crying fluorescent tears on the train,
๐ช ๐ธ๐ช๐ด๐ฉ ๐ช ๐ธ๐ข๐ด๐ฏ’๐ต ๐ด๐ฐ ๐ข๐ด๐ฉ๐ข๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ฅ, ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ฌ๐ฏ๐ฐ๐ธ?,
i say to you. my eyes are soft but i house venom underneath my teeth. i cloak my vulnerability in spite, daring you to be cruel to me so i can finally bite. you can tell.
๐ช๐ต ๐ค๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ด ๐ธ๐ช๐ต๐ฉ ๐ฃ๐ฆ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ฏ๐จ,
you finally say.
i gauge your kindness with suspicion.
when i detect no snide, i soften my tongue.
yes
but
๐ช๐ฏ ๐ฎ๐บ ๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ข๐ฅ,
๐ช ๐ฅ๐ฐ ๐ฆ๐ท๐ฆ๐ณ๐บ๐ต๐ฉ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ณ๐ช๐จ๐ฉ๐ต
there’s this song that lorde wrote after david bowie died
she sings about spilling our guts out on graceless nights because we are young and so ashamed,
frying our brains to the speakers
as we watch our heroes die
like lorde, all my heroes perished.
the party’s cut into my bones,
and the magic bullet’s wearing off.
dancing her feet on tombs,
lorde concludes
that she can’t stand to be alone.
watching my heroes fade,
i also thought
that i couldn’t stand to be alone.
yet i’m crying fluorescent tears on the train
and i feel my youth burning strong,
flaming my throat with anger and song.
my youth,
it still burns strong.
and i know.
my heroes ashed,
but i can stand
to be alone.
you open your mouth to respond
but i shake my head. i already know. it doesn’t need
to be spoken to me,
not anymore.
you smile and vanish in the scenery.
i’m crying fluorescent tears
on the train
and i can stand to be alone.
poem from my upcoming poetry collection which tackles the blooming into young adulthood. 
amaryllis 