a-hopeless-writer

[a-hopeless-writer]

its 4 am

another sleepless night

and as the rain pours down

i wonder

its 5 am

alone in the dark

and as the rain pours down

i wonder

its 6 am

the sun dares to show its face

and yet as the rain pours down

i wonder

[a-hopeless-writer]

with eyes like the sky on a cloudless day

and hair that must be made of gold

she must be an angel

sent to save me from hell

because her smile shines like a thousand suns

and her voice is like that of a song bird

i’d swim oceans, climb mountains, and walk desserts just so look her in the eye

lips the color of apricot

oh, how i long to kiss her

to feel her, if only for a moment

oh, what i would do just to hold her in my arms

oh, how i love her.

[a-hopeless-writer]

cars rush by as fast as lightning

i can feel your grip tightening

my head feels fuzzy

but my heart is pounding

is this love

or is this death

[a-hopeless-writer]

i want to feel your lips against my skin

youre Aphrodite

youre a goddess to me

too perfect

too beautiful

i want to feel your nails down my back

god, youre amazing

youre much to good to be true

your voice is a gift from the heavens

im so terrified of breaking what we have

this fragile ball of glass

one slip up and it's destroyed

i couldn't bear losing you

but just being near you is torture

the way you look at me

im so uncertain as to where i stand

you're much too good for me

how could I get a girl like you?

i imagine my pupils turn to hearts when I look at you

You glow in every photo, even when you cry, you're so beautiful

So I'm writing a poem about you in the middle of the night

Desperately trying to put my feelings into words

I love you

[a-hopeless-writer]

dismal

thats the only word that fits

this feeling that is hanging in the air

this never ending foreboding

sirens screaming that something is coming

its almost here

something is happening

and its not good

the air feels heavy

gray

its hard to breathe

it feels as though im breathing in gravel

nothing is right

it simply feels wrong

so heavy and stale

whatever is coming

whatever is here

i dont think we can stop it

and im so fucking scared

[a-hopeless-writer]

Who am I?

Apparently, I'm a INFP-T

A jumble of letters

Created to categorize me

The website that decided in an INFP-T left out a few things

It didn't mention how much I love my parents, my friends

It overlooked how I’d die for a stranger

Because everyone

Everyone

Deserves a chance a life

I mean

It was right about quite a lot

It described me as caring

Open-minded

Creative

And I am

I am all those things

And more

Much, much more

It mentioned that I'm a good listener

And that I always look for the best in people

In fact, a lot was accurate

Almost all of it was

It described how often I care too much about too many things

And how that hurts me

How it pains me that there is so, so much bad in the world. Bad I can't fix.

I wear myself thin in an attempt to help everyone else.

And I take everything personally.

But I have a purpose.

I'm to help others

To give hope when there's none left

To try and put good into the world.

I hope I can fulfill that purpose.

I know that I must channel my emotions into my creativity.

To create when I want to destroy

To write poems when I just want to cry

To dance and sing when I feel overjoyed.

One thing I know is that there's no point in looking at the future.

Tomorrow is never certain.

So, I don't know where I’ll be in 3, 6, 10 years.

I know where I hope to be.

But hopes change, so that's pointless too.

”Who am I?” Is a question asked by many

Answered by very few

It's complicated, the question and the answer.

I don't know who I am. Do you?

[a-hopeless-writer]

i pick

and pull

and bite

at my skin

at my hair

at my nails

im not sure why i do this

maybe its because i want to disappear

so i rip myself apart

till nothings left

[a-hopeless-writer]

Lost in the forest of your lashes

And your nectarine lips

I don't want to be found

[a-hopeless-writer]

Of course, I'm going to hell for being gay, where else could I find a demon girlfriend?

[a-hopeless-writer]

I’d run across the clouds to reach you, love

I’d climb a million mountains just to look in your eyes

[a-hopeless-writer]

compared to you, my love, the stars are nothing

for you are my only light in the dark space of my life

[a-hopeless-writer]

Remain calm

In case of an active shooter

Please remain calm

Don't cry or scream

Even though you're scared

Don't call your parents

Save the lines for the police

Which the school will contact

Remain calm

Though you might die

And even if you dont

Your peers will

And you'll be scarred for life

But remain calm

Don't curse out the politicians who care more about money than about your lives

Even if it is their fault

Don't be angry that no one is doing anything

Though maybe you should

Maybe you should be furious that money-hungry politicians do nothing while you get slaughtered in schools

Maybe you should be angry that politicians pockets are filled with bribe money while your schools are filled with bullets

And bodies

And fear

So much fear

But don't be angry!

Don't worry

Because the politicians are sending their thoughts and prayers

And though nothing will ever be the same

Remain calm.

[a-hopeless-writer]

Suicide is a teen epidemic, why?

Cause school and peers force tears to run daily

Depression is systematic, routine

A tool from corps to create corpses, mutineers

A fight fought daily, many giving up

Bodies buried, most provided by youths

I might keep living, cause it's worse to not

Nobodies, somebodies, all take it

A disease of the mind, fight the thoughts, please

To do is to die, to live to suffer

Buzzing like bees, growing louder, so loud

If life is a prison, is death an escape?

Many dreams cannot be reached, hopes crushed

Streams of talent are leached, ropes end trouble

[a-hopeless-writer]

I’m so angry

Angry at the adults who won’t do anything

Angry at the old lazy bastards sitting in congress

Because every fucking day

I go to school not knowing if I’ll come home

I don’t know if I’ll grow up

If I’ll make it past highschool, college

And even then the danger’s still imminent 

Because anyone can bring a gun to my workplace

To a festival

To a movie

I’m so fucking angry

Why does no one fucking care?

The people with power do nothing

They sit on their asses and twiddle their thumbs while the NRA fills their pockets

Like bullets fill our schools.

It hasn’t happened to me

yet

But we go on lockdowns

We get threat after threat

They check our backpacks to make sure we don’t have guns

And yet it still happens

Far too often

Why has it fallen on our shoulders to try and fix things?

We’re just kids

Forced to grow up too fast

Because of imminent attack

Please, god, help us

Please, someone, anyone, save us. 

[a-hopeless-writer]

Paper Heart

The wind blows

Tearing my paper-thin heart into thousands of pieces that drift away

I try to catch them

And I get all but one

But missing that piece hurts more than I could've possibly imagined

People say my heart will heal

But how long will scotch tape and Elmer's glue keep my paper heart together

How soon until I lose another piece

And the cycle begins again

[a-hopeless-writer]

The voice inside my head

I’m tired.

I’m tired of the voice in my head telling me that I’m not enough, that I never will be enough.

I’m tired of the voice telling me that I should die, that no one could ever possibly love me, that my friends and family are better off without me.

I’m tired of listening to that little voice every single day.

I’m tired of hearing it.

I’m tired of the feelings that go along with it.

I’m tired of feeling like I’m falling apart.

Like I’m drowning

Water filling my lungs

Except the water is self-hatred and doubt.

I’m being buried alive by my own thoughts and feelings.

I’m tired of fighting my own brain

Of arguing with myself as I push horrible, horrible thoughts away.

I’m oh so tired because the little voice in my head never shuts up

It never stops telling me how worthless and stupid I am.

It’s always there.

It’s always yelling, and yelling, and yelling.

And I try and shout over it

But sometimes I lose my voice

I take meds that are supposed to make the little voice go away

And it did

It went away for a few months

And I was so happy in those few months

I felt ok

I felt joyful

The little voice was still there sometimes but I got rid of it easily enough

It wasn’t very loud, and it wasn’t always there.

It was gone.

But suddenly, for some reason, the meds stopped working

And the little voice is back

Louder than ever

Pounding at my brain screaming how I should just kill myself and be done with it

And I almost have

A few times

The little voice almost won.

And things stopped me, various things.

But the little voice won’t leave me alone.

Even right now

As I write this poem

The little voice is there

Telling me that I’ll never be good enough

That all my poems are Shit That I am Shit That everything about me is Shit and that everyone thinks I’m Shit

I don’t want the little voice to win

But I think it already has.

[a-hopeless-writer]

anyway heres my poetry slam