Teenage

Love, it’s a strange, unpredictable thing,
It brings the heart a brief serenity,
Like promises exchanged within a ring,
Before it blinds us to calamity.

If I must reject this poisoned grace,
The world will be consumed by melancholy,
As toxic foxglove blooms in its place
As gentle hearts are shattered for their folly.

Why did this bitter shadow fall upon me?
I did not lack in truth or morality,
But that’s what my eyes must see:
That painful love uncovers reality.

For love dismisses the beloved zen,
So I ask what’s love again?

Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
Beauty is subjective to us all.
So instead I wonder if a single soul alive,
Would mourn someone such as I.
Would they scream?
Would they cry?
No forget-me-nots scattered by my side.
For I am the lost sock,
Looked for but never worn.
The hum of the refrigerator,
Heard only when the power dies.
The fuzzy bear with broad eyes,
Forgotten as the child earns his pride.
Even if I were to die tonight,
Nobody’d ever know my plight.
Beyond the veil,
I’d hear them laugh,
Hear them mock,
And then go on with their lives,
Just like they did when I was alive.
Still, a stubborn hope inside,
Says someone would feel the gray,
Once the light has left my eyes.
And to that pipe dream I hold on—
Maybe they’d tear up at a sight,
Fend me with all their might,
Dog-ear my favourite poems,
Forget the world outside.
Maybe the seat where I used to sit—
Would feel too cold or slightly wide.
Regardless of what’s to be,
I’d like to believe that delusion of mine.

It was cold, unfair and beyond painful.
Everyday to see the chain warp around my throat
choking me slowly, deathly and blissfully.

I was in hell, looking at heaven the world I live in
spared me no mercy and mocked my existence,
only showing me scorn for love.

I want to run. To run is to live. To run is to be free.
To run is to show spite,
yes, spite the fuel that burns brighter than anything.

I shall burn brighter than any star
for losers of this earth shall perish in mercy of the strong better as dead,
better as food, better to show off the gruelling taunt.

A vow carved by my own blood
as promise to embrace the never ending pain
and suffering, ahh my chaos take this world.

What beauty lies in this accursed world
as the never ending cycle continues innocence,
a pure lamb, the exposed and soon to be dust.
Is there any beauty in this ouroboros.

Wait, could it be that life the purpose of life to live is to suffer?
To live is to then die, to live is to experience.
Now after this small quarrel of mine
let us suffer a little more
before going to sleep.

Bullying is always bad
it can be in whispers
it stabs you
breaks you
makes you get blisters
they make you feel deserted, isolated, alone.
“You are useless” – those words are the worst
it can leave you voiceless
it causes brokenness
they make you feel hopeless,
invisible clueless.

I want to break free,
to fly away
to make and show my world on display.

It can be a rude comment,
a mean joke but it still hurts mentally and physically.
you say I stink but when I say it back to you
you blink
but that’s life
it’s like a knife you get hurt;
you fight back then you get off track
back to being the useless one.

They walk over you, you rise
but little did you know they’re way ahead of you
Enough IS Enough.
I stand out and shout “VOICES LOUDER THAN SILENCE”
We all deserve to speak, to break free and fly away
to put my world on display
To smile truly and not falsely
Don’t fight bullying but don’t ignore it
SOMETIMES they bully for their hurt,
give them a cookie
talk to them deep inside their sad

No longer silent, no longer small,
Together we can break this wall.
It takes one voice to start the light,
To turn the dark and make it bright.

They tell me that the blueprint is quite simple:
Walk through the double doors at 8:00 AM,
Ignore the sudden tightening in the temple,
And blend into the morning classroom hum.
Collect the letters stamped in bright red ink,
And stack them like a fortress on the desk.
But no one asks a teenager to think
About the weight of being picturesque.
My mother counts the trophies on the shelf,
And sees a future paved in polished gold.
She does not see me wrestling with myself,
Or how my hands turn numb when they are cold.
“It’s just a phase,” the gentle voices say,
“A little dip before the upward climb.”
But phases aren’t supposed to steal the day,
Or turn your heartbeat into borrowed time.
I sit inside the cafeteria noise,
A crowded island in a sea of sound.
I watch the easy laughter of the boys,
And drop my eyes down flat against the ground.
The phone becomes a mirror and a blade,
A tiny screen where perfect lives take root,
While in the dark, the plans I carefully made
Are tangled up in branches at the root.
I want to tell them that the ceiling drops,
That breathing feels like lifting heavy stone,
That every time the social music stops,
I am completely, entirely alone.
But words are heavy when you’re out of breath,
And silence is an easier wall to build.
So I play quiet, playing life and death,
Inside a room that never can be filled.

She cries tears of silvery white,
round pearls as white as snow.
To find them you must go
where no one has ever known,
where moon-like jellyfish fly,
where star-like plants grow.

In her crown of pearls,
clutching her gown of mist,
she weeps by a silent pond,
keeping secrets none will owe.

But beware, seeker, beware,
her tears come with a price,
one you soon shall know.

Being me
Is so hard to be
Annoying brothers
Homophobic Grandma
Know it all Grandpa
I can’t be me
I told my Mom
I’m bi and trans
She still calls me “Girl”
Still calls me “She”
Why can’t she see
That is not me

I wonder what the future will bring,
And if my dreams will learn to fly,
If one day I look back and smile,
at all the times why.

I wonder if people will stay,
Or slowly disappear with time,
I wonder if the friends I have today
will still be their when I’m older in life.

I wonder why we fear change when change,
is part of who we are,
Maybe every difficult moment
is just another step too far.

I wonder about the person I’ll be,
and all the things I’ll someday know,
For now I’ll just keep asking questions,
and let life teach me as I grow.

You, the first one I met
Saw you residing by the fading sunset
I never saw a sight so bright-
I knew you were right
Like the sun you shone,
Have I really won?

Surely I have. It’s surreal,
this love feels oh so deep and pure
The allure of your azure eyes
outmatches the widest skies
So tell me-
Do you love me?

Those who’ve caught a glimpse of the ocean before,
Don’t realize how miraculous it is to this stranger outside,
How desperately I’d like for it to be my guide,
How shoddily I’ve crafted fantasies just to visualise,
How enthralling its presence is in my eyes.
They take it for granted because it’s always been there,
But the waves have me smitten outright I swear,
I’ve never touched its shore or the sand on its edge,
Yet the yearning is more feral than anything I’ve had to pledge,
Its roars knock at my door when I’m opulent in bed,
I wish to answer to this beauty before I drop dead,
The salty tears it’ll shed into its abyss in desolate grief,
Will be enchanting for even if they’re brief,
Its sobs shall be hidden by catastrophic tsunamis that arise,
Perhaps their clashing bustles may synchronise,
I envy the fishermen whose profession is to observe its tides,
I envy the little creatures who get to live inside,
The sun that touches it every morning and then falls in at set,
Fondle with it as though handing violets under threat,
The minuscule stones that make their way in somehow,
The extraordinary secrets it holds as solemn vows,
The tumultuous cities made of coral reefs,
And the planktons flowing through emerald weeds,
Its depth is a tribute to contemplate ourselves beyond life,
It carries a sense of forlorn allure and demise,
Oh, please, oh please, would you let me experience its breeze?
Tell me it’s mine to caress and not just something to foresee with ease.
To the world, it may appear as nothing but mere water,
However, to someone who’s yet to be a spotter,
It’s everything bewitching I aspire to live forever more.