um . . . yeah

Yeah! I love the Alice in Wonderland feel of the first two lines. And the shape of the poem on the page is like the spikes of music on a stereo readout. I think a couple of spelling corrections and a few commas to separate those sentences that don't quite seem to separate themselves naturally and this'll be sweet as.

there is nothing inside
no there isnt nothing left
i cant find
the things that we've lost
she makes her excuses
a closet of boxes
starves herself because
she loves her own taste
hedonistic empire
white man with no face
i hear poetry in my sleep
wasting away in solitude
no one asks me
but one funny question
laughs hysterically at me
fuck the priests in costume
with their polka dot poetry
wrting tales to her isolation
milk the dark of prosperity
i hate to be loved for a reason
you want to isolate it
make a project out of passion
manicured culprits
when the walls come falling
there's nothing to keep me here
when the roof collapses
when we all come falling after
with the plane crashing chaos
the people panic and i dont care
you think it matters
but it doesnt matter

you've got a lot of potential. i keep seeing these brilliant combinations and deep statements. with practice, you'll get even better. keep going.

I like the ending of the second one the most.