FreeStylePoet

[FreeStylePoet]

Is this confidence or hubris?

I wonder about a lot of things 

I think too much 

I like to scrunch up my nose a lot 

I like to love a lot 

I want to pray with you 

I want to pray for you 

I am going to love myself first 

I am inevitably going to forget what I was supposed to do first

I need you to remind me 

I can press my heart in to your hands 

I can mold myself until I fit you 

I fit you 

I licked my ice cream cone and thought of you and thought of crying 

I end all of my stories with “and then I cried”

I like to lick 

I love to suck 

I am not a whore but I am your whore 

I want to be slutty for you 

I want to love you 

I love you in all the things I don’t say 

I am afraid that you will break my heart 

I am afraid that I will let you break something I never wanted to give you 

I never wanted to give it to you, anyway 

I can move on 

I have already started before it is even time 

I am gone 

[FreeStylePoet]

Jesus Wept

In times like this I see your face 

And I know that you are more than this. 

You have a calmness I cannot seem to grasp, 

peace and love I can only imagine. 

But here, in this moment. 

I see the man, who loved his friend, 

even if the mourning would cease soon. 

You loved your friend, 

and I love you. 

I do love you. 

You loved so wildly and ceaselessly, 

you pushed and charged people, flipped tables, broke laws. 

All for our good, for his good. 

Because even though you loved all of us, 

you wept for one.  

And that is where I find you most, 

in the weeping.  

[FreeStylePoet]

I had a dream once, but I don’t remember it now.  I don’t remember a lot of things. 

I remember your hands though, I miss you and it hurts me more than I care to admit. 

I thought I was stronger, but is it a weakness to care? It feels like it. 

Panic is familiar to me and I think that is why I like your hands, it scares me and I am used to that feeling. 

I have stopped eating and I am not sure why. 

If this is love, I am unsure about whether or not I want it. 

I need to tell you so many things I can’t say, but I want you to guess them. 

Want you to know, but I can’t tell you it hurts my heart too much. 

My heart is breaking because I care for you, I am sorry I am not good enough. 

I am not good enough for you and it is hard to admit. 

I am ruined, used up, spoiled. 

I am trying to work it out but it is hard without you. 

[FreeStylePoet]

I wear my heart upon my sleeve; I am not who I am

I have never been taken care of, I have always done the caring.

I know how to give my body, I am comfortable with that context.

I am not comfortable saying my opinions.

I am not comfortable walking and holding hands.

I want to be. I am too afraid to be.

I just want you to love me a bit longer.

I just want to tell you I love you.

I’m sorry

[FreeStylePoet]

My hands don’t know how to hold on

I trusted a long time ago and it never worked out in my favor.

I have always bandaged my own wounds, my mom would send me up the Nile in a heartbeat because she knows I could manage.

I don’t know how to be taken care of. I don’t know how to be cared for like this.

I know catches, I know snags, I know lies and games and shame.

You make me feel like it’s okay and I can’t have that, because okay only lasts so long.

And I don’t want to feel like this because it leads to me getting hurt.

I might cry when I see you and I don’t know why, I don’t want to think about it.

I just want me to be okay with you.

I’m not sure I am.

[FreeStylePoet]

My body is mine sometimes

How can it be taken and stolen and ruined and burned without me even knowing what it was? 

I wish that there could be more peace and less struggle in my life. 

I want a break, a pause, a screaming fight at two in the morning- these things are not mutually exclusive. 

The air isn’t cold but I want to burn a little from it anyway. 

The chairs are all empty and you do not text back and I know this game. 

I know this game because my best friend played it all throughout high school, learning division and multiplication by the space between texts. 

I don’t want to play games I just want you to pull my hair, and bite my lip, and slap my face. 

I said I didn’t but I did. 

My life is full of things I meant but didn’t say, it’s a bad pattern I have. 

I will not hurt you, but you cant hurt me either, but no matter what I can’t make you do anything. 

I am tired, and I miss you, and I am pissed that I miss you. 

I want to go home. 

What is home? 

[FreeStylePoet]

I lost my license and I don’t want a new one but I want to get birth control

I think I have become someone the past me would be ashamed of, but I am not ashamed.

I think I miss you and that scares me so badly and I don’t know how to tell you how scared I am.

You make it all okay and I have to work so early tomorrow and I still miss your hands in my hair.

I like it rough and demanding and unwavering and that’s why I want birth control.

I wonder if God is ashamed of me now, or of He gets it.

I wonder if you are ashamed of me.

I think that I have given you so much of me already I want to take it all back and lock it up and move on.

I am not used to be vulnerable. I am not used to being taken care of. For most of my life I have done the caring.

I think I might shower and I think I might cry and I think I might be a little too much sometimes.

I am not used to this at all. I hope I never get too used to it.

I am in the worst pain of my life and I still can’t stop thinking of you.

[FreeStylePoet]

There’s been a shopping cart at the bus stop the past two mornings

I hope you’re okay, whoever you are.

I feel as if I should stand vigil, wait for whatever justice there is for whatever this is.

A piece of me understands the joy of leaving behind everything you’ve ever known.

A piece of me knows what it feels like to be left behind.

I still don’t know if there is someone I should call, if there is a report I can make.

When no one cares, who cares?

If you fight and fight and fight what happens when you run out of things to fight with.

If you’re the only one who cares, who cares?

I want to be better than I am but I will always be insecure, will always have unique challenges to my life and love.

I’m sorry I’m not good enough to save you yet, I’m sorry I couldn’t help you save yourself.

I want you to know I’m worried and I’m thinking of you.

[FreeStylePoet]

Horny and lonely and hairless

I drank vodka and got horny and missed your hands, but you don’t even care.

You don’t even care and I had hands once I don’t remember now.

My face is warm and tingly and I miss strong hands and someone to pull my hair.

No one has ever pulled my hair but I got 8/11 on a BDSM quiz tonight and I could have done better if I was paying attention.

I swear I would fuck a strong breeze right now if it seemed interested.

This isn’t making as much sense as I thought it would but my tongue is thick and my lips need to be bitten.

I want to be bitten.

I want to be bitten.

I want to be bitten.

But that’s not going to happen.

Was it a waste if I wasn’t suppose to care to begin with?

Was it a waste if I drank vodka and didn’t fuck anything?

Was it a waste if your smile wasn’t enough this time?

[FreeStylePoet]

I bought two types of hair removal creams for a boy who won’t text me

I am trying to be sexy in my body and it is hard at the size I am.

I love this body, even sick, it does so much for me.

I am literally chemically burning the hair off of my vagina right now and I think that kinda explains my relationship with my body.

I love my body, but-

I will learn to accept it all as I am one day, and I will learn by getting rid of my doubt.

Remind myself I am made of stardust and I have a right to be here.

Read more poems and think about kissing less.

Or kiss more and think about writing less.

Kiss my body myself and say fuck boys.

Talk more with the people who care and worry less about those who don’t.

But right now, I am succeeding in burning my labia and writing what might be poetry.

So we’ll see how tonight goes.

I hope someone gets to appreciate this work of art.