another found poem

i listened to a bunch of music a couple nights ago and wrote a found poem with some of the lyrics bc I'm a gay ass nerd

Deep inside me the color's all I see.

Denominations

Our indignation

Take your time, don't hurry,

can't you see I'm nervous, so please

Close your eyes and I'll kiss you

But I find it hard to love you

Lying in your attic

Suicide in your arms

To lick your heart

this is the only part of it that's actually good enough to post haha. here's the list of the music i used for the whole thing, so not all these songs may apply to what i have shared here:

i’m looking through you the beatles

clark gable the postal service

without you lana del rey

start of something voxtrot 

my mirror speaks death cab for cutie

hard to explain the strokes

indigo tom milsom

girl that you love panic! at the disco

nowhere man the beatles

seaside the kooks

twin size mattress the front bottoms

zorbing stornoway

arms tonite mother mother

scar tissue red hot chili peppers

it's not a good poem but i like it anyway it has character. i have to work every night this weekend, which kinda sucks but at least i'm making money holllllla. and I got a B on the math TEST that i took today which i was positive i would fail. Pleasant surprises are always nice :) I worked so hard for that grade, too. It was all me. 

look at this cute photo i uploaded to instagram the same night i wrote the shit poem. i like feeling cute ^-^

not to mention how modest my outfit is i really rather like it. a weird sort of empowerment by not showing my neck i guess. i haven't been doing that in a lot of my youtube videos lately, i've noticed a trend. 

in conclusion:

i'm quite exhausted, but keeping a positive attitude is key to being the best i can be. 

considering rejoining poetry club this year for the bouts that are coming up.

competing is super fun and i have a poem i would like to share but i dunno. i'm still pretty swamped with work and school but i guess we'll see how things work out. my friend renee keeps telling me to come back lol

tomorrow's a half day but i'm wearing my favorite dress anyway because i love myself

x

Popping, Locking, and Dropping a Poem in Here...

Today we had free-writing time in my Creative Writing class. I had a really hard time focusing because I was hungry and I forced this out with every fiber of my being. It was like rubbing my head against bricks. The more I read it though, the more I start to like it. No title yet, and if I ever decide to publish it I will probs take it down from here. Enjoy it while you can lol

EDIT: BLOGGER IS A BEING A DICK AND WON'T FORMAT MY POEM CORRECTLY WITH THE PROPER SPACING I SWEAR IT LOOKS BETTER THAN THIS IS MY WORD DOC >:(

-

cut me apart from the rest of my being,

i’m fine. i was tethered to those egos but

now i’m whole and myself and there are a few

rough edges but those are to be expected

and can be trimmed down with some scissors 

if god concentrates hard enough. 

walking out of the woodwork i met you,

with the same sort of body and rips and

shreds and we have some garden shears in 

the garage just in case we make a mistake but

neither of us are fully wrinkled yet, so please hold on. 

when i was pulled from the womb 

i was sharp and reflected the light

off in red waves in different ways and 

i was smooth as bone marrow kept in 

a glass case for recognition by paying patrons. 

the creases came later into my 

soiled silver skin.

friends and love

and the feeling of her hands rough

against mine proved time and time 

again that she was hurting me and leaving

dents and i finally realized that months ago

and i don’t think i went too slow. 

my brain works it’s own pace. 

and then i met you. we share similar bruises

and i want you to know my shreds and my 

busted up legs and the crinkle in my back,

but persuasion isn’t my forte and you’re 

still trying to iron out your latest indentions

and i haven’t tried to help because i know

that’s neither what you want nor need. 

we’re all just little children 

with tin foil hearts and silver minds

and soapy mouths and we get bitten into

and chewed up and spit out like gristle and

i was never okay with that but now i know 

you and if we keep playing rock paper scissors 

in the dark perhaps we can postpone getting

ripped apart.  

do you have any regrets?

I found this little poem in my drafts folder this morning. I wrote is so long ago. I still like it, though.

remember what i meant to you?
back in the days of microwaving
all our food.

i don't mourn who you are
i mourn who you used to be.

something

i squirted glue on my hands just
so i could peel it off when it dried.
and i also spit on my cuts because
my grandpa did that during the war,
and i love him.

spur of the moment

things i am made of

glue
calloused hands
broken blisters
dirt.
anger
and sadness
and cinnamon.
acrylic paint
empty promises
peaches

and a gallon of whole milk

Poetry That Isn't True

I accidentally took a photo of myself this morning

Or I took it last night. Can't remember.

Anyway I started writing a poem last night because I was feeling like shit and it's about stuff  I have never done (except for the 2nd stanza WHOOPS) and I probably will never do but hey I needed to get it out so tell me what you think

-

what if i got drunk then

woke up in the morning wearing nothing but

last night's make up and a cape made

by the arms of someone I call a friend

wrapped around my shoulders. then got out

of bed and smoked the last cigarrette from

the package with the golden trim,

my legs dangling off the bed and my back bent

like in a scene from a black and white movie.

i've never starved myself for looks,

if only just to feel a little bit more alive than usual.

but in my new reality I still have a

hole inside of me that I fill with fresh

hunger pangs and kiss their lips until

the hole goes away and is replaced

by something that tastes like peaches

with the skin left on. Soft and palatable

and making my taste buds wild until

juice dribbles down from my lips in lines

like the salt water that falls from my eyes

because i know that i will never have this life,

as ugly as it seems but some days i get tired

of trying to act perfect and pretending

like the shallow life i lead actually means something.

i want to let everyone down

and smash their high expectations.

allowing myself to finally feel something new

that wasn’t planned out since the day

i was brought into this world.

i came in crying with lungs like

tissue paper and i will go out likewise and

when i’m gone it will be my own fault

with no one to blame but me and the hole in my stomach.

-

...So that's that. Uhh I'm not anorexic I really hope this didn't lead you to believe that. I have symptoms of it according to my doctor but honestly I just don't feel like I really am. They probably would have taken more serious action by now if I was.

Anyway, hope y'all have a nice evening. 

Quick Lil Poem

Tonight I went to a pool party.

Tomorrow I'm not going to work.

Then I babysit the day away.

Now I'm left to pondering life's worth.

Since the fourth of July is coming up, here is a poem...

-

i can't decide when to cry.

should i do it now when my house

is silent or do i keep it pent up

like a firecracker stuck inside

of a barbie's head on the fourth of july.

we used to do that together. Blowing up dolls

till a parent found us in the road.

I can't decide if it's better to turn

my eye sockets into personal fountains

which can efficiently pour out my misery,

or to become a naked plastic barbie doll

with dog bites covering its surface,

and burst into burning, fragmented pieces.

- 

You can probably figure out when I wrote this. 

Haiku Wednesday

Poetry semi-

finals are on sunday. Lord

Almighty, help us.

Poem/Possible Video

I wrote this poem a while back and I'm wanting to make a youtube video with it. What do you think?

Sleep

It’s funny, I don’t actually mind this feeling. 

It sort of feels like it’s just me all alone in the world,

Even though I know I’m going to hate myself tomorrow morning when I’m exhausted, right now I feel okay about myself. Maybe I’m just going crazy. I don’t know how to tell. 

For some reason at times like these I always feel like I can take on the world. I  get the feeling that I can survive companionless against the world, which I know is not true. 

I need other people around me to survive.

I’m constantly checking in with others, trying to find verification that I’m not dying. Even though I already feel dead, but that’s beside the point.

If it weren’t for my therapist and friends I probably would have killed myself long ago.

That actually scares me.

It’s a miracle- 

i’m so out of control that I could have spiraled

down, down, down.

I’m so depressed now I’m unsure if I’m even going to be able to get myself out of this. 

I’m constantly sad, scared, tired, and confused. 

Yawns punctuate everything I say, 

I want to be happy, but it’s like I can’t remember how.

It’s been so long since I was truly glad. 

I want to be alone for about a week, and be allowed to sleep

But sleep is elusive- it seems no matter how I chase it I can only grab onto wisps at a time, leaving me more exhausted when I wake up. 

Even right now as I write I can’t help but wonder if I’m losing my mind.

I’m writing as though I were writing a term paper, 

and perhaps my disconnection from what I’m writing right now is unhealthy. 

As I read back over what I’ve written,

it doesn’t feel like a diary should.

It seems more like a poorly written novel. Is that how I think of myself? 

I don’t know.

I just want to sleep. 

There you have it! I really want to make a video with this somehow, but I'm still struggling to find a concept that works (I've tried so many different things). Do you have any suggestions? And friendly reminder that you can subscribe to my youtube here!

:)

Today I went to Poetry Club for the first time this school year. Last year I was a regular club attendee, and this year I guess I just dropped the ball. Part of the problem is because I am very insecure about my poetry writing skills, and I never really felt like I was worthy to be a club member. Over the summer I basically gave up writing all together. It seems all I'm good for is writing meaningless blog posts, since that's the only thing I've done consistently over the past year or so. That doesn't bother me much, but some of the kids at the club are so good that I can't help but feel inferior.

Today, In a Nutshell

Wow, two posts about Math hatred in two days, WOOOO!!!!!!!!

Today I took that math test I refused to study for last night. The teacher was gone today and we had a sub, so it's not in the grade book yet, but mark my words, I failed that little mofo.

The class I had after math was English large group. English large group is quite possibly one of the most pointless classes I have ever taken. What happens is me and about 150 other kids in English all have to go to my school's auditorium and act like we care about what we're learning. Don't get me wrong, I really like English class in general. But when you sit me in a room with over a hundred other kids who are bored and try to make me take notes, nothing good will come of it.

Today as I sat in my seat, still fuming about the test I'd just taken, an idea hit me. I flipped over my notes packet, and I started to construct a poem about math, and why it sucks and needs to go die but first be burned alive and impaled by a splintery rod. My friend Leah has been wanting me to write a poem about how much I hate math for awhile now,  and today my muse was finally ready to comply. Unfortunately the poem actually really sucks and I only have two stanzas done, but I sort of wanted to post it anyway. So, without further ado...

I hate math.

It's not hard to admit.

Everyday I go to class,

it makes my stomach sick.

Oceans of equations

get jumbled up in my mind.

When will I ever need to use this? 

It's simply a waste of time. 

I can't decide if I'm going to finish it or not. Any feedback/suggestions? I'm sorry to any of my readers who actually like math, but I thought it'd been established by this point that I have extremely violent feelings toward the subject. I really hope that my teacher grades my test tonight. Wouldn't it be something if I checked my grade and I got an A?! Yeah, that would be something, but I highly doubt it'll happen. I also just realized as I read over this post that I bash not only math in this post, but English class too. Geez, I really need to get my act together.

Wait! While I'm complaining about school, here's another class I can gripe about: Foods. I'm sorry if you're expecting another steamy story of me and my star-crossed suitor (who, for the record, is no longer my star-crossed suitor). But, what actually happened today was that me and my group members (All of whom are named Hannah. But that's a whole different story), had to make microwavable lasagna. Just think about that and I believe you can formulate your own opinion on how that product turned out. After we were done eating, I was washing some of our dishes in the sink. Everything was going fine until I tried to rinse off a pan and a bucket load of water splashed all over my jeans and feet. I pretended not to care, and then not a moment later I turned around and hit my head on a cabinet. I chuckled along with my group members, poking fun at my own clumsiness, but I was still pretty embarrassed. I managed to not do anything stupid for about a minute and a half, until I was walking to grab a paper towel and I slipped on some of the water that splashed out of the sink when I got wet. I was so off balance I had to grab onto the counter for support, and banged my left knee on a cupboard. By the time class had ended, I was a damp, battered, and bruised mess of a girl. Luckily I'm home now and I'm in a fresh pair of jeans. 

God, today was really something else. I hope you all had wonderful days, my lovely blog readers! Catch ya on the flip side, when I will hopefully have news about my math test (*gulp*). 

:)

Houston We Have a Problem

I realized that my blog title is a reference to math. This is extremely disturbing. I wrote a poem to express my feelings. I am not good at rhyming so it isn't a very good poem. 

Houston We Have a Problem

It was about a week or so ago

from today,

I discovered I have a problem

that is making my conscious  pay. 

My blog so sweetly titled

“Infinitely Pi”

is a strikingly clear math reference,

that is making me want to cry.

we all know that I hate math

I make

my stance clear

that is why this blog title

makes me cringe and jeer. 

It is hard to say why I

named my

blog as I did. 

It all seemed so clever,

Now it has occurred to me that it’s quite stupid.

I wrack my brain for 

better names

yet none come to mind except for

“Hannah’s Bodacious Dance Party” and

“Anti-math movement corps”

Now this poem is losing

its rhythm 

Please oh please give me name ideas

to offer me emotional freedom. 

-Welp, that's it. I wrote it in like five minutes this morning.