The Anguish of Aniston


my mind is filled with words i will never speak

with foggy sunrises and stained sunsets

a place to get away to when my heart gets lost in my throat


i still sleep with the lights on

not because i’m scared of the monsters under my bed

but because i’m scared the skeletons in my closet will come out to play tomorrow




the system hates kids like me
those that dream at the tune of meaningless lectures, kids who ask how and why instead of when and where
someone with abstract thoughts that escape the even rows you’ve put us in since we were 7 years old
a system that was founded in 1821
based on factory work and race segregated bathrooms and dreams that died at the hands of war
while the world around the system changes it seems to want to stay behind
a system that plasters signs on the wall about an anti-bullying zone
but when kids end up all alone from bullying suddenly their words are just words
turns out your signs are just signs
and no one cares until a kid commits suicide
a system that teaches those that are depressed to suppress
the feelings of emptiness that clutter their creative minds
yet you wonder why
they end up dead without any warning signs
or maybe you just didn’t care enough to pay attention
because for a system that preaches that it all gets better one day
it sure seems like you don’t want it to




you are the world and i am one of the many stars
let me exist in your vast skies
consume your empty orbitals
bleed my light into your dark alleyways

my existence in your universe is trifling
unnoticed by your greedy eyes and empty hands
your gaze lands upon on constellations
and i am too dull

i burn brightest when you’re turned away
infatuated with the supernovas and those who bow down to you
you think you’re the sun
less of a planet, more of a black hole

i only come out at night
pounding on your windows to let me in
but your curtains are shut and you’re enveloped in the inhabitants of your world
how do you expect me to be bright when i’m so far away?




your vanity’s so cold
and your gaze is so dull
validating only those who beg to be acknowledged by you

you have a hold of my heart,
please let go
your grip is too tight and i’ve forgotten how to breathe

i know what you’re about
you pick first and apologize last
thinking of others only when it benefits you
so i remain clutter in your secluded mind

you’re waiting for the one that you love
but no one’s good enough for you, right?




miserable america
assassinating the characters of
claustrophobic closeted kids
leaving them nowhere to go except into the arms of drugs

emotions tattooed on the sleeves of those who have sold themselves for nothing but love
“you’re throwing your life away, you’re a disgrace to the family name”

then you wonder why kids are on top of rooftops
screaming about how they wish mommy would just try loving instead
but they have no idea how good it gets
because acceptance is a better home than a closet will ever be

Poems by Aniston Hudson


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