Home

To feel a home is home
before ever setting foot inside
is a poisoned chalice,
a specious temptress,
a fire on a cold day,
whose flames call to you
to lay amoungst them

Will I be safe there?
Will this warmth lead to burns?
Will I burn so bright and so fast that
I burn out
or worse
burn others?

Will these walls protect me?
Or will I be just as exposed there
as I am in the cemeteries at night?
Most vulnerable in a supposed sanctuary?
Most alone amoungst so much company?

To feel a home is home
with such blind hope,
is walking into a room of judgement
naked, blinded, and exposed
yet egar and honest and
unknowing of the reactions of the jurors
who will soon decide your fate

One can only hope your best is good enough
One can only hope the house is built for you
One can only hope it's rooms are warm
and its walls are sound
but you'll never know until
you open the door and
step inside

Poets Curse

I wonder if all poets fear
that theyve invented a new emotion
a new type of love
a new way to fall apart so blissfully
and if they fear being
the only ones in the world to understand it
and i wonder if for all poets
this very fright of ebing the first and only
to feel this new form of lonely
is the reason why they picked up their pen.
to write and write until someone tells them
they're right and that
they're not alone
I wonder if all poets know what it is im feeling
because im so scared im the only one
and so here i am
writing

Echo Back

I want to scream "i love you" from the rooftops
just to get it off my chest
because i dont want to tell you yet
and not meant it
because i dont know what love is
and if i love you
because i dont want to go down that road
and crash again
but everytime you close your eyes
i mouth the words under my breath
so it doesn't come out when i speak
and every time i think about it
im glad you never noticed
but its getting harder to stay quiet
because my whispers are getting louder and
i want to scream i love you from the rooftops
but im scared it'd echo back

Crumbs

You were nothing
but bad for me.
A cookie.
One more bite,
One more batch.
Your bitter-sweet chips
still linger
on my lips.
A reminder of your taste.
A haunting flavor
of love went to waste
Yet if we met again,
Id still take
One more bite

Somehow

Suicide, anxiety, these thoughts fill up my brain
This guilt i hold inside of me is driving me insane.
I have this urge to kill myself, and splatter paint my walls
But Nothing hurts like knowing that you don't have the balls.
I want to reconnect with you and mend our broken fences,
But now my name is black to you from all these false pretenses.
And if i fixed them anyways it wouldnt be the same,
Because we both have some problems that cant be overcame.

But know that its not lack of care that brought us to this fate
Its just the world we live in; full of people, full of hate.
I promise i have wished you no ill will, and done no harm
But nothing i could say to you would ever break that charm
You listen to their bullshit; fall victim to their lies,
And now theres no one left but me to hate and to despise

You never listened anyways in the past few months
I just hid the pain away and smoothed out all the bumps
But soon my heart got tired, and my father filled with rage
And finally decided, id fall out of my cage.

And much like birds first learning flight, the ground must meet a few,
And i have hit rock bottom because of how i treated you.

Your words hit like daggers but im sure youd say the same
So i cant seem to shake this intense embrace of pain
Just know that if you reading this that i still love
you,
Somehow.