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 four 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

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 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 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 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 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 the

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