Confused soul.
A little sad, kind of bored,
still catching sparks in my head.

Twenties feel strange
especially twenty-five,
like I’m walking in shoes
that never really fit right.

Sometimes I wonder
why I think a guy could shift my world,
when most days,
I can’t even shift my mood.

It doesn’t make sense.
Maybe it’s not supposed to.
But who cares,
it’s not even realistic.

The feeling comes in waves:
quiet, weird, a bit silly.
Like I miss someone
I’ve never even met.

I’ve given myself
all the right speeches
be strong,
be your own person.
you don’t need anyone,
just live your life.

But then I think of him.
Whoever he is.
And it all feels soft
and silly again.

Like maybe I’d kiss him,
then laugh,
because it’s all so
embarrassing and human.

I ask the universe, softly,
show me the way.
Maybe I’m not lost,
or totally lost,
just letting
the quiet moments hold me.

Tank all your profiles,
Cause they're tightening a snare.
𝘞𝘩𝘰 are you identifying?
Are these my views?
Is that my perspective?
Is it 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘦?

Tank all your profiles,
Cause it's harder to get ******* physical than digital.
It's either a check or an x
To be marked onto your square.
A few fascists' dream
Is a legislative nightmare.

Wanna be pervasive on thoughts?
On carte blanche?
I'll give you a perverted stream
And force you to wade in it.

I'll tease you with wonder,
I'll keep from you the infinite.
Enjoy your *******?
Have another pile of manure!

There are things important to me,
That many people today will find silly,

This is one of those,
To be a writer,
To write great poetry,

To have that poetry read in classrooms,
To have it read in lecture halls,
That it will be read in fire lit living rooms,
That it will reach the ears of the youth,

----- ----- ----- -----

I find this important.

the rise of your chest  bellows and rest
the eyes of your investment   in me
the falling mane we form together
drapes
                                   into our milly pool
                              into our night attacks
     we act out civil villainy  and pranks
   we didn't mean to  but  we were spilt

   all the gutted sources of our majesty
bedroom headquarters and missions
   abroad from there  lead them to stare
our belly can hold all the resulting
                        birds of yellow vulgarity

they come to our door
                    with glowing phones raised
and we answer
         leaking behind our death-masks
they've chosen
                      to take us far too seriously
and may strike us down
                                             anti martyred
          alabaster heretics
                                laughing

I was searching for love! I was searching for long
In eyes, looking keenly at me,
In hands, touching upon me subtly,
In words, which were a trap foresee.

I was searching for rescue painfully long time
In those others and in yourself at all.
I pinned faith on all blindly and silly
That all of you were meant for me whole.

I was searching for the truth entirely honestly
In them, in you and in myself again.
And while I was searching for, I realized, that
The truth is there, where the calmness reins.

I handed myself at the mercy of the Night.
There's no fear and there's no shame.
I'll finish my useless searches here.
The Night is the calmness! This is proclaimed!