for the lost ones

i wanna say a few
words to those who
are battling, can’t feel
what they’re all worth.
seems like too many are
struggling and thinking
they’ve got nothing they
can offer the world, and
i can’t lie, i’m feeling that
in the same way you are,
but i just want to write up
something you can turn to
when you’re lacking belief.

just take a breath.

i know there’s not a
thing that i can say
to permanently end
the pain, but what i
can tell you is that
i’m happy you’re all
here to read these
words on this page.
i know this life can
knock you down in
every way, and you
will have some days
where nothing even
feels okay, but those
are just small pieces
that i promise will get
better if you let them.

you’re strong for how
you’ve pushed forward,
it’s hard to face these
problems alone, and i
know how it feels when
your head plays tricks
to make you think you
aren’t special, but the
bravery you’ve shown,
it’s commendable, and
please, promise you will
never let anyone say that
you aren’t strong enough.

this poem is for the lost ones:
you are absolutely worth it.

10. resurrection

yeah, the king’s back
and for real this time,
this throne is mine and
nobody’s gonna take
the crown away, not
gonna leave you all,
as long as there’s a
soul out in search of
a purpose, i’ll be here
to guide and provide
a light, let them know
they’re not alone, no
matter what they’re
going through, they
have my poems to
turn to for comfort.

struggled for a minute
but i’m concentrating,
now i’m out creating
what i knew i could,
guessing it just takes
some time to get back
in the swing of this, it’s
tough to keep your touch
but now i’ve got it back,
gonna be the king they
been waiting for, you’re
patient, i appreciate it,
thanks for sticking with
me, you’re the greatest,
how can i repay this?

end of 22, but i’m
just getting started,
thoughts are swirling,
now i have ideas, i’m
gonna keep it going,
what will be on 23?
stick around, you’ll
see, it’s a journey
that i’m really glad
to be on, let’s just
keep it pushing, i’m
sitting on my throne,
crown still fits right,
and i’m never giving
up, uh huh, i’m back.

resurrection.

9. perspective

i guess i feel like
i needed to “quit.”

i thought it would
just be a little troll,
but i realize that it
gave me a good bit
of perspective, and
it made me start to
realize the words i
write mean a thing
or two to the people
supporting what i do.

even if it’s me just
hopelessly moping,
repeating the words
i wrote before about
a love that will never
be with me, there is
someone who feels it,
and it really connects,
i just have to know it
and tell myself these
poems are important.

i would leave behind
a lot if i gave it all up,
so many people that
i’ve brought along for
this journey, i couldn’t
leave or forget them,
even the ones who’ve
stopped reading these.
who would i be to stop
and rid myself of what
i love doing so much?

i think it’s time
for a resurrection.

8. my impact

i guess that goes
to show my impact.

sometimes i tend to
forget how much i
matter to everyone.

i tend to not give
myself the credit
i actually deserve.

my words connect
more than i think.

i never realized it
because i lack the
confidence in them.

spend too much time
thinking all about how
much better everyone
else is at this than me.

they rhyme harder,
the rhythm’s tighter.

and here i am, just
writing out the first
thought on my head.

i didn’t really think
it would catch on.

a bunch of words
on a page with no
real pattern at all.

but yet, here i am,
and they all want
me to come back.

i guess that goes
to show my impact.

7. come back

i see messages
like that, and i
start to feel bad,
i just wanted to
say it to see if
anyone would
feel sad if i left,
and now i’ve got
everyone sending
paragraphs and
telling me that the
people who don’t
read are lowlives.

i didn’t think a
harmless troll
would cause a
bit of hostility,
but here we are,
everybody wants
me to come back,
write not for them,
do it for me, even
if that’s how i’ve
been going this
entire time now.

it’s like a bunch of
people are bummed,
“come back and write,
with all your passion,
you wouldn’t just give
all of this up, don’t quit.”
everyone wants to know
if i’m okay, ironic since i
use poetry to help me if
i’m not feeling so great.
but everyone’s thinking
that i’m leaving because
i’m not feeling that good.

i didn’t think they’d care.

6. a letter from a fan

“dear poetry king,

i don’t know if you
will answer us back,
but i just thought i’d
write this to you now.
i wish i wrote it before
you left, but i guess i
waited a little too long.

i just wanted to tell you
that your words meant
the world, and i’m glad
that you put them out.
i know how passionate
you were about these,
and it made you happy
to put out poems, even
if no one looked at them.

i don’t really believe
you’ve left, but if it’s
true that you’re gone,
i hope you know that
your words made us
happy. your bravery
was wonderful, and
i hope some day, you
come back to poetry.
you are worth it, your
work is special, and
i hope wherever you
go to, you just keep
doing what you love.

long live the poetry king.”

5. started to wonder

and i think that’s
why i wanted to
leave, because
i had to ask if i
was making all
my readers tired
of hearing these
same sad things
on constant loop.
it’s how i feel, but
even if it’s real, i
had to ask myself
if it got repetitive.

i mean, how many
times can i write
about a crush that
will never share the
feeling before i get
told to just shut up?
she even told me she
reads those ones, and
i started to ask if i was
only on it because she
kept checking in and i
wanted to give her the
poems she’ll care for.

had to wonder if i
was cracking to the
pressure of others,
writing what i felt
but putting it out
because it’s what
somebody else had
wanted to hear, and
it made me look at
my work differently,
in a way much less
satisfied than i had
been when i started.

i couldn’t write for me.

4. my biggest critic

bet that you can’t
believe i would try
throwing it away.
it almost seemed
like i would have
my creative touch
back, but now i’ve
just given it all up.
and for what? i’ve
heard them all say
i’m done because
the views are going
down and so now,
i’ve had enough?

well, that’s what you’d think.

you’d be right to
talk about a low
view count and
the decline that
i’ve been seeing
since “(untitled)”
dropped, but i
honestly don’t
care about that
too much today.
the numbers are
just stats and i’ll
write regardless
of the number of
people reading.

the sad truth is that
just because i called
myself a king, i never
felt too comfortable
about the nickname
and it only made me
more paranoid with
every word i’d write.
once you are a king,
the standards raise
and everything you
write just has to be
perfect, but i never
felt perfect and i’d
lose sleep at night
worried the words
were getting basic
and repetitive. i’d
say that no one is
harsher on these
words than i am.

i’m my biggest critic.

3. time away

i can’t believe it.

they actually
think i’m dead.

i think i needed a
moment like that,
some time away
to consider the
creativity and
decide where i
could go after
the last album.

that was such a
big moment, and
i just wondered if
this world would
give a shit if i quit,
drop it just like this,
a cold-turkey exit.

it’s like i’ve said,
they really care
when you’re no
longer there, it
saddens them
to see you go,
and the thought
of you being gone
makes them want
to check you out.

i didn’t even think
they would believe
that i was leaving
for a second, but
here we are, the
outpour is strong,
everybody wants
me to stay here.

i can’t believe it.

2. eulogy

long live the
poetry king.

his passion for the
written word was
inspirational, and
how he bared his
soul so openly to
everyone and only
wanted happiness,
we really wish he
could’ve stayed to
give us more, but
the 20 somethings
are the scary time.

sza once said something
about how she wanted to
keep her friends through
the 20 somethings, but
the king started to feel
like he wouldn’t, all the
people he loved would
leave which would lead
to increasing paranoia,
he was isolated and it
just broke him apart.

the poetry was
his way to cope,
cathartic in how
open he was to
give the world
the secrets of
his love, and
insecurities,
of which he
had many.

and he couldn’t overcome them.

1. burial

well, that’s the end.

“matt anderson,
the poet” is gone.

loved by few,
missed by none.

the poetry king is dead.

it all just got to his head.

couldn’t take
it any longer.

stuck in his thoughts,
hadn’t gotten stronger.

the poetry king is dead.

the world’s filled with dread.

wish he didn’t
have to leave.

touched with his words,
and now we sit and grieve.

the poetry king is dead.

and the word’s been spread.

come say one
last goodbye.

as he goes home,
it’s hard not to cry.

the poetry king is dead.

resurrection preface

my 22nd poetry album is called “resurrection.” before writing this album, i had told people on my social media that i was “quitting” poetry. initially, i had just meant it as a troll because, when i posted my last poem “now it sucks,” i had thought just minutes before posting “hey, what if i told everyone i was quitting?” what started as a harmless troll actually gave me the concept for the album: i didn’t expect that people would be as upset about me leaving as they were, and even if i was just trolling and never actually planned on quitting, telling people that honestly gave me some perspective and helped me realize some things. thanks for that, guys. (oh, and i decided to buck the trend of releasing this at midnight so that i could put it out on world poetry day of march 21st. happy world poetry day!)

1. burial

2. eulogy

3. time away

4. my biggest critic

5. started to wonder

6. a letter from a fan

7. come back

8. my impact

9. perspective

10. resurrection

now it sucks

now it sucks
because i’m
self-doubting,
trying to find
some happy
vibes, but i’m
struggling to
pick them up.

now it sucks
because i’m
seeing some
people i love
run away, all
seems like the
blame is on me.

now it sucks
because i’m
questioning
if you even
want me to
keep writing.

now it sucks
because i’m
wondering if
you all even
want to read
these, or if i
happen to be
wasting time
talking to my
wall with this.

now it sucks
because i’m
not sure if i
deserve the
attention for
the poems, if
my stories are
generic or if
my writing is
good enough.

now it sucks
because i’m
looking in my
mirror and i’m
struggling to
love the one
who’s looking
back at me.

now it sucks
because the
king doesn’t
think so high
of the crown
these days.

now it sucks
because i’m
feeling like i
haven’t been
doing enough.

now it sucks
because i’m
not gonna be
anyone’s first
choice friend,
and i’ll lose all
the ones i love
because i’m so
replaceable, i’ll
just get passed
on by someone
who can do all
the things i can,
but even better.

now it sucks
because i’m
not worth it.

no one cares

no one cares
about me.

no one cares
when i’m happy.

no one cares
when i’m sad.

no one cares
when i’m bored.

no one cares
when i write.

no one cares
when i talk.

no one cares
when i have
a new album.

no one cares
when i put out
new content.

no one cares
when anxiety
attacks me.

no one cares
when i’m funny.

no one cares
when i show
my emotions.

no one cares
when i love me.

no one cares
when i hate me.

no one cares
about me.

never be mine

i guess that feeling
will never be mine.

the happiness and
joy and positivity
will never be mine.

the feeling of you,
arms around me,
never letting go,
knowing you will
be by my side, it
will never be mine.

the sense of pride
that i’m doing my
best possible work,
the feeling that all
the poems i write
will be must-reads
and command the
attention and praise
will never be mine.

the ability to relax,
live stress-free and
not get caught up
in all my anxieties,
go with my gut and
just try to have fun,
the care-free side
will never be mine.

the thought that
i’m doing enough
and helping out as
well as i truly can,
the idea that i’m
a great friend to
everyone i know
will never be mine.

the sense that i will
make it through, my
future will be bright,
and the world will be
my oyster, the feeling
that i’ll do amazing
will never be mine.

the feeling that my
creativity will always
shine bright and my
albums will always
go bigger, be better,
sense of improving
will never be mine.

but that’s just life.
throws everything
at you, all at once.
it does that to me,
and i know that the
ability to calm down
and take everything
one day at a time,

will never be mine.

10. want to hear

i want to believe
that i can keep
going on, and i
want to say that
i’ve got the words
everybody will all
want to hear, i can
keep myself afloat
by writing poems
that the world will
want to read, they
can relate to what
i’m saying and i’ll
help someone with
a battle of their own.

creativity will come,
there’s a little of it in
all of us and maybe
i shouldn’t worry so
much if it’s gone for
a little while, since i
work so hard to put
out so many poems,
i know that the world
would want me to wait,
take my time, make my
albums amazing so one
day, they can relate and
pass them on, i’ll become
the king i tell myself that
i am, i’ll be the greatest.

it’s gonna be tough,
battle with so much,
this month’s just one
curse after another,
but i know that i can
do it, and this is just
another page in my
book, one that goes
on and on, i’m gonna
keep it up, and i’ll be
strong, keep putting
in the work that i tell
myself i can, one day
the world will want to
hear what i gotta say.

i just know it.

9. can't breathe

i can’t breathe.

everything’s just
bringing me down,
pain in my stomach
it just won’t go away
and life continues to
attack all at once, i’m
fresh off a test that i
didn’t do my best on,
i hope i don’t fall off,
hard to move forward.

so uneasy, i’m always
just so queasy, and i
keep getting told to
just breathe, but it’s
not working, now my
brain feels fried and
i can’t close my eyes,
the curse of the month
rages on and doesn’t
even give me a break.

break’s the right word,
because i feel like i’m
gonna break one day,
all of this pain will just
give way to a fall, and
i’ll topple over and not
get myself back up, i’ll
spend all my days just
laying in bed, i’ll never
find productivity again.

i can’t breathe.

8. letting me go

thinking that i’m
letting myself go,
just doesn’t feel
like i’m really fine,
was said that i’m
getting a belly, i’m
already not a fan
of my body, why’d
you tell me that?
don’t think it’s a
compliment, like
i’m getting fat, i
can’t find me any
body positivity, i
keep overthinking.

hair’s growing and
i hear some people
telling me that they
like my ‘stache, but
i question if i’m only
growing it because
it’s a sign of times,
i’m trying to be me,
find my individuality,
and this is my way of
carving my own lane,
even if it’s not clean.

my social skills are
fading because i’m
unable to feel myself
enough to want to be
around the people i’m
able to feel happy with.
feels like my creativity
is ditching me as i try
to write these words,
this is all going wrong,
i’m starting to feel sick
and i can’t take it, just
wanna feel better and
i want to love myself,
but it gets hard as life
tries to go against you.

i need to rest.

7. sir shakes

still remember when she
called me “sir shakes,”
she was just poking fun,
but it’s the truth, that’s
who i am, sir shakes.
feeling it more lately,
my paranoia grows
and my anxiety rises,
i’m trying to stay calm
but i’m shaking in fear
all day, every day, it’s
impossible to get rid of.

laying in bed at night,
my body starts shaking,
out of nowhere, here i’m
feeling worse than before,
and the lack of sleep’s got
me acting different, no one
notices but the headaches,
fatigue, it gets to me and i’m
not moving forward in the way
i’d like to, everything crumbles,
i’m begging for a break but they
don’t come so easily, do they?

and so, the shakes return
as another attack occurs,
bad days are piling up and
it’s really hard to stomach.
told myself that i could do it,
since i got past 2018, but now,
2019 begins to test me, and i’m
starting to wonder if i’m up for
the challenge, if i’ll crater or i’ll
make it out stronger than ever.
certainly not feeling stronger, i
just want to get rid of the pain.

am i crying for help?

6. anonymity

sometimes i wish
that i could start
all of this over in
total anonymity,
wish i could write
all of these poems
without a person
knowing who put
words to pages.
i wish i could go
back to 2017 and
try again, but have
no one know that
i’m the one writing.

wonder what i would
get to write then, if
others would start
reading my poems
for the mystery, and
if anyone would even
figure out the mystery
of the man behind the
blog, putting out such
honest, heartbroken
thoughts and poems.

i’d be like slater, i’m
happy harry and i’ll
pump up the volume,
scream out my poems
loud and proud, but a
soul won’t know who’s
behind those screams.
carve out my own little
private piece of life, i’d
just be another person
going about his day, but
with some great mystery.

wish i could’ve tried that.

5. melancholy

awoken to a new day,
but something simply
doesn’t feel right, i’m
down on my luck but
i can’t figure out why.
just one of those days
where i don’t want to
get myself out of bed,
i’m just laying still and
waiting for something
that’ll make me move,
but nothing even works.

this is melancholy.

sadness without reason,
a loss of hope, and a big
empty feeling inside me,
like the world would hate
to see me winning, and
it’s the perfect way for
me to start off my day.
joyless mess of a brain
takes over and it makes
me feel like i’m hated, i’m
not good enough for you.

this is melancholy.

and if i could make
it go away, i would,
but no matter what,
it wallows and stays,
purging my happiness,
pain to my mental state
as i fail to create some
enthusiastic moments.
guess i’m blessed with
these tensions and i’m
bound to stay uneasy
even when i’m content.

this is melancholy.

4. night terrors

harder and harder
to rest up at night,
i lay wide awake,
watching as all my
night terrors pop up,
keep me from sleep,
even when i’m tired
and craving it most.
can’t let myself just
float to dream world
when they’re all here
trying to terrify me.

i’m feeling something
that’s not even here,
it’s grabbing me and
i can’t tell if this is an
angel or a devil, where
it’s taking me, the road
i’m going down and, wow,
i can’t close my eyes and
let myself sleep because
i’m petrified of what will
happen to me or you, it’s
the scary time of year and
no rest is in sight right now.

all my thoughts crash
to the forefront as i’m
laying in my bed, and
they keep me up even
when my eyes are shut,
sick to my stomach as
i contemplate the fear,
the worry, and all that
life could throw at me
in any old given week,
i’m weak with anxiety,
i can’t bear the pain.

can i just sleep, please?

3. paranoia

how bad is it that
the smallest sound
could get me rattled,
thinking you, or one
of your new friends
found a way into my
room to haunt again?
crawled on my leg and
now, all of the sudden,
i’m petrified of all them,
the smallest click-clack,
and i think they’re back.

why can’t this just
get out of my head?
the paranoia, idea of
something minuscule
being so threatening,
getting me horrified,
peace and quiet is all
i’m trying to find, but
the thoughts swirl and
keep me from relaxing.
they all say “breathe,”
and i’m doing that, but
i can’t quiet my heart or
slow my brain, spinning
with no sign of stopping.

don’t even wanna walk
because then it’ll pounce,
i’ll jump out of my socks,
don’t wanna keep it but
i’m terrified to see it move
or hear it squeak, and now
here i am, the only one at
home to try to find a way
to stop my shakes as i’m
faced with all these fears.

and it’s not even here.

2. march

never wanted to
say it, but march
is a cursed month.
only serves to push
my anxiety further
and stress me more
than i would imagine.
i used to think that
the third month was
a time of positivity,
the weather warms,
as does my world,
but it turns out life
decided otherwise:

march 5th, 2017,
sunday morning,
my spring break
is getting started,
relaxed and happy
to have time away
from college, but
a call to my work,
“pop left us, matt.”
i tried to push on,
but it broke me up,
i couldn’t focus and
school stress built,
ended worse than
i started, and just
wasn’t the same.
i miss you, poppy,
still quote you, but
it’s just not the same
as hearing it for real.

march 2nd, 2018,
friday afternoon,
first time being
broken so hard,
introduced to her
lover and my heart,
it sank and it hurt.
just as spring break
was about to start,
she had someone
she loved all along
and that wasn’t me,
and my vacation away
was a lot less relaxed,
couldn’t even do work.
just as i started to feel
like i was better again,
the thought that i could
never be hers just kept
coming back in my head.

march 4th, 2019,
monday morning,
yet to fall asleep
because i wonder
what’s to come in
the next days, as
spring break starts
within the next week.
seems like the time
that’s cursed for me,
and i’m getting ahead
as i continue worrying,
but it feels once again
like the good start i’ve
gotten off to in 2019
could hit the skids at
any given moment and
i’m nervous that i’ll have
to pick up the pieces of
yet another tired heart.

i just want to relax.

1. head on the swivel

moving out with my
head on the swivel
because i’m at war,
the world’s watching
and i’m stuck in fear,
like any day i’m gonna
fall into a hole that i’ll
never crawl my way
out of, and i’ll never
have anyone to help
lift me from it, either.

i put my hood up as i
step outside and then,
the sun shines a little
less as i walk out, and
the clouds open on me,
the joy of the day is away,
blue sky goes gray, and i
wanna go lay back in bed.
but alas, i keep on going,
yet i walk with a fear that
bad news is soon to come,
something’s lurking around
and i can’t point to what it is.

it’s all in my mind, but
i’m battling with myself,
and i can’t stop these
thoughts from purging
and taking my positivity.
too intimidated by what
could possibly happen,
and i just want it all to
go away, but i do have
to watch out because
this happens to be the
scariest time for me.

let’s talk about it.

losing my mind preface

after over a month without a full-length album, this is my 21st album “losing my mind.” i was going through a huge lack of creativity before writing this album, but i’m so glad i was able to end it, because this album really means a lot to me. it’s definitely my toughest one yet.

1. head on the swivel

2. march

3. paranoia

4. night terrors

5. melancholy

6. anonymity

7. sir shakes

8. letting me go

9. can’t breathe

10. want to hear

where is he?

starting to wonder if
i’ve got them asking,
“where is he?” i was
stuck, uncreative, in
this state of disarray
and i couldn’t think
of how to manage it,
stopped and started
to wonder if this was
the end of it, and i’d
be falling off just like
i had in the last year.

but i’m patient,
taking my time
with this to find
the right idea to
catch their eyes,
let this be known,
the king won’t go
leave the throne,
he’s cooking and
a little unsteady
but ready to get
back in and win it.

i hope you all hear
what he has to say,
because not all kings
are happy and joyous,
the crown creates fear
and adds to the drama.
but he’s got a message:
there’s new stories and
experiences to be told,
and now it’s high time
for his paranoia to be
shown off to the world.

coming soon.