Was it Worth it?

Poem by A.C. Ham

Was it worth it? Feeling good for a moment just to die for a lifetime.

Are you satisfied calling yourself a hero as you commit another crime?

Against your future and your conscience, you stab in stride.

Slowly killing anyone who cares so you can save your pride.

Was it? Are you? I'd so, you're more daft than I'd thought.

You're a moron who had it all and wanted more than you got.

Was it worth getting high just to complain about the fall?

You drop to your knees then hate that you have to crawl.

You could simply stand up or try to be grateful

But you instead wonder why no one likes someone so hateful.

Money cannot buy anything that truly lasts

Dopamine and oxytocin waste away and are in the past.

You love the adrenaline but hate the rush

When your thoughts are too loud you force them to hush.

You're wasting away as you swallow more poison.

Keep calling for silence while you let the noise in.

You run out of air hoarding it all for yourself

Then complain to the dead that they don't care about your health.

Is it worth preserving your life just to die too soon?

To fall off the ledge and finally see your chosen doom?

Kill off all your fellow stems until there's only you

Then complain that you have no one with whom to share the view.

Was it worth it? Killing all your friends just to get some peace.

Was it worth the fact that you will never be at ease?

Was it worth feeling good for a minute just to die for a lifetime?

Was it worth all your patience when the stars will never align?

Was it?

Dear Future Spouse

I’m going to have to wait to find you.

There’s a lot inside of me I need to sort through.

But when I’m done maybe there you’ll be

And we’ll continue on happily.

Recently, I had a dream

Where a friend had to talk to me.

I woke up and had learned about myself.

I found a way to help my own health.

Keep on waiting, Love, we’ll be there soon.

You’ll hold me tight, my heart will swoon.

Then we’ll face the world together, hand in hand,

I won’t leave, won’t change my plans.

So stand with me, we both need hope.

Stay with me, we both can cope.

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first crush

I remember the first crush of my kindergarten days,

Though the memory’s blurred through a rose-colored gaze.

I knew he liked me back when he started tugging my hair

And the adults told me he was mean because he cared.

I didn’t know any better, so I decided to like him back,

Though if I could go back I’d give little me some flack.

I guess it all worked out because that little boy was sweet

But you shouldn’t fall in love with every bully that you meet.

They’ll call it romantic to disguise the abuse.

Men can be mean but women can’t blow a fuse.

My first little love was the sweetest little man

Who gave kisses on cheeks and squeezed together our hands.

He’d give me the best parts of his home-brought lunch

And bring me pretty leaves that gave a satisfying crunch.

Back in those days, we labeled it as love

For we had no idea what real love was made of.

Now we’d recognize it as a childhood crush

Who we loved because we didn’t know better than to blush.

Not to say it was wrong to crush and not like.

It’s simply odd to think of how much love causes a fight.

My first crush and I “broke up” because we changed interests

And as easy as that, we forgot our easy bliss.

It’s saddening how quickly we grow up and forget our little selves

And that we fell out of love so quickly as well.

But it’s good to know that love was there earlier in our lives.

That love was some sort of current making all things bright.

And sure, life will get harder and love becomes confusing

But neither has to be a game so there’s nothing we are losing.

did you ever love me?

from my book, Anecdotes Regarding Adalaide

The question haunts my wellbeing

and attacks my self-esteem.

It pounds my head causing ache,

but voicing it makes my chords break.

So it remains unspoken to the air

yet the unsaid is tugging on my hair.

I haven’t seen you, you haven’t dared

And I keep pretending that I haven’t cared.

I ponder the thought for a minute,

Reevaluating the world I had with you in it.

The answer is no. You never really did.

The realization makes my stomach sick.

It hurts more when I find another truth;

I’m the only one to hurt because I loved you.

a many wondrous things

from my book, Anecdotes Regarding Adalaide

Love is a many wondrous things:

 It’s the air in your lungs, the beat of your heart. 

It makes me want to dance and sing. 

It crafts my world around just one part. 

Riley is a heavenly one, 

sent from above to bring joy to the earth.

 Riley is the fire beneath my stone, 

Taking over my house by warming the hearth.

Love makes you blind, blissfully;

It protects you from dangers so you don’t feel the grief.

Love wraps you in its arms and gives a squeeze.

It guards you from the knife. It is the shieth.

Love is like hope when it rings;

It’s the signal that brings a new start.

Love is a many wondrous things.

It’s the air in my lungs and the beat of my heart.

the bridge's end

From my book, Anecdotes Regarding Adalaide

Deep in the woods, there’s a wooden bridge over the creek.

The bridge is kind of old, the creek not so deep.

I was at the creek with two of my new friends.

We’d decided to explore and find the bridge’s end.

It led us to the midst of an ecosystem;

A hidden world we could only glimpse in.

And hidden from the outside world,

I had a dream begin to unfurl.

This would be where I’d meet my lover,

Where we’d hide from the world with only one another.

This hidden oasis would be our meeting place,

Where just he and I would choose to waste our day.

In the midst of the trees, I’d wait for him,

For when I’d hear him coming and my head would spin.

Here on this bridge, I’d have true peace.

To be young, in love, and rid of anxieties.

I’d know that he’d come and be on time.

I’d be in his arms and he’d be mine.

Away from the world, we’d spend our afternoon

Whispering sweet nothings, making our own tune.

In our own secluded corner, I’d feel such bliss.

He’d pull me closer, I’d steal a kiss.

Oh to be in love in spring, summer, or fall;

To have my own happiness, my own beck, and call.

My little hidden world is in my mind, scattered to the wind

For right now, I’m busy looking for the bridge’s end.

The Old You

It made me sad when you called the old you chubby.

You said it with a laugh but you looked haunted honey.

One little word and you became so mean

About the boy I had a crush on when I was seventeen.

So what if you got fit and you still have good advice?

I miss the boy who used to be genuienly nice.

Your absent-minded stares make me wish I were dead

Or at least back in the old days of you inside my head.

You don’t pay any rent and I didn’t use to mind.

I just wish you were kinder to the boy I used to find

So golden covered and when I look in the rearview

I realize that life sucks now because I still miss you.

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Flowers Upon My Breastbone

We tend to fixate on what we love about ourselves. Girls with small waists are more likely to keep their stomachs uncovered. Boys with well-groomed hair are the ones who mess with it. Women tend to show off their nails, hair, and chest with a sort of air. They adorn themselves with gold, accenting their perfections, drawing attention to the beauty they hold. Men, on the contrary, often boast their hard-earned scars. They’re veterans making medals out of a crooked nose. The more we survive the more proud we are, while those with smaller traumas ten to hide away their shameful marks. We should feel strong for having survived. If we display what we deem best to those who view hardships as something wrong with themselves, they may proudly use their healed wounds as a form of adornment. It matches their proud smile, making their whole seem brighter. Their scars make them lighter or dragged down.

Now that I’ve explained how we use our bodies to show how we love ourselves, let me explain how I adorn myself. I’d wear nothing but a dress of silk and a plethora of flowers. With fabric blessing my form and petals woven in my hair, I’d place flowers upon my breastbone for all to see. Not that I long to show people my chest, though that wouldn’t be a shame. The skin there’s soft and the bone adds some beauty, but it’s what’s beneath I’d rather show off. My heart has gone through more than my body (and my body’s a constant warzone). It’s been broken and stitched back together more times than it should be able. If people could see the scars from the tatters they’d know how much U hide. I, however, won’t wear a crown of flowers to draw attention to my battered mind. I’m a champion of afflictions, a survivor of myself. But I clothe myself with softer reminders of the way I now blossom.

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My most recent book is now out!

Anecdotes Regarding Adalaide is a collection of poems about a young woman named Adalaide as she battles with the highs and lows of life and falling in and out of love.

I could not be more excited for this release, especially since it was my first time writing a character without using any pronouns so the reader can picture Riley however they want to 💕💕

Get it here!

"Role Model"

from my book "The Way I Felt: A Collection of Poems From My High School Years"

I remember when you used to be my role model,

When the respect I had made my common sense topple.

And I remember how it felt when you disappeared.

I remember when I always sought you first,

Asking silent questions for answers I never heard,

And I forget what it was like with you here.

Now you’re just the mother of a friend.

Not a saint, or a savior, or a godsend.

You didn’t keep it up, ask or care,

And I don’t see you anywhere.

What happened to the overflowing well I knew of?

The one so eager to fill my cup.

Did you run dry or just stop?

I know dependence isn’t something I need to be okay,

But I could use a prop-up just for today.

I guess I’ll never get to the top.

Now you’re forever away and long gone.

I guess you’ll never be honored with this song.

I hope you know I remember your name,

But now my life is more of the same.

To make an impact, you have to pursue.

Don’t give up on me; I need help too.

There’s revival; I wanna be renewed.

But it’s too late to get that from you.

For more, check out my Instagram

"Losses"

I think I’ve been disappointed by everyone I know

So I fall in love with acquaintances, making them my hope.

It’s hard to watch your pinned-up hopes leave for college.

It’s harder to know they might never get the message.

With them, I thought I deserved a scene,

They were graceful and ignored me, I took it as mean.

They meant so much to me. Then they left.

They showed me little emotions and I felt the theft.

for more, check out my Instagram

"love and lonliness"

from my upcoming book, Anecdotes regarding Adalaide.

What is love without loneliness?

Love itself brings us sadness.

Love in its absence makes you feel empty.

Love at its peak becomes your everything.

During a honeymoon, you may look out past the balcony

And fathom your joined future as you gaze upon the city.

All the world could hold your eyes

But it’s your lover who’s on your mind.

Even when they’re absent your thoughts find them.

They roam about your head on any given whim.

Sometimes lovers leave and saddle you with grief

Or they change and make you wish they would leave.

But all those fresh emotions spawn from love.

If you let it go it won’t come back much like Noah’s dove.

So you ache in either grief or joy.

Love can fill your soul or leave a void.

It can give you sorrow or bliss.

Truly, you wouldn’t know love without loneliness.

For love becomes sweeter after a bitter taste

But it can also vanish without a trace

for more poems, check out my Instagram

"Facade"

There is no joy in lifeless things like lifeless tulips in emergency wings.

There are places where nothing grows amidst the trials, toils, and woes.

Yet we paint it yellow so all is bright against the dimming of the light.

To some, the change is liked. It’s a counterbalance to the pale white.

But for others, it’s a facade that smiles at you and gives a prod.

It’s another sign of faux cheer that makes this normalcy seem weird.

There’s nothing real about fake colors just like how some partners are not lovers.

The uncanny valley is a hard line to toe but there's nothing lovely about even tones.

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"Maybe"

From my book "The Way I Felt" (check it out here)

Maybe I’ll amount to nothing.

Maybe one day, I’ll just die.

Maybe I’m just a waste of ink and graphite.

Maybe all I ever do is lie.

Maybe I’ve ruined every relationship.

Maybe the voice is right: I’m truly alone.

Maybe I’ll get a thousand cats.

Maybe I’m waiting by the phone.

Maybe you hate me like “I hate you.”

Maybe this burning feeling gets stronger.

Maybe the rumors you started are true.

Maybe my past lasts longer.

Maybe tomorrow I stay in my bed.

Maybe I never wake to begin.

Maybe my sleep will last a thousand years.

Maybe I’m gone and won’t be missed.

Maybe my curse will last forever.

Maybe I’m not trying to get better.

Maybe I did this to myself.

Maybe you’ll send me a letter.

Maybe one day I’ll be happy.

Maybe one day I’ll be okay.

Maybe I’ll make it: I’ll be alive.

Maybe someday I’ll come out to play.

For more, check out my Instagram

"A Pondering"

I often feel I’ve lost some kind of connection.

I fall in love with people, make them my obsession.

But now I wonder if I’d go too far

Just to keep a relationship from falling apart.

I’ve never been in love, just infatuated.

I feel many things strongly, like love and hatred.

If I ever fell into the abyss,

Would I cross a line, would there be something I’d miss?

Could someone love me if they had to calm me down?

Would they bother to save me or just let me drown?

What if my next boyfriend is unstable like me, too?

Could I fix him or just try and be the glue?

I did that last time and we were messed up.

And then we fell apart when he fell in love.

But what if I was on the flipside?

If my love’s too strong, will he try to deny?

Would he keep me safe when my head’s not sound

Or will we too be doomed at the starting round?

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"Entanglement"

from my upcoming release, Anecdotes Regarding Adalaide.

There’s a sort of entanglement within me.

Every line leads to one fountain.

One reaction for twelve million problems

But I cannot see them each clearly…

I don’t know why I’m crying.

Almost feels like I constantly need fixing

but I can never achieve healing.

Is it me or is it the environment

that keeps me from being happier?

Am I really the problem?

Am I wrong to be wanting satisfaction

from the people who are important?

No. Friends should make you feel loved, so should lovers.

So I feel alone by their accord.

But it can’t all be that bad…

Entanglement; many messes connected

in a jumbled knot of tangled cords.

Also, see; multiple problems causing a

Breakdown due to the intensity

of the emotions you feel.

For more poems, check out my Instagram

"Can You?"

from my book, "The Way I Felt: A Collection of Poems From MY High School Years" (Check it out here!)

Can you imagine being nailed to a tree?

To blow in the wind like a simple leaf.

Can you imagine making that your fate?

To hang there in agony and patiently wait.

Would you do something like that for me,

Let yourself ache for all to see?

To have a public death for the greater good,

To hear of a better day coming and believe it could.

Can you give up what you scarcely have?

Would you do it for your mom or dad?

Would you feel your life fade away?

Would you even lift your head to say:

“Have patience, have peace.

Care for those, even the least.”

Maybe you can’t imagine it,

But that’s the throne on which my savior sits.

That’s the price He chose to pay

For us to have that better day.

Happy Easter Everyone! (For more, check out my Instagram)