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Poetry from the Teenage NERD.
Part 5

You have to
grab life by the horns
and hold on.
Because it can
buck you off
at any point.


The pain's inside me,
not on the surface.
I'm not even close
to the source.
Is it real,
or ridicule and spite,
given to me,
to rearrange my anger,
change the direction
of my loathing?
Unfair in either situation.


You're so close
to me.
Especially now,
because you're all I have left.
I'm still sad,
but not alone.
Because you're still here.
Still real.