10. 5am in my bedroom

sweet boy’s been
outta album mode
for a minute and
now he’s gotta go
shed it, all of the
world’s hesitant,
but the game’s
just fucked up,
the people that
i used to trust
are starting to
fall off, crumble,
fake-ass christian
out taking the piss
when he exposes
his homophobia,
thinks he’s out
spreading some
word of God when
he’s using a book
as his shield to go
hate the world, he
keeps sinning, chill
the hell out, ya dig?
and suddenly, that
just hit me like bing!
i heard he’s at a new
institute now, shame
the higher-ups went
apologist for a rapist
who can’t own up to
his shit, but can win
the running man on
instagram when he
can’t respond cause
things aren’t to plan.
speaking of a man,
what about the one
that didn’t like me
but kept sliding on
into my dms even
when reminded
he was a minor?
or the one at 30
messaging me at
4 in the morning
when he’s horny?
no disrespect, i’m
flattered but i’m
sending shots at
anyone in range,
go pick a name.
even get petty
and bring it to
’16 when she
used me and
said your boy
was aggressive,
unapproachable,
when she was the
one yelling at me
over some fries.
true story, too,
a motel room,
never was the
same after that,
peer-pressured me
into my first drink,
then left me to dry,
she mentally killed
and hardened me,
lost all my ability to
call one trustworthy,
even though she said
she’d love me forever.
fakes get exposed, so
thanks for nothing to
the lot of you, hope
you grow to become
the people you like to
pretend to be, and get
real one of these days.

good luck, you need it.

9. don't hurt my friends

i’ve said it before
but i’ll yell it again,
don’t you fucking
dare hurt my friends.
you hurt me when
you fuck with them,
and i’m not gonna
sit quiet and let you
fuck with their heads.
they might be afraid
to put you on blast,
but i’m not letting
your bad shit slip
and slide on by.

i won’t tell you shit
you want to hear, i’m
saying the things you
need to be told, don’t
know how the fuck you
get your kicks tricking
into thinking that you’re
sick, prick, you’re gonna
be a bitch to my friend,
mess with a head, act
like you’re terminally ill.
don’t wanna make some
mountain out of a molehill,
but get your shit together
and learn how to be real.

and this goes out
to anyone, told you
“don’t push a writer,”
hurt them, i’m hit, too,
and i’m not letting them
feel like an idiot because
you pulled some bullshit.
i’m a sweet boy, but i’m
resilient with my words,
expose anyone that tries
to play my friends for fools,
so don’t even bother with it.

don’t want the smoke?
don’t hurt my friends.

8. work

all of them saying
“he doesn’t work,”
but even late sleep
won’t stop the grind.
i don’t have a job but
i’m the hardest-worker
the game’s ever had,
i put it all on the line,
bare it all every time,
i’m not afraid to brag,
look at all i’ve earned
even before my prime.

all the rappers talk about
making some freshman list,
and here i am with the dean,
a superhero writer that rivals
batman in numbers, and all
the while, it’s vital that i’m
managing two channels on
the tube, i’m doing a lot for
someone so young, and for
whoever says i’m lazy, i’m
not naming but i’m 20 and
i inspire over twice my age.

it’s easy to kiss my feet if it
means a house on the beach,
but i don’t do it for the clout,
i do it for the love, and i’d like
to meet a more passionate
poet, not to pick a fight, but
to put in this work, and make
the writing the world wants.
prove wrong those who say
we’re lazy, do things others
wish they were capable of,
and make them wanna be us.

i bet they already do.

7. cheers to the rejects

cheers to those that
suffered in silence
because the world
didn’t accept them,
the ones that had to
pave their own way
because everyone
thought they were
not worth the time,
and felt they could
only be classified
in just one word:

rejects.

cheers to the ones
that never fit in, and
had to be picked on
because they didn’t
conform to others.
the ones that were
individuals, making
their own choices,
and living life in the
way that they chose,
even if everyone just
spoke down on them.

rejects.

cheers to the people
that never felt right,
and thought they all
weren’t worth time,
but kept up the fight,
knew one day that
life would be nice,
pushed through the
pain and made light
that’d always shine.

cheers to the rejects.

6. pain is solace

pain can be solace.
probably sounds weird,
but the pain helps me,
it always reminds me
to take care of myself,
to relax my mind, and
just rest up for later.
it’s through the pain
that i search away
for solace, so as to
keep myself solid.

pain brings me to
take my own time,
watch funny videos,
focus on my craft,
and create an air
that is peaceful,
calming and quiet.
it serves as a test
to see how well i
can mellow out,
and focus on the
great things that
life offers to me.

it’s through my pain
that i create comfort,
deep breathing and
mental relaxation just
take over my day, and
put me in a good state.
it might hurt me, but the
pain reminds me to go
easy on myself and take
life in some small doses.
step away from stress,
from the social battles
and from others, and
enjoy the presence of
me, myself and only i.

sometimes, pain isn’t all bad.

just need to find the good parts.

5. i'm worthless, it's great

you ever feel worthless?

yeah, me too! it’s great!

you just spend all of
your days feeling like
you need to isolate,
because the world
only seems to care
when it serves to
help benefit them.
they only help you
when they feel like
you can give them
a reward for effort.

it’s so lovely!

at least for a second,
you feel like they care,
you feel wanted for a
brief bit of time, and you
think you have people
that like your spirit, but
then they’ll crush it once
you give them the thing
they needed from you.
a momentary joy, like
a piece of penny candy,
yummy but disposable.

but at least you were yummy!

at least for that moment,
someone got a taste of you,
perhaps they really liked it,
but just never realized that,
because they had a heart
as black as night, and won’t
stick around to know you,
but even if you’re a piece
of penny candy, at least
you’re the one somebody
picked out of the crowd.

“ed, your story’s gettin’ weird.”

4. never change

you always hear them
saying not to change,
but they don’t know
i’m always changing.
you just never realize
the battles that go on
behind these scenes,
when the phones are
down and the world
doesn’t capture me.
you don’t see what
happens inside that
changes every day.

the last year made
me more cynical,
but also made me
gentler as well, it
made me doubt
love, pushed me
away from God,
it took some trust
away from me, it
made me feel like
i belonged, but it
had me feeling i
was out of place
at the same time.

everything was a
whirlwind, and it
also changed me,
even though i was
told not to change.
i’m still me, but i’m
a different me, and
yeah, i do like this
new me, but i also
don’t like things,
and i wish i could
fix them, but i guess
i should never change.

my mind is strange.

3. being strong is hard

it’s hard when the
world’s always on
about how you’ve
gotta be strong,
when all that you
wanna do is cry.
you wanna break,
just for a minute,
let all the feelings
and the emotions
come flowing out,
but the world says
that you shouldn’t.

they say “hey, man,
stay strong, you’re
not supposed to let
that emotion show.”
brave and unafraid?
so you’re saying that
i should put on a face?
what if i’m tired of it?
pretending i’m strong
and acting like i’m so
desensitized to it all,
when i sit in my room,
lost in thought over the
stress the world places
on my small shoulders?

my anxiety gets the best
of me, and it hurts when
i’m told to grow a pair,
shake it off and act like
i just don’t care, when
i’m dying on the inside.
i even get told i won’t
make it in the world if
i act as sensitive as i
do today, heart races
even thinking about it.
it’s just who i am, and
it’s hard to change it,
especially when it gets
thrown at me like this.

i want a break from the fear.

2. nightcrawler

sleepless night, as
it crawls above me
along my ceiling, i
try closing my eyes,
but the click-clack
of the footsteps is
keeping ‘em open
wide as i lay here.
paranoia sets in,
since i previously
had your friend
crawl on my leg,
two others dead,
but you’re playing
hard-to-get, i see.

i just want to sleep,
scaring me and as
i try to keep myself
from tightening up,
but i can’t relax and
my mind’s just stuck
in this sad worry that
you’ll fall through and
land atop my body, i’ll
wake up to you, jump
but not for joy, all the
daylights gone and my
shakes kick in, petrified.

you guys really like
to mess with me, huh?
despite the discomfort,
you desperately try and
distract me, freak me out,
just fuck up my flow and
positive place i’ve put my
passion into, is it payback?
bad position, leaves me here
puzzled and always pondering.

how did you even get up there?

1. restart

looks like i’m back
in album mode now.
weeks on end where
i’m trying to make a
concept come to life,
only to realize that it
just may not be right.
idea i don’t quite like,
no amount of time can
help to make it tight.

nothing wrong with a
back-to-basics project.
some might even look
and think these were
starting to get weird,
but i keep giving out
the poems they want.
the game isn’t right
when i’m not around,
dropping a new album.

too much going on now,
i gotta let this all fly out,
king’s gotta address and
there’ll be a lot to digest.
sweet boy wasn’t gone
but i bet something was
starting to give without
a new full set, so let’s go
take this to the press and
keep giving them my best.

20.

20 preface

this one’s special. my 20th full-length poetry album is aptly titled “20.” for one, because it’s my 20th album, but two, because it’s about my experiences being 20 years old. now that i’ve been 20 for half a year, this album talks about what it’s like. and where most of my poems discuss my thoughts, this album focuses more on experiences. hope you guys enjoy it!

1. restart

2. nightcrawler

3. being strong is hard

4. never change

5. i’m worthless, it’s great

6. pain is solace

7. cheers to the rejects

8. work

9. don’t hurt my friends

10. 5am in my bedroom

to the brokenhearted

we’ve all been where
you’re at right now,
love plays its tricks
and gets sick kicks
out of our sadness,
and it hurts when
this world works
against us, and
faults us for the
feelings of love
we foster for a
person that’ll
only pain us.

it makes us feel like
we’re worthless, and
dumb for thinking that
love with this one was
a plausible option, and
we break down, change
the way we act, harden
and fear that we’ll never
bounce back from all this.
don’t know if we can even
get the feeling back again.

i know what it’s like.

it’s painful, but
it’ll pass one day,
a positive will pop
past the madness,
and you’ll push on
and prosper longer.
you’ll look back and
remember, but you’ll
see how much better
you are than that one.
you’ll have a shoulder
to cry on for now, but
i promise you’ll soon
find the beauty and
joy trapped behind
life’s darkest skies.

just keep your head up.

nightmare

all the lights out,
not a sound in my
room as i lay down,
wrapped in blankets,
but just as i drift off,
a noise downstairs.
the front door opens,
i swore i locked up,
who just came in?
how’d they open it?

i’m dying to check,
but paralysis hits,
i’m covered in fear,
dripping in paranoia,
the stairs creak as
they come upstairs.
i close my eyes as
they walk over here.
my door creaks open,
i peak, and he’s there.

a menacing grin and a
knife in his hand, i try to
pinch my arm in hopes
that i wake myself, but
it’s to no avail, and the
man doesn’t move to
where i lay, instead he
stands and stares with
a smile, scaring me to
stay awake in this space.

there’s no waking
from this nightmare.

walking in the rain

the night falls and
as i walk on my way,
rain pours on down,
drenching me in its
sad, cold embrace.
just this jacket here,
no umbrella to help
keep me dry, and as
the water splashes,
pours onto my face,
hands are ice blocks,
phone’s dead and i’m
out here on my own.

the streets are barren,
everyone already home,
comfortable, wrapped in
the blankets, all warmed up,
perhaps in one’s arms, as
they lay in comfort, away
from the blackening night.
meanwhile, i move down
these streets, empty and
alone in my thoughts, can’t
call anyone, i just wander.
where does the lonely lane
lead me to this late? light?

seems there’s none.
just the memories of
when i roamed with
reason, when i was
returning from real,
wonderful moments.
but it’s all in the past,
never getting it back,
so i trudge forward,
searching for solace
in a world that takes
the ones that i love,
makes them figments
of a lost imagination.

it’s really cold.

i wrote this poem a year ago for a facebook/instagram caption

i’m not one
to be left alone.
stranded in my thoughts,
no one to share with,
just the silence
around me
and the madness
of the world,
as the fear
purges my brain.
my discomfort grows,
and all i can think of
is your face,
and i start to wonder,
“where did things go wrong?
you were all i needed,
but i let you walk away
and i haven’t been the same since.
how did i lose you?
and how did i lose
myself?”
the thoughts never die,
do they...

cared

i miss the days when you cared.

the days where
you wanted me,
where i felt like i
meant something.
where i slept well
at night knowing
i’d have you here
to always talk to,
never leaving me,
even when you’d
mess with me, i’d
feel so happy and
joyful about it all.

but i didn’t show
that off the way
i should’ve and
“finally,” you’ve
found one better
person to have
around you, and
now i’m just the
faded memories,
i’ve become that
“coulda, woulda,
shoulda” kinda
guy in your life.

and sleeping here
at night doesn’t
feel right since i
only have you in
my sight, can’t
stop thinking of
your eyes, or the
smile so bright.
trying not to cry
but it’s hard and
i can’t sleep now
since it’s only you
i see in my dreams,
and i’m repeating it
but it’s all i think of.

i hate this feeling.

10. i miss you

i miss you.

why did you go?

where are you?

why did you leave?

are you okay?

why did you change?

where did things go wrong?

can they become better?

is there a fix to this?

do you think about me?

do you want me?

what happened to you?

why do you hate me?

did i hurt you?

can i heal you?

can i make things better?

can i try again?

can we go back to before?

can life not be cruel to us?

can we talk about this?

i miss you.

9. memes are art

memes are art.

memes are moments.

memes are important.

memes create lots of
attention for artists.

memes represent the
culture we partake in.

memes make money.

memes are landmarks.

memes give power.

memes make some
people look smarter.

memes can make
people famous.

memes make bad
people look good.

memes make us
talk about people,
even if we don’t
really want to.

memes are loopholes.

memes are immoral.

memes are evil.

memes are amazing.

memes are art.

8. i like attention

i like attention.

it makes me feel good.

it makes me feel validated.

it feels better hearing
a compliment from a
person other than me.

i don’t feel successful
if others don’t give me
attention for my work.

i only post things to
get likes from others.

attention drives all
the things that i do.

liking, commenting,
and subscribing is
the most important
part of the internet.

life doesn’t matter if
i don’t get any likes.

i’m willing to lie if it
gets me more likes.

i live a life of lies,
but i love the likes.

likes are the best thing
anyone could give me.

i like attention.

7. the world scares me

the world scares me.

people are really mean.

people hurt my feelings.

people hurt others, too.

they like to shoot guns and
take the lives of other people.

why do i hear all these
rap songs today about
people shooting guns?

they don’t really wanna
shoot people, do they?

why do they do that?

why do they say that?

it sounds dangerous.

why is there shooting?

why are some places not
safe to go to anymore?

can i go to school?

can i go to a concert?

can i go play video games?

can i go home?

the world scares me.

6. feelings are fickle

feelings are fickle.

one day, i’m happy.

one day, i’m sad.

one day, i’m elated.

one day, i’m angry.

one day, i want to go out.

one day, i want to stay in.

one day, i love myself.

one day, i hate myself.

one day, i’m thankful for my friends.

one day, i feel like i have no friends.

one day, it’s sunny.

one day, it’s rainy.

one day, it’s comfy.

one day, it’s chilly.

one day, we celebrate.

one day, we just hate.

one day, the world hugs you.

one day, the world hurts you.

one day, you live.

one day, you die.

feelings are fickle.

5. this is an interlude

this is an interlude.

it comes in the middle.

it’s a time to go
get some snacks.

it’s a time to go
take a little break.

artists need breaks.

artists deserve love.

artists get pushed over.

artists need to live.

artists need positivity.

breaks are positive.

letting an artist go
take a break is good
for their mentality.

if you’re an artist,
you deserve a break.

go enjoy your break.

this is an interlude.

4. 18 is strange

18 is strange.

you’re grown,
but you’re not.

you’re sweet, but
you’re also cynical.

you graduated,
but you didn’t.

you go to work,
but you don’t.

you life your life, but
still try and figure out
what you’re even doing.

are you even an adult?

are you still a kid?

what do you do next?

where did your friends go?

do they still like you?

why do we move on
so quickly at that age?

will i see them again?

so many questions
get thrown at you.

18 is strange.

3. love is infinite

love is infinite.

love exists all around
our entire human world.

love makes us do things
that we normally wouldn’t.

love makes us feel
comfortable and
happy with our lives.

love creates moments
that aren’t repeatable.

love changes the air
and the way we feel.

love damages us and
makes us unhappy.

love makes us crave
things far too easily.

love makes us complain
on social media all the time.

loves breaks us and
makes us feel like we
aren’t good enough.

love makes the wait
feel longer than ever.

love feels like an
endless battle.

love is infinite.

2. money is power

money is power.

money is great.

money is happiness.

money buys things.

money makes us.

money creates us.

money motivates us.

money blinds us.

money pushes us.

money breaks us.

money loves us.

money hates us.

money makes us live.

money kills us.

money is our God.

money is our parents.

money is our children.

money is our love.

money is our friend.

money is our enemy.

money is power.

1. why am i here?

why am i here?

why did i get
put on earth?

is it possible to go
somewhere else?

would i die on mars?

who put me here?

was it God?

is God all-loving?

did God make
the people who
shoot guns, too?

why did He make
people like that if
He loves everyone?

why does sadness
exist on planet earth?

why does heartbreak
exist on planet earth?

why are some people
mean on planet earth?

i’m here on earth.

why am i here?

look at me preface

i have a new album. i hope you like it.

1. why am i here?

2. money is power

3. love is infinite

4. 18 is strange

5. this is an interlude

6. feelings are fickle

7. the world scares me

8. i like attention

9. memes are art

10. i miss you

my fans

i love having fans.

it makes me feel
warm inside when
i see just how many
people are fans of
the poems i write.

i love waking up to
messages and words
of extreme kindness
from all of my fans.

having fans helps
me to keep writing.

i wouldn’t be writing
if not for my big fans.

i only write for my fans.

fans are more
important to me
than the poems.

sometimes i feel
like i don’t have
fans of my work.

i hate living when
i feel like i don’t
really have fans.

not having fans
makes me wanna
stop releasing my
poetry to the world.

i live a lonely life
because i don’t
have any fans.

i’d love my fans if
i actually had some.

i don’t have fans.

10. ultimatum

so, i always feel like
these albums should
have an ultimatum, or
something to finish off
on a stronger note, but
i really don’t know how
i’m gonna do that here.

i’ve already changed this a few times.

part of me doesn’t even
really know what to call
this album, i’ve gone and
retitled it several times.
“naked?” “i’m broken?”
“i’m hurt?” just “broken?”
feels like it just doesn’t
come through as easily.

and what’s the message here?

stuff hurts, my heart’s broken,
life really hates me, and it likes
to make me feel like i’m shitty?

woof, wholesome content here.

i guess all i can do
is sit back and hope
2019 is kinder to me
than 2018 was, right?
maybe there won’t be
as much heartbreak,
positive thinking won’t
just feel like an attempt
to not break down, and
it might yield the results
that i’ve been looking for.
maybe i’ll get out more,
make better memories,
and just end up happier.

tough to say, i know,
but i just hope that
this year brings me
a bit of peace and a
little bit less anger.
whatever the result,
i at least hope that
my friends stick by,
help when i’m down,
and keep supporting
and reading my work.

that sounds nice. i like that.

9. suicide

i’ve never really thought
about committing suicide -
or at least not since 2012 -
because not many people
know this about me, but
i have death anxiety, so
when i think about how
we all die one day, i get
shaky and my heart just
starts racing really fast.

death is something
that scares me a lot,
and i know for sure
that i don’t want to
die or take my life,
but i do ask myself
how life would be if
i did end up dying.
i know that people
would be pretty sad,
and i don’t think that
life would just move on,
but i tend to wonder how
much it would affect others.

would my poems somehow
go viral and get lots of views?
would there be some plaque
at an old school of mine that
honored my life in some way?
would some money-hungry
executive find out about this
poetry blog and try to make
money off of what i wrote
for free, just out of passion?
hell, i have a poem or two that
i never released to the public.
would the exec scrounge on
my phone or laptop, and find
some way to release that stuff?

i guess you never
find out about it,
because you just
never know where
you end up when
you leave this all.
i just kinda hope
that i will end up
remembered on
this earth when
i have to leave.

hopefully it’s not soon.

8. anxiety

i hear some people
tell me about how
i’m so “open” with
my anxiety and my
negative feelings.
i think i even heard
one or two people
call me “brave” for
talking about this.
i appreciate it, but,
i never saw it as me
being “brave,” i just
saw it as me being
honest about myself.

i feel like people just
like to put on a face,
and they like to act
like something they
aren’t, but i feel like
i have nothing to gain
from lying to others,
so i’d rather just say
how i feel, even when
i’m not super happy or
trying to be so positive.
like, lately, my mood’s
been really shitty, to
the point where i just
need one of those big,
minute-long hugs from
someone i care about.

but i’m not gonna go
smile on my socials
and act like life is all
perfect and happy,
because it’s just not.
and it’s not like i want
people to be worried
about me or anything,
i just want them to see
how i’m really feeling.
good or bad, doesn’t
really matter to me,
i want it to be real.

that’s all.

7. appropriation

you know what i
think about every
once in a while?
appropriation.
it gets talked up
in the art world,
and it’s a topic
i question with
all of my poems.

see, here’s the thing:
i’m a poet, yes, but
i never really read
or studied poetry
before i started to
write out my own.
i always respected
edgar allan poe, and
maya angelou as well,
and i recently came to
admire sylvia plath, but
i don’t really read it much
during my own spare time.

and i think about this
idea of appropriation,
because i’m a poet and,
having not really studied
or learned about poetry
from a historical or, say,
cultural standpoint, i ask
if i’m appropriating at all.

most of my inspiration
comes from music, and
the music world is in a
funny time, where we
have new rappers that
come in and make music
without studying or even
thinking about the culture
or the original creatives,
they just get bored and
go where the money is.

it’s looked down on there
in the music world, but do
the same principles apply
to me, writing my poems?

i’m scared to find out.

6. her

you know, the other day,
i was thinking about her.
and i know it’s not, like,
healthy because she’s
off being happy with
somebody better, but
i miss what we were.
i miss talking to her,
seeing her around,
hearing her voice,
feeling like she did
care about me, and
it was hard to get it
out of my brain, too.

i wanted to pray that
everything would be
happy, and that God
would make it better,
but i remembered that
He and I no longer talk,
so prayer would just be
a pointless endeavor.

hey, if i were Him,
i wouldn’t wanna
talk to me, either.

anyway, i was just
thinking about her
because i had to
ask a question…
have you ever had
that one thing in life
that you just regret,
all the time? yeah,
that’s me with her.

i had the perfect
opportunity, but
i said “no” to her,
and i regret that
every. damn. day.
of my life. always.
not a single day
goes by where i
don’t ask myself,
“why didn’t i just
say ‘yes’ to her?”

and then i made it
worse by just being
my own, usual self -
which i think is toxic,
even though others
probably disagree -
and now i bet you
she doesn’t even
want to talk to me.
i could probably just
vanish from her life,
and she would shrug
and keep on moving.

it’s probably bad that
i keep thinking about
all of that, but i can’t
stop myself sometimes.
certain wounds don’t
heal as fast as others.
and this happens to be
one that won’t go away.
it really sucks, but i guess
that’s just life for ya, huh?

i just hope she’s happy.

5. crying

sometimes, i think about
how i can’t really cry, and
i tend to wonder if my own
anxiety attacks can just be
stopped if i could cry more.

i know, it sounds
really weird that i
say i “can’t cry,”
but honestly, my
tear ducts just
don’t let me cry
or something.
i tend to just sit,
wallowing in my
anxiety and i say,
“i wish that i could
cry right about now,
because that would
help me release my
emotions just a bit.”

but tears don’t
come out easily.
and i don’t have
a single clue why.
i tell you, though,
there are so many
days where i just
want them to flow,
i want to release
the emotions that
build inside of me,
and just let it out.

lately it just feels like
the world’s against me,
and i tend to just feel
like i’m not up to the
challenge of facing it,
so i sit and wish that
i could let this stress
flow out, but i can’t.
my body won’t let me
cry it out, and it hurts.
holding it in is painful,
but it’s all that i can do,
so i just sit here in pain
whenever i’m really sad.

i hate it.

4. holiday

gotta say, christmas
doesn’t really get me
too excited anymore.
maybe it’s something
where my anxiety is
higher when it’s cold
or something, but it’s
starting to feel like it’s
just another day now.

that’s kind of the deal
with all holidays now.
it almost feels like i
can’t get hyped for
any number of them.
each one just feels
like a regular day.
there’s nothing too
special or exciting,
it’s just another time
to pretend everything
is perfectly fine, and
it’s an opportunity to
hide all your sadness
behind fake smiles, to
pretend you’re in this
holly-jolly spirit, but
really, it’s a facade.

and i think christmas
is harder for me to feel
extremely excited about.
nowadays, material gifts
don’t do a whole lot when
there are bigger things i
wish were easier to get.
or maybe it’s because
christmas is supposed
to be a celebration of
the birth of Christ, but
since we don’t talk, the
faithful part of the day
feels lost on me now.
or maybe it’s because
my best buddy passed
around this time, and i
can only think of him
when this time comes.

i’m not sure, but
i can’t say that i’m
really too excited
on december 25th,
or any big, national
holiday these days.
the only time i can
celebrate is if i just
somehow go a day
without any anxiety.
and that just doesn’t
happen ever, does it?

holidays don’t like me.

3. good?

you know what’s
really difficult?
telling people how
i’m honestly feeling.
like, i’m too good at
saying “oh, i’m fine”
when people ask me
if i’m feeling okay, and
i tend to feel really bad,
because i worry that i’ll
get too clingy or annoying
if i tell them anything, so
i choose not to because i
don’t want to bother them.

i can’t tell you
how many times
i’ve been asked
if i was okay in
the past months,
only to respond
with “i’m okay”
because i was
scared i would
annoy people
with long text
paragraphs.
i tend to type
without even
realizing how
much i wrote,
and i always
have to say
sorry when
i send huge
messages.

but sometimes, it’s
hard to condense.
i try to make it short
but i under-explain
what i’m trying to
tell someone, and
it’s hard to fix it
without sending
huge walls of text.
so i can never find
that happy medium
length of explaining.

it’s kinda like how
i can’t even find a
middle-ground in
my personal mood:
sometimes, i’m just
too elated, and i’m
way too confident,
but the next minute,
i’m just so hopeless,
and i hate every little
thing about myself.
i hate myself just as
much as i love myself.

kinda weird, isn’t it?

2. insecurities

i have a lot of
big insecurities.
and that might
sound strange,
given that i can
be somewhat
over-confident
and that i can
try to pipe up
so many others,
but there’s things
about myself that
i really don’t like.

everyone loves my hair,
but i’m never happy with
the way that it looks on me.
i think i have a nice smile,
but i don’t show it too often
because i don’t like my teeth.
i feel like i don’t put as much
care into them as i should.
and i’m never happy with
the way my body looks.
i sometimes don’t eat and
other times, i eat too much,
and when i look in the mirror,
i either feel like i’m too skinny
or like i’m getting kinda pudgy.

and i’m never happy with
my personality traits, either.
i always feel so annoying, and
i apologize too much for things.
i type paragraph texts too much,
i post on social media too much,
i post the same things on each of
my social accounts sometimes,
and it makes me feel like i’m just
pissing off everyone around me.

and it’s not like it’s
easy to fix, because
i can’t help myself if
the signs point to it.
i want to believe that
everyone cares and
wants me to be happy,
but the more i see it,
the more i think that
everyone hates me.

i hate me, too.

1. fragile

i’ve been told before
that i’m too sensitive.
my heart’s too fragile,
i’m hurt too easily, and
people are scared they
will hurt or change me.
i guess there are things
you don’t really outgrow,
and some things are just
harder to change for me.

i wish i could change
my overly-sensitive,
super-nervous state
sometimes, and i do
wish i could get rid of
my anxiety, but i can’t.
it just kinda sticks, and
even when i’m feeling
a little better than usual,
something pops up that
makes me think about
why i’m always anxious.

maybe it’s a memory
from when she cared,
or when i got to see him
and hold him in my arms.
maybe i get anxious now
because it’s 6:17 am and
i haven’t tried to sleep yet.
maybe i’m anxious that i’ll
wake up at 4 pm again and
waste yet another day of my
winter break in my pajamas.

or maybe i’m just anxious
because it’s how i’m made.
i’m just made to be a mess,
an easily-broken person who
finds myself too often hurting,
unable to handle it and fix my
problems on my own, instead
clinging on to all of my friends,
because i’m overly-dependent
and too often begging for them
to love me and give me attention.

i wish i could be different.

broken preface

best to hit the ground running to start the new year, right? this is my 18th poetry album, “broken.” this one took a while to crack; it went through quite a few changes, the name had to be changed several times, and the final poem “ultimatum” was completely rewritten at one point, but nonetheless, this is my most raw album yet. it’s a conversational album: just my immediate thoughts tossed right into words. i’m extremely proud of it, and i’m super excited to put it out there. it’s definitely not my happiest album yet, but it’s really special to me.

1. fragile

2. insecurities

3. good?

4. holiday

5. crying

6. her

7. appropriation

8. anxiety

9. suicide

10. ultimatum