I used to say I know myself so I could judge myself
Now I am what I am

I am the centre of my own universe Instilled with alter egos that bring forth a pain that's hidden in a place where it  can not be found

Just like the moon a servant of this world but somewhere I am a tin god that brings light to someone dark path where no hope is found .

Emotions are rather complicated, I suppose
What is this irksome tickle in my heart?
It is not sadness, nor is it anger, or even grief
Not quite guilt or confliction
Perhaps a sort of blend of the two
It feels rather uncomfortable, like an itching inside
That is barely out of reach
Like a blur in the corner of my vision
But no matter how much I turn my head, I still can't see it clearly
This feeling seems to twist my stomach
And press on my heart
And pound in my mind
A constant pressure that can't be placed
I wonder if this puzzling emotion
Is something similar to emptiness
A hollowness that is unfamiliar
Sinking in a sea of scattered thoughts
Far too deep to retrieve now
And now
All I am left with
Is a perplexing feeling swirling everywhere inside me
A sort of apathy
That can't be named

it is so hard to know what you want,
what you're trying to say.
you're like a little bug with wings
that won't quit bumping into my eyes
and buzzing in my ear.
but a cute bug
one that reminds me of the ocean and summer camp and being in love.
i would put you a a mason jar
with holes in the top,
so you can breathe. (duh)
and i would take you to my favorite fields
and alleys and stores.
show you all the things that make me happy
and try to make you happy too.

but i dont think
you would like being in a jar.
even one with holes in the top.

This actual poet writes me silly poems.
He's there and I can't explain it.
A lifetime of experience and things lived I only imagine
and this actual, famous, poet writes me silly poems.

I wonder why me??  Why is he wasting time with me?
This sapient, hopelessly encouraging, ego-boosting poet
who writes me silly poems.

It's confusing.
My mind paints countless canvases of doubt,
like our connection is fragile tissue, perishable suds.
Surely one day I will find him bored and gone.
This actual, famous poet that writes me silly poems.

The girl never knew what love was...

She had only heard people falling in love...

But whether love was an abyss or a deep ocean to fall into...She could understand it not!
...

Yet when she gazed at the moon his smiling face was all she saw...

When she lazily strolled in her garden...In the hum of the bees she could but hear his excited voice...

And when she sat down to paint her favourite picture... Her hands always unknowingly drew a pair of dreamy eyes...

She couldn't fathom her restlessness on calm nights and her calm on stormy days...

The world she thought had gone mad...

But little did the naive girl know that it was her world that was being carved irrevocably with...

The shape of love!

He asked about me in the first meeting.
he was so curious to know the whole time, we were talking.
what should I tell, what should I hide?
my life is so confusing it never was a joyride.

being emotional, I end up hurting.
I am not the one who loves flirting.
believe in giving all or nothing
every time it's easy for me to trusting.

failed so many time yet not learning,
As soon as I become comfortable life starts turning.
got ditched so many times still friendly.
Always fall in Pitts more than deadly

Low in confidence, thinking negative.
serve myself for people to take benefit.
knowing yet not doing anything for the betterment
world is moving fast and talk about empowerment.

with all these flaws I still, love myself
those who cheat will pay themself.
I won't change, I never become you.
will always be loyal and to myself true.

I'm twisted inside.
My emotions are unstable;
And just like my emotions, my choices are also unstable.
It keeps going back and forth.
I'm twisted inside;
And don't know what to do.
It is very confusing.

In kindergarten we learn the alphabet,
We color and make terrible art,
And that sharing is caring.

In 1st grade we learned bigger words,
With the worst thing we had to worry about,
Was yet a simple spelling quiz on Friday.

In 5th grade we learn numbers are confusing,
And learn about the planet we live on,
We find out why the moon goes away.

In 6th grade we learn about morals and sorrows,
As we're quickly taught the horrors of our history,
Of all of the pain, torture and lost of life we caused.

Mater wouldn't bother if bother didn't mater so if you bother to mater then I will bother with you😊