Questions in Class

i never understood the questions in class

“tell me what they should do,

how they should be”

i would say they can do what they wish

for they are them

and i am me

“no, that’s not a valid answer”

“i want your opinion”

“you are being lazy for what has been given”

no, i will not press my beliefs on others

for that is rude, disrespectful, and unkind

to one another

for i have lived with this all my life

“your opinion is wrong and mine is right”

and still as i sit with the questions in mind

i can only think of one answer




what you should do

and what you should be

is whatever makes you happy

’cause it’s not affecting me

the suicide rates are at their highest peak

because of people telling others of how they should be

now i stop and think

that is crazy

because people are dying

over others’ protrayed views of a “perfect” society

now all i have

is one little request:

to think of a world full of diversity

as a beautiful treasure chest

because i never understood the questions in class




you are sweeter than honey

no wonder the bees chase after you

i don’t blame them

so do i



your eyes are full of light

when you look at me

little bits of those sunbeams

gleaming back, i see

overcome with warmth

no more insecurities

you look a lot like forever to me


this generation

writing in my memos searching for the right words to say

it doesn’t have to be this way

prone to overthinking and driving myself insane

i’ve figured out if you’re just flat out honest

it really helps the brain

why in this generation, cell phones in the way

do we limit ourselves to abbreviations and a single smiley face

for i hate small talk and “how was your day?”

when all i really want to say is

combinations of the letters of the alphabet arranged in different ways

that make for deep conversation cause i could talk to you all day

i like to dance around my living room

in socks that are way too big

a sweater that is way too big

with a cat that is a little heavier than she should be

and a heart that is just the same

not sure what i’m looking for

not sure when it’s coming

but i know for a fact i can’t paint my nails like a lady

and they better be okay with that


a wabi-sabi heart

in Japan, when a piece of pottery cracks or breaks, it is filled with gold.

wabi-sabi is a concept of finding beauty in imperfections.

i’d like to think there’s a lot of gold in broken hearts.

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