Habits


biting down on chewing gum

can’t stop thinking about it

pick and twiddle at my thumb

can’t stop thinking about it

knuckles crack against the bricks

can’t stop thinking about it

count my scars, four, five, six

can’t stop thinking about it

digging out my fresh, red scabs

can’t stop thinking about it

time to take a few more dabs

can’t stop thinking about it

paranoid, ADHD

can’t stop thinking about it

scheduled to break at one, two, three

can’t stop thinking about it

smokey lungs and itchy throat

can’t stop thinking about it

my liver’s ready to explode

can’t stop thinking about it

ALWAYS ON MY MIND

NEVER STOP THINKING ABOUT IT

Crushes Suck.


I’ve never been in love, so I don’t know how it’s supposed to feel
And I’m pretty sure I’m in love with the wrong person.

The wrong person catches my eye in a crowded room.
The wrong person makes the flowers in my body bloom.
The wrong person makes me laugh way more than usual.
The wrong person makes my daydreams sound delusional.
The wrong person gives me powerful feelings I’ve never had.
The wrong person makes me show off my dance moves that are… my god, so bad.
The wrong person is the inspiration of my writing.
The wrong person is the reason everything is aligning.
The wrong person teaches me how to love every single day.
The wrong person makes me think “You’re the one, there’s no other way.”

Now replace “the wrong person” with the name of your crush – and then get over it!

If the wrong person can make you feel like that, imagine what the right person can make you feel…

Butterfly Bones


i had butterflies through my entire body

ready to rip my chest apart

and fly from my rib cage

my heart fluttered its wings

my body floated to the ceiling

and there was no chance of falling

for a weight had been lifted

making me light as a feather

and a cover had been pulled

making me bright as Sirius

tHORNY Roses – Poem Analysis


good Evening, little Primrose

your leaves make me bleed

you’re thornless, I suppose

planted with blood on your seed


This is a special poem of the week because it’s the first time I’m going to explain the significance. Even though this is a short poem, I will explain what every line means and show you where the easter eggs are.

The most general idea of this poem is that this flower represents a human’s personality from their leaves (attributes) to their thorns (negative characteristics) and the way they are planted (behavior).

First off, I intentionally made every line lower case to emphasize an easter egg in the first line. The only capitalized words in this poem are “Evening” and “Primrose” and this roseeis because there’s actually a flower called the evening primrose (left). As you can see, this flower looks like it has thorns on its stem, but really, the leaves are just super pointy. From a distance, this flower may look intimidating, but it’s not.

This became a message that appearances are different from far away compared to up close. That’s why the second line is “your leaves make me bleed.” Although the leaves aren’t sharp, they look like they could cut someone and do some damage. This line is also a play on words: “leaves” represent goodbyes. When someone says goodbye, they leave your side and that can be painful sometimes. Similarly, when you get cut deep enough to bleed, it’s also painful.

Again, this whole poem focuses on the outward appearance. In the third line, the writer is talking to the flower, or the person the flower represents. It’s written in a tone that is unsure and somewhat condescending because although there is nothing harmful on this flower, it still looks like there is. Therefore, the writer is being cautious of its interaction with this plant. 

This brings us to the last line: planted with blood on your seed. This has two meanings. If a seed is planted with blood on it, that means it’s an unpure seed. The way I see it is that a bloody flower can either be good or bad. It can represent a plant that is full of life and literally contains “a mother’s touch” or it will wither because a seed that is grown by blood instead of water won’t blossom.

Now that you know the significance of this short poem, you can understand that it essentially represents the essence of human life. People are either innately virtuous or evil but you have to dig to the roots to find out which one they are.

Thanks for reading! I’m glad I could share this explanation into my intricate thought process when writing a poem. (Not all my poems require this much thought though – sometimes they have no meaning at all) ☻

Bored and Floating


I’m running away from all my problems
I’m so sick of going outside
Might need a treadmill in my apartment
I’m only hiding, not trying to die

Swimming in the rain
Waiting for another day
Drowning in the pain
When everything’s the same

I’m building a bridge to get over friends
I don’t have a straw this time
Weak bolts make me fall again
I suck up all the tears that flood my life

I’m floating on my back
Can’t see anything underneath
Maybe it’s better without a raft
Maybe I’ll feel some sort of teeth

Brush against my leg
Give me goosebumps down my spine
But the only thing that bothers me is seaweed

I feel fine.

Writing Utensils


You are the author of your own life.  You started writing in pencil, able to erase whatever you wanted. There were a couple of smudge marks left on the paper and the side of your hand. Sometimes you ripped the page when you tried to erase uncaringly. But as you got older, you wrote in pen. The ink still smeared, making it messy and unclear to read. There were stories you wish you could erase but you could only scribble them out. They aren’t legible anymore, but they are still there. They will always be there, indented in the page.

Addicts


biting down on chewing gum
can’t stop thinking about it

pick and twiddle at my thumb
can’t stop thinking about it

knuckles crack against the bricks
can’t stop thinking about it

count my scars, four, five, six
can’t stop thinking about it

digging out my fresh, red scabs
can’t stop thinking about it

time to take a few more dabs
can’t stop thinking about it

paranoid and ADHD
can’t stop thinking about it

scheduled to break at one, two, three
can’t stop thinking about it

smokey lungs and itchy throat
can’t stop thinking about it

my liver’s ready to explode
can’t stop thinking about it

IT’S ALWAYS ON MY MIND
I’LL NEVER STOP THINKING ABOUT IT

A Bottle of Ignorance


This is different than the little green leaf

That I regularly smoke during the week

I hope you know what I’m talking about

But maybe your innocence has washed you out

For luckily, you’ve never experimented like this

With drugs that are so cruel, they give you bliss

This time, it’s not ignorance that fuels a result

It’s simply stimulants that put you at fault

I’m intoxicated as I write this right now

I can’t tell a lie, see the sweat on my brow

It brings out the best

It brings out the worst

It’s just a drunken poem

Go home and quench your thirst