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Poetry

My freshman year of high school I took a technology class, and one of our assignments was coding a website. Before this, in middle school and beforehand, I was writing poetry. Instead of eating lunch with everyone else, because I didn't feel very close to any of my classmates, I would sit in the girls locker room and write poetry. I think from doing that I improved my skills and got a lot of my feelings out in the open. It was a way to communicate when I felt so small and isolated, edgy as it may or may not be now. I had pages and pages of poetry, and it used to be on a Google Doc before I printed them out and deleted it in 2026. It's kind of a full circle moment, but now I'm in a poetry club freely sharing my poetry, and it is incredibly enriching.

For that assignment, I wanted to make something different. I think in high school I was always trying to make something different, cool, and a little spooky, because I went to a mostly white Christian school and a lot of...well, everything felt watered down and the same. I think it was because I wanted someone to notice what I was going through. I wanted someone to see me. For that assignment I made a black website with links taking you to 6 different poems that I wrote. It was definitely edgy, but I think I got a good grade. I was, and still am proud of it, in a way, even though I can't access it today, (I don't even remember the domain,) this section of my website is paying omage to that. Younger me, I see you. I hope that you can see me too through these poems, and appreciate the feelings I want to put out into the world.

Not every poem will be on here, as I am writing a book, which I will link here if/when I finish, but consider this page the behind the scenes/extras.

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Fog (revised)

Tears trickle down left over from the thick pillows nailed in my head.

Humidity flows through my veins with the blood from each breath.

I can't see through my glasses

I'm in some misty dream where sleep, illusion and reality are muddled together like mixed play doh.

I wish to sleep but my back has aching strings that drag my through a ghostly state.

I cannot sleep. My thoughts seem to come back and haunt me, more vividly than in the day.

So I continue on.

A soft waltz.

Lights in the rain.

A slow motion whirlwind

Sometimes I think if I close my eyes now I will never wake.

Events pass.

Friends laughter fades into an eerie, surrounding echo.

I still feel quieter.

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Solace

Every day when I walk to school

When I get there

Josh is always sitting in a chair

I never asked him why he gets to school so early

Or why he slouches

But if everything in my life crumbles

Somehow I feel I can have a comfort in knowing

That Josh will always be in that chair

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The Spider Has Wings

It was told all its life that it couldn't fly

That climbing a water spout wouldn't do diddly.

But it knew it could.

It knew it could go farther than that old spout.

So it spun a web and soon within

Caught a creature of such elegance,

Such beauty, it was brought to tears.

Its multicolored dress feathered around the creature's slim form innocently

As if a descendant from the sky.

But it scoffed at the spider, saying,

"How is it that I should die such a grotesque death?"

"Why, I am beautiful. And you are a pig who deserves to die."

The spider laughed at its ignorance.

But a small question lingered on the back of its mind

'Am I worthy of this life?'

'Can I do what I know I could, if I had wings?'

'If I could go past this dumb old spout?'

His fears soon melted

When he saw it from the clouds

A rusty speck, barely visible

And the beautiful sun

On a pair of kaleidoscopic wings.

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One More Day

Maybe when I lack the strength to dream

When all that is left are the rotting, smoking sinews of my body

When it is all but ash and nothing

When I cannot raise my face to kiss you anymore

And the futile, silly dramatics of my being are used

Torn and run dry like ideas on ripped paper

When my love for my fellow man and myself

Have faded into apathy and hatred

I will waste my life on a predetermined, stupid existence

Typing in numbers and letters

Cleaning the fecal matter

From your organic body

And somehow you will know

You have chose this for us

We will rot together,

And I will kiss you again.

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The Dead World

I worship the unbiased foggy sky

The underbelly of the brush and the dying trees

The bones of the world and the unkindness of the mountain

Occasionally,

One should take time

To care with their minds

To appreciate Earth's corpse

Before it is revived again with spring.

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Guts

My intestinal tract weaves around my body

A snake looking for a meal it cannot be satiated with.

I feel grease leaking from my pores into a deep puddle I will soon drown in.

My tongue feels longer.

I pant like a dog would.

I chew on a piece of my teeth.

I chew

I chew

I chew.

Crunch.

My eyeball sinks to the bottom.

In my growing reflection I see a mass of unrecognizable flesh.

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spiders are cold

I am not enchanting or intriguing.

I am a spider skittling across the ceiling.

Disgusting, silly, and confusing

You shudder when you see me.

But not in the way that I like

I want to be a little inviting

I want you to feel the need to pour your warmth and kindness onto me.

A spider would die under the weight.

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strange ethereal

when she speaks my heart flies

and then I was suprised

that she would touch me at all

pay me any mind.

she makes me feel mad

angry and crazy

this beautiful lady

makes me want to beg

and I haven't begged lately

or at all.

oh, godess of strange

teach me your ways

do not let me believe it is limerence

touch me again

or just be my friend

right now I want to be here

in each instance

you know something i don't

and even if you won't

humor me with the time of day

i wish you the best

i wish you happiness

and the warmest and easiest days.

perhaps i will rot.

perhaps i will not.

with this spell you have placed over me.

i will look up above with a breath

Today I will learn to just be.

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whisper

cool mists of time and thought was over me

like a bad smelling beach on a meloncholic day

I know that this

The embrace that nature holds me in

After a long day of existing

This is also living

In its stark contrast and flavor to euphoric joy

Or melting plearure, or searing anger

I am not afraid of it.

I will not blend it into other feelings.

Footsteps through rocky and uneven sticks and earth

Bugs eating at the supple, salty flesh of my ankles

Trees towering over me,

Without the light shining through.

Like bars or guradians.

I do not feel trapped or intimidated.

Amidst the strange sadness there is strange lust and strange anger

An urge to run and bite and claw

An urge to lay down and finish while the woods watch me

But the strongest is silence.

Out of respect for the world.

How dare I taint anything with an outburst.

One thing I love about this world, is it knows this.

It watches me all knowingly at every turn.

It knows the essence, the passion, and the stupidity of my being

And it doesn't hate me.

I can't say it encourages me either

But love is evident through every leaf and wave of the ocean and cell of my body.

Enough to breathe again.

And I will return.

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Djungelskog

There is nothing that special about you

You are small

You are something to hold

Small expensive beast

I shouldn't care in the least

But you warm up my heart when its cold

I wonder about you, your eye bags

How a thing with no brain comes to be

Djungelskog, you are not very special

But you're very special to me.

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