Love

Love is love is love is love

But no one asks what

Love is

Is it that feeling

When your heart skips a beat

And your mind flashes to their face

When someone asks you

Why do you like this show so much?

Or is it when

You would sacrifice yourself

Just to see them be happy?

Is it

When you’re awkward and

Keep talking about yourself because

You feel too odd

Asking them about themself?

Or maybe… 

Yes, I think I’ve got it - 

When you want to run

To speak a language no one knows

Except you and them

To be your truest selves

By yourselves

In the woods

Just like the song always said;

“Come along with me”

I know all the words

I wish you did, too

So I could come along…

With you

Music girl, music girl

Your melody is sweet

Our duet grows stronger

Every time we meet

Music girl, music girl

My deepest, truest friend

Will you follow me

To a world without end 

Music girl, music girl

Please never stop playing

Your music has enticed me

So I will be staying 

struggle club

maybe i'm alone in my room right now, but

i'm not alone in a way, i'm never alone-

there is someone just like me right now, sitting in their closet with an old laptop too close to their face, typing

with shaky fingers another poem that doesn't make any sense but does in their head- 

and maybe there's more people feeling the way i feel- confused, hurt, angry, sad

depressedanxiouscuriousboredfreakingoutterrified

so maybe there's more people struggling just like me

a worldwide struggle club that isn't official but somehow is, because i know that in a place deep within me that i've never bothered to explore there's a feeling, a single thought;

i've never been alone 

(my friends- you are not alone <33) 

Where

am I?

Who

am I?

no one

knows.

no one

cares.

I am

invisible.

useless.

nothing.

no one

at all

to everybody.

Why show up 

when no one cares

anyway?

why,

that's the question 

what happens when something disappears?

does anyone remember?

what if the things that have really disappeared

are already gone forever?

the things we think have left and disappeared

are just planted there, in our minds.

or maybe that's because the things that disappeared

have already existed

but what bout all the things that will never come be?

can they even be said to have disappeared? 

would anyone notice if I was just someone else someday?

would they point and say, hey that's cool!

or, wait, isn't that...?

would they notice if I was suddenly bubbly and popular

or would I look like someone else

and ruin their life with my bad personality?

would anyone realise I was gone

if I suddenly disappeared and popped up halfway across the globe?

would anyone there even notice me at all?

no.

the answer is always

no. 

just

no. 

no. 

and that's that. 

no. 

what happens when I step away?

when I leave for a new path?

what about when you disappear instead

without a single word? 

then someday someone new comes along.

they remind me of you.

of past me. 

of us.

and is it bad I can't help but to be jealous?

I like beautiful things.

Not things the world thinks are beautiful,

But things that I think are beautiful.

The tears dripping down a person's face,

Broken seaglass on the ocean floor,

The smoke wafting up from a detrimental fire

A lonely place filled with nothingness.

Perhaps it's not nice, but I still think it's pretty.

For I love the city lights at night,

The ebbing of the tides glimmering in the moon,

The swish of wind through pastures and trees,

The amber glow of the dying afternoon sun;

But I also like scrapes on knees

And the carved features and defiant glares on angry faces 

I like car wrecks and broken wings

And crumbling houses full of mosses and vines and weeds.

Even if it's not nice, I still think it's beautiful.

The outline of straight, tall trees on fire,

A pair of friends clinging to life together,

A picture of a land plunged into poverty,

Shadows lurking in all of life's valleys;

I know it doesn't sound nice

And maybe I should be bothered more,

But to me it's all so very beautiful;

And I love beautiful things. 

I watch embers fly up like bleeding stars

From a ferocious crackling fire

I watch the waves endlessly slap the shores

From the ocean I love so dearly

I watch tall grasses wave softly in time to invisible music

Made by seas of lively dancing trees

I watch as other kids play in the pool at night

Sounds soaring, hearts and minds alight 

I watch the city lights rising from afar

Silent bustle of the night's streets filled with cars

I watch rainclouds drift over the valleys

Casting shadows and letting down their waterdrops

I watch the mountains jut up as if to catch the sky

And let all of it just pass me by.

I wonder how much we've all seen

That we'll just forget, despite all the beauty.

That it ever happened;

What it sounded, felt and smelled like. 

How many countless amazing things have we seen

And accidentally taken for granted.

Oh, Lord, how could we just forget? 

All gone, just like that?