EMO

I.

I will cloud my mind with EMO and doritos
till I can't feel anymore,
till I can ignore the beatings of my heart
beating on my heart
like a bad Hillary Duff song.

II.

I will act like an absolute jerk to you
because if I can't rid you out of me
I'll force you to rid me out of you.

III.

I will write poetry where you will be the
metaphors of open doors shut down
after you have been the
analogies of blind eyes being able to see.
I'm locked up in my freedom of expression.

IV.

Pathetic.

V.

I will watch every movie that you like
and say it was okay though I was sleeping.
I will go to every concert you want to go to
and say it was okay though I was confused.
I'll do anything for you, but I won't do
that.

VI.

I will watch 10 hours of football every Sunday,
eat 3 Hardee's Monster Thick Burgers,
and scratch myself
to forget my sensitivity.

VII.

I will break the mirror
of your image engraved in it,
so that everytime I look at the mirror,
I don't have to see you in me anymore.
I'd rather have 7 years of bad luck.

VIII.

I will not care what my boys will say about heart's anguish.
I will not care what poets say about my cliches.
Just as long as you can read it.

IX.

Do not be so vain to think that this is about you.

X.

I will remix words so well
it can begin to transfix your nerves,
it can depict your curves,
with words from my simile and allegory reserves,
that predicts your thoughts before you can even think them,
as my lips play these tricks acrobatically,
destroying these laws of poetry physics
as all logic bows down to my use of phonetics
in a language that I have conquered as this perpetual foreigner
has cornered Webster, Struck & White, and Microsoft Word Spell Check,
and they flounder as I twist their arms and wring their necks,
keeping them in check,
causing a wreck, double dutching through red marker lines and pop up signs.
BUT WHEN IT COMES TO WRITING ABOUT YOU,
I got nothing.

XI.

Nothing of something.
Something for everyone.
Everyone in everything.
Everything is everything.
except when I come out with nothing.

XII.

I will listen to Delilah
till I am more consumed with me than you
and maybe then I'll have the nerve to
listen to some more EMO.