please don’t do it”
but never is there a
“i understand, and i support you regardless.”

we talk about assisted suicides
in medicine, for the elderly
and the physically ill,
so why is it that my doctor

can’t write me an rx
for a premature leave of absence?
why is it that mental illness
is always seen as simply being overdramatic?

why is it that people understand
and accept the fact that physically ill people die
but they can’t accept the fact
that mentally ill people want to stop suffering as well?
i'm so tired.
111 · May 2018
you were
aslan May 2018
you were the grunge
the thick paints on a feeble canvas
the weightless smoke in a tense room
the stars in the night sky
you were anticipation
110 · Apr 2018
SICK
aslan Apr 2018
I
WILL
NEVER
GET
SICK
OF
YOU
NEVER EVER **
110 · Dec 2019
Tell me why
aslan Dec 2019
Tell me why you're so excited and willing to have a baby with her,
But the thought of raising a child with me disgusts you
Tell me why you open up to her, tell her everything,
But don't even look me in the eyes anymore.
Tell me why I used to see a long and healthy future with you,
But now all I can see is you slow dancing with her at a wedding I didn't show up to, not because it hurt too much but because you can't attend weddings from the grave.
****
110 · Apr 2018
Art.
aslan Apr 2018
I think

A date at the museum

Would be pointless

Because even near all of that art,

I’d still stare at you.

Because you are more beautiful

Than any masterpiece.

You are my masterpiece.
110 · May 2018
I need
aslan May 2018
I
NEED
TO
FEEL
THE
RUSH
OF
A
BLADE
AGAINST
MY
SKIN
BECAUSE
ALL
I
­AM
NOW
IS
NUMB
****
110 · Jul 2021
angel.
aslan Jul 2021
he is ethereal.

humans are made of stardust, this is fact, but they must be more stardust than human. he's likened often to an angel, despite his personality.

perhaps he is composed of the sun itself, fiery temperament contrasting the beauty painted across his skin with expertise. it's almost as if each and every inch of their skin shines, blinding most who dare approach.

i want to watch the way the stars dance in their eyes, like each star is a diamond sunk into the most divine and colourful resin that is his irises. i want to pluck the stars from the night sky and dust them across his blush, to give him freckles half as gorgeous as they himself is.

i want to take the big dipper and ladle the stars into his veins. he is my universe, they cradle me and care for me despite the fear he held before. i cherish him, and he cherishes me.

i am not worthy of breathing the same air as them; i am mere mortal while he is a deity amongst men. i am not worthy, yet he takes care and cradles me in their own arms as if i am everything i know him to be. if we were the greek gods, he would be aphrodite incarnate and i myself would be likened to hephaestus, though i am certain he remains loyal to our relationship.

he is the ambrosia that has the potential to poison me if i don't stop sipping, but that is a risk i am willing to take. he is every dream i've ever wanted to achieve, in fact, if i dreamed him up then they are the greatest dream i've ever had.

i truly hope that he never tires of me, for they are one of the few things i doubt i could ever live without. i find myself wondering sometimes how i made it so long without them, before i remember the person i used to be. he is a ceramist and i am a lump of fresh clay, and they continue to craft and craft and make me into a more complete version of what once was.

he has every chance to break me, to completely shatter me, yet he treats me like i am the most delicate object in the mortal plane of existence. he is so very gentle with me, as am i with them.
I would write this to him, if it were reciprocal. daydreaming is nice, sometimes.
110 · Apr 2018
Break.
aslan Apr 2018
You’re going to break me
But I’ll still love you,
Anyways.
This is such *******.
s h i t
110 · Jul 2019
disposable? no.
aslan Jul 2019
You miserable woman
you fight against your children
and their rights
their health
their safety

you laugh in their faces
you expect them to be adults
when all but one are minors

you expect them to pay for a house
and bills of many kinds
when there's one caring for his disabled fiance
one is sixteen

and the rest live with you
those three aren't able to work
so they're somewhat safe
for now

but your two eldest have been more
responsible and mature than you
for years
they had to grow up real quick

you never cared for them properly
you cheated on their dad
drove him deep into alcoholism

you moved out, leaving them
with their lush father
claiming abuse
yet you left them there

you finally came back for three of them
but they're at risk, too
you never take them to the doctor
they've never received necessary procedures

their father died of liver damage
because you abused him
mentally and emotionally for years

the state sent you a **** ton of money
that is meant for the children
yet you steal it from them
to buy your cigarettes
and ****** boxed wine

not to mention the constant trips
to the movie theater
where you spend at least 90 dollars each time

you refuse to get your youngest the care
he very obviously needs
because your ******* essential oils
and "good mojo"
are SO much ******* better
than therapy

*******
your kids aren't disposable
and neither am I
I'm not ******* going anywhere
her name's ******* deborah, of course
109 · Apr 2018
Cheap.
aslan Apr 2018
The way she smoked

Those cheap-*** cigarettes

That left a bitter taste in her mouth.

The fireball whiskey

That burnt her throat all the way down,

Those were the tastes of her lips

And the smell of her.

I loved those.

And now they’re gone.
109 · Apr 2018
hurts so bad
aslan Apr 2018
this
it hurts
so bad
i have no choice
but to leave
and i don’t want to
trust me
but I have to
please
promise me one thing
that you’ll do better
that in my honor,
in memory of me,
you will do better
because we both know
you are so much better
than this
i t h u r t s
109 · May 2018
ocean
aslan May 2018
you're the ocean
and i'm so desperate to
d
r
o
w
n
.
.
.
don't try to save me
109 · Jul 2021
language
aslan Jul 2021
if i could speak every language the same as you, i would breathe poetry into your veins.
i want to understand you, no matter how you feel.
aslan Jul 2019
I'm fragile. I know this, you know this, the homeless guy we pass on the way home from using our stupid food stamps knows this. He knows because he's seen me cry after glancing at him. I cry because I've been in his shoes, and I know how heartbreaking it is to see car after car drive by and nobody stops to offer you help. I've told him that I wish we could help more, when we bought him a muscle milk and some jerky at the gas station. We were broke, less than 50 dollars in our account. But we still had to get him something, because it hurt so much to see him smile at everyone just for them to speed pass.
I'm fragile. I am but a bubble, waiting to pop at any given moment. waiting on a needle or a finger to take a stab at me. Waiting on the curious being with no malicious intent to stare a little too long, and to point at me excitedly. When they do, I wobble, so close to bursting. Sometimes I do, in fact, shatter, as if I weren't really a liquid bubble but a solid one blown from glass. When I splinter, words fly and storm the pages with black ink spills and red tears and vast empty spaces. I scream until I can't scream any longer. I sob and pick up some of the pieces of me, just to scratch my surface and colour that glass scarlet. I have no desire to make you drip red with me.
But I think maybe I need to really break, to be ground into a million tiny pieces, with all the screaming and sobbing attached, so we can begin again. So my emotions can be raw and visceral and intense. So maybe the doctors and therapists who are trying to slowly peel back layers, just to be met with solid resistance of a complete wreckage, can slowly provide ME with the tools to piece myself back together again. Because back then, I know you were terrified. You were paralyzed with fear when I wrote that letter, the one apologizing profusely to you. You were stopped completely as you saw me writhing through that first disassociative panic attack. You snapped to and held me down, because the thought of seeing me hurt myself was too jarring for you to just sit back and watch. But there were also so many amazing things. We both felt more in love than we do when we fight and yell and let ugly words paint our skin and the spaces between us. You used to brush your lips on the back of my knuckles, humming the tune of our song and smiling each and every time I spared a glance in your direction. We went on long, nonsensical drives, watching the sun set and feeling the fresh air whip our hair around. We used to laugh and pelt each other with cheez-its when we had the TV locked in the closet where we slept. we had a fire going in the somehow still functional fireplace.
But with the first of the year, it seemed like we started getting small fractures in the previously bulletproof glass that was our relationship. We were unbreakable, but now pieces keep chipping off and we're so close to shattering beyond repair. Those thoughts keep returning, the ones that led me to write that ****** letter in the first place. I never wanted to hurt you. But now it feels like I get some satisfaction. I'm sick. Not just physically, but mentally as well. I need to shatter again, to get back to that point so we can heal together, heal anew. To hit that ******* restart button. To go back to step one. Maybe we shouldn't have proposed to each other so soon. But I know I can never give this ring back to you. i take it off sometimes when we argue, but I always go back to it. I need it to feel whole and centered. I need it to be okay. I feel disgusting even taking it off to cook, or shower, or to do the ****** dishes. I can't lose you. And that's why I'm writing this. I need you to understand that I need to fragment. WE need me to do so. It's for you, for us, for me. I need you to understand this. It's not a new thought. It's one I've been stewing over for seven months. Please don't be mad at me. Please try to understand. But part of recovery is relapse. I haven't done anything, but I feel every day more and more like I'm shutting down. I constantly feel like I'm running out of battery. I need to refresh before school starts again. I don't know how it's going to happen or what I'm going to do. But please, please try to understand.
I love you.
****
108 · Apr 2018
Anxiety.
aslan Apr 2018
I can’t breathe

*******

Help me

Save me

Why

Why me?

I just want to die

But I also want to be saved

Anxiety does that

Makes you want to disappear

But live at the same time

They say it can be healthy

But they also say it’s a

(ahem)

Disorder.

Am I crazy?

Try this

they tell me

just breathe

you’re okay

you’re not going to die

Yeah? BUT WHAT IF I DO?!

Just…

Please.

Leave me be.

I’m sorry.

I’m horrible.

Please.

Just go.
108 · Apr 2018
tell me
aslan Apr 2018
I
WANT
NO,
I NEED
TO KNOW
ARE WE?
OR WAS IT JUST SOMETHING
THAT YOU SAID
TO MAKE ME FEEL BETTER?
PLEASE
JUST TELL ME
"I LOVE YOU AS MUCH AS I LOVE NUTELLA--
WELL, ALMOST."
-TROYE SIVAN
108 · Apr 2018
Who I am.
aslan Apr 2018
I am…



Chinese food and sushi, cottage cheese and frozen cocoa;



Skinny jeans and high-tops, hoodies, beanies and makeup;



Animal rescue, cats, dogs, birds, rabbits, and other wildlife;



My own person, individual and original, expressive and human;



Fluffy comforters, fuzzy socks, pillows and stuffed animals;



A best friend, shy but eccentric when you get to know me;



A large book, with actual pages and not the swiping of screens and big, chunky glasses;



Classical and Motown, pop and dubstep, rock and metal, opera and indie;



Earphones, laptops, coffee and warm blankets;



Rainy days, foggy mornings, snow falling softly and crisp leaves descending from the trees above;



Tears, angst, pain, self-consciousness, and anxiousness;



The colors black and red, silver and gold, grey and bronze, green and purple;



Not a child, scared for the future, not ready to leave high school;



Dodge trucks, Model T’s, Mustangs, Hummers, and Jeeps;



A student in high school, a senior, a chief;



Quotes and lyrics, poetry and words;



A dreamer, often heartbroken, caring, compassionate, a troublemaker;



Sunglasses and ripped flip-flops, swimsuits, and sunscreen;



Fingerless gloves and jackets, boots and leggings;



Chocolate and ice cream, pizza and root beer;



Roses and geraniums, petunias and lilies;



Christmas lights, smooth jazz, comfy couches, fluffy pillows, photography;



Just like everyone else but nothing like them, obstinate, a rebel;



Garage sales, thrift stores, flea markets, and savvy spending;



Late nights and TV, Starbucks and musicals;



Fall and winter, sweaters and cocoa;



Bonfires, smores, shorts and Glacier Cherry Gatorade;



Vanilla and cinnamon, Irish Spring body wash and the smell of cigarettes;



Old Spice, Axe, ***, and musk;



Always there for people when they most need me;



Not perfect by any means;



Not math or science, algebra or astronomy;



Not easy to get to know yet an open book;



Not crafty but love art;



Definitely not a model but love showing off new clothes and designs;



Not the best listener to instructions, but knows lyrics to so many songs;



I am Olli, a human being.



I am me.
aslan Jul 2019
the tap dancers in my skull
swing to different tunes
each of them grabbing a different piece
and yanking, pulling, breaking
making my head feel ready to explode.
the pins and needles I used to feel
in my kneecaps
has now become a battalion
of trauma-ridden soldiers
shooting small brown kids
and feeling something
in the empty shell of what once was.
the hammering in my spine
is now a fleet of construction workers
and heavy machinery
operated by 400-pound muscled men.
My body has gone
from somewhat sturdy
to a fragile work of glass-blown bubbles
ready to burst.
I use a wheelchair
to prevent my inevitable dizziness
and knee buckles
that send me toppling to the floor.
I take managed medication
for a cacophony of mental health issues
not to mention
the obvious, glaring physical ones
but according to the
American healthcare system
I'm "just not disabled enough"
and I must find a job
even though
nobody will hire me.
**** the American healthcare system. I'm 19 years old and rotting away. This is *******. They don't care if I ******* die.
107 · Apr 2018
LET ME BE
aslan Apr 2018
LET ME BE THE ANTIDEPRESSANTS YOU NEED EVERYDAY
LET ME BE THE REASON BEHIND YOUR SMILE
LET ME BE THE BANDAID YOU PUT ON YOUR THOUGHTS
LET ME BE THE ONE TO STOP YOUR ANXIETY
LET ME BE THE ONE TO MAKE YOU FEEL BETTER
LET ME BE YOURS
LET ME LOVE YOU
107 · Dec 2020
confidence
aslan Dec 2020
this air of confidence
i have
is carefully constructed
of nothing more
than toothpicks and marshmallows
and it has been left to melt
in the window of my fourth-grade classroom
destined to crumble and melt away
if it manages to survive
the threat of being crushed
106 · Jul 2019
don't you see
aslan Jul 2019
Why? Why do you think that it is extremely necessary to do this every single Friday, without fail? And then to call ME a *****, to say I’m a ***** every day without fail? NO. I put myself through pain, physical and mental, just to try and make you happy. But you don’t see that. You let me sit here, crying, pain radiating from my back and knees. You see a nuisance, a bother, when I have to use my wheelchair. You resent it, and me. You resent me for needing a device to help me function. You resent me for not having a job, for going to school. You fail to see that I’m going to school to get a well-paying job. I’m trying, so hard, to get a job or my SSDI payments reinstated.

I got good news today. It was my new birth certificate. But you didn’t care. I was so, so happy. My eyes were lit like firecrackers on the fourth of July. You didn’t care though. You were just ****** that I woke you up. I asked you nicely, while still ecstatic, if we could go get my new license. You missed the turn and got mad at me. I saw the anger boiling in your eyes. I guess I wasn’t watching them long enough to prolong the overflow.

We went to the store because I needed strawberries and deodorant. I got an automated cart because my body is in constant agony. You didn’t care. You were annoyed because it is too slow for your liking. It died while rolling through the store, at the same exact place as last time. But you didn’t care. You snapped at me instead, demanding I just “**** it up and walk”.

You gave me this ring nine months ago with a promise. A promise you would always be here for me. A promise that you would stay by my side, in sickness and in health. I don’t think you expected the sickness to come quite so soon, though. I think it took you aback and now you’re scared to lose me like you lost him. Suddenly, and painfully.

Don’t you see? The only way you’ll be losing me is if you want me to leave. I won’t leave until you say the words dismissing me. I don’t think your actions are already telling me you want me gone. I hope you come to realize why you are feeling like this. I hope you can understand that most of your anger is just the current state of grief. You lost him a little over a year ago, after all.
106 · Sep 2019
friends?
aslan Sep 2019
I have fallen and gotten hurt
like a child scraping their knees on the hot summer pavement
but my hurt was not only physical
but also emotional

you said something to me a few nights ago
before I relapsed, stupidly
even with everything piling on,
you still opened your stupid mouth and said the stupid words

maybe we should have just stayed friends
i guess we should have, huh
106 · May 2018
pastels
aslan May 2018
and i stare into the pastels
of the early morning sky
and all i see
is unrequited love.
what is happening
106 · Aug 2021
beauty
aslan Aug 2021
being in love with someone
who loves you back
can make you feel more beautiful
than almost anything.

something about this magnificent person,
who is your whole world,
viewing you in the same way you view them?

if i see you as ethereal,
my angel,
then how do you see me?

i don't think i could ever view myself as beautiful
on my own
but you make me feel more
tolerable towards myself,
and that's a feat in and of itself.

thank you for existing the way you do.
i'm so in love with you it hurts.
106 · Apr 2018
HEARTBEAT
aslan Apr 2018
WHEN I THINK OF YOU
I EITHER HAVE NO HEARTBEAT AT ALL
OR IT QUICKENS TO IMPOSSIBLE SPEEDS
WHY DO YOU DO THIS TO ME?
106 · Dec 2020
god complex
aslan Dec 2020
each and every word of praise
sends smoke signals to my brain
confirming what i've long known
that i am god
and i could **** god
if i so desired
but really
this god complex of mine
is to hide the thousands of insecurities
i pick at from time to time
106 · Apr 2018
i hope
aslan Apr 2018
is it bad
that i hope
you don’t find
any of these
because they are too much
i read them
and i realise
how i sound
*******
these are horrible
i want you to know how i feel
but this is too much
too soon
**
106 · Dec 2020
real
aslan Dec 2020
sometimes i wonder
if i myself am real
which leads me to think
are any of you?
what's to say
that this isn't some elaborate dream?
all i'm sure of
is that if you aren't real
you surely are the best thing i've ever dreamed up.
105 · Apr 2018
problem?
aslan Apr 2018
yeah,
i love you.
is that a problem?
because these people
don’t seem to think so
they think it’s perfect
and adorable
so if you’ve got a problem
with it,
sorry,
but idfc.
**
105 · Apr 2018
giving up
aslan Apr 2018
I told you I’d try
But I’m already so close
To giving up
Not on you,
But on
myself
i don't want to lose you but i'm lost already
aslan Dec 2020
you promised me forever
and yet you left me
just like everyone else does
like they always have
like they always will
105 · May 2018
rantipole
aslan May 2018
he smiles
as if
he's a bit
rantipole
back on the aesthetics
105 · May 2018
smile
aslan May 2018
IF
I
DIE
WILL
IT
MAKE
YOU
SMILE?
BECAUSE
TRUST
ME
HONEY,
IT'S
WOR­TH
IT.
JUST BE HONEST
105 · Apr 2018
Autumn.
aslan Apr 2018
Pumpkin Spice Lattes from the coffee shop down the corner

Warm, cozy sweaters

Old Polaroid cameras

Crisp leaves crunching beneath your feet.

It’s your first semester at college

And you’re ready to take on the world.

You’ve got this.

Nobody will ever know your past

Unless you let them in.
105 · Apr 2018
stars
aslan Apr 2018
You think the stars are beautiful
But I say
They can never compare
To you
you are the sky
104 · Apr 2018
forget me
aslan Apr 2018
I’m easy to forget
So I don’t blame you
If you never think of me again
Just know
As I leave
That I really do
Love
you
p l e a s e d o n t f o r g e t m e
103 · Apr 2018
SELF-HATE
aslan Apr 2018
I
HATE
MYSELF
SO
MUCH
THAT
I’M
FALLING
TO
PIECES
WITH
THE
THOUGHT
OF
IT
I JUST HATE MYSELF SO ******* MUCH
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