Todayi look in the Mirrorand this is what i Seeall my InsecuritiesStaring back at me.nothing will ever be good enoughnothing will ever work outbecause even if i knowthere is always all this Doubt.i see Desperationi see Panici see Lonelinessi see Doubti see me.
UntitledHe's a hurricaneIn the desert.He brings much need water for lifeBut leave destruction in its wake.This is what you do to meYou bring me comfortYou make me feel secure.Then you leave.You break whats left of my heart.
What Do I Do?Someone help meI'm drowning in emotion.No release.No air.I feel so alone.I have for awhile.Please help me.I dont know where to turn.Its like sitting in a lone chair"In the dark.An empty room likeMy empty heartLovers stop but they never stayThey dont look backAs they drive away."
I Want Everyone To Like Mei want to beWhat everyone needs me to be.I know i disappoint alot of peopleAnd it tears me apart.I want you to like me.I want everyone to like me.If you liked me, maybe you'd stayMaybe then i'd never be alone.
I Was YoungI thought i needed you,That no one would want me the way you do.I prayed you'd never leave,Because you were my everything.But you're gone again,And i've grown up.I dont need you!I never did.You werent my everything.And you never should have been.I dont love you!But really i do.I love you because...You made me grow up.You were there for me like no one has ever been.You were my best friendAnd i love you for that.No one should be your world.They should only be a big part of it.If they are your EVERYTHINGChances are.. Its just infatuation.
Lately I've Been..Lost in a world of hate,I have no where to turn.Living in a home full of hurt,I never feel safe.Loving with a broken heart,I am vulnerable and scared.
WineHead on a patisserie tablewith a wine-scented napkinthat I scrawled your name all overin the hopes it might necromanceor just romance youto this place, at this time,so we could be together againand although the guitarist knowsthat I'm broken beyond blueI keep reaching for the bottlein the hopes it might recreateor just replicateyou.
ElenaElena followed me homefrom work one nightand stayed for tea and eggs,and all that minimum wageand wars between the sheetscould bring.She said she was a goddess,daughter of a carpenterwith her long red, red hairand eyes as warm as hazel nutson Christmas morning.Her hands spoke brailleacross my backand made the silenceof Sunday into a prophecy.She left one Octoberjust like she said she wouldwhen the fireflieshad turned their wings to ash.And I found revelationin red, red wineand cheap red, red fabricthat came off in my handslike summer.
I'm too poor to feel so middle class.My teeth still ache from the dentist,but it doesn’t stop me from nibblingthe cheese danish I bought at Krogerthis morning, warmed by thirtyseconds in the microwave. My mugof hot chocolate is too big, and Idrink it all. The washer is on its lastcycle; the cat is purring at my feet.Netflix is background noiseto clacking keys, typing a transcriptof middle class morning that I’ll latercall a poem or a turning point,wondering when I became such an adult.
Finding HappinessShe's burning up like a suicide noteAnd upon it's legacy linesScribed in crimson inkIs all her little curios of happiness.Before misery waddled up,Knocked over her correction fluid;Erasing all her joy in a blink.There's a tape recorder by her sideSkipping a death tone melody;The silence she hides inside.Should she stop.And rewind?Wipe her days of self-pity and hateUntil she can record a new songUpbeat to a happy tune of fate.By her crumpled flat dress,Glares wild, her knife and her pills,Though the sight macabreOnly sets her heart ablaze to chills.Serrated metal to barcode inA reminder of all her undying painAnd the dark she kisses within.Numb, she knocks back medicine,Her bus stop on the highway of life.Faltering she drops lipstick blade andTo an honest mirror she turns...What ever happened toThe smiling girl?What ever happened toHer innocent future?Tears fade to a calm stareWhich unravels a soulful grin;A u-shape of acceptanceTo new challenges she mus
the polar opposite of translucencycradled in the echoof a cloudburst,the earth curls invisible fingersabout my achilles' tendon& pulls;she cries that i am notintended for the clouds,that my mind must not wanderbetween their susurrous concavesso i,furious with her insistence,her petulance,untether myself from the soft,diaphonous comfort of the heavens& sink,down into the weight of gravity.listless green blades welcome my soles,stimulating a tickle,an itch,a sneeze; i never have done wellwith nature,but oh,she is calling for me,soft-tongued and crisp in herown shadow,& i am sorely temptedbut no,no--i am not for the soil.lungs listless,she becomes my inhale;lightheaded& translucent,my alveoli shudderbeneath her force--i am not for the air, either.mellow-skinned,i stand beneath her onslaughtuntil she tires,her molten heart beating beneath my toes;unable to woo me with her facets,she pirouettes,cloaking me in one last attempt,a final shadow.my pores bloom& i r
to the ghosts with you, my deari came not to be kissed,or to have myself cradledin the curve of a throat,but to be broken,to be diminishedby your lack of affection& over indulgence of sexualization.but i,uneducated in your intent,found myself left entirely whole& incapable of the furyi had sought to sow between theridges of my aching ribs.
Thy Fallen AdamO father, thou hast forsaken me.Thou hast breathed essenceInto these corpse lungs, and yetThou had cast me outInto this cold black with no regret.Why dost thou shudder so father?Thine eyes were the first IBore witness to in mine blossom.'Ere did that grace of life ebb within;Yet thou did but blench and lookNo more upon thy creation no farther.Dost thou have stomach to embrace?O father, I ought to have been an angel,But alas thou hast sewn a villain's faceTo hide mine internal beauty.O father, why thou elude me of love?Thou elude my diabolic presenceWith thy Prometheus hands, and stillThy plague am I to thouIn pestilence dire I maketh thou ill.Where dost thou go to weep father?Look! Even stars insult my frameNe'er did the celestial offer me comfort,Yet thou would dare mock too.Only shallow rain cries tears ever blue.Dost thou have conscience to behold?O father, did thou not dream me as mortal,But I am a patchwork of nightmares oldAs a mirror of thy own cruelt
she suffers melancholy like the plagueshe cannot raise her voice to reachthe notes that she adoreswithout the ocean escaping from her eyes,and she cannot kneel in prayerto the god that she tries to lovewithout copper staining the pavement,but she can scream into a room and not be heard,and she can deprive her stomach and not be seen--but oh,these are not the type of talents to be appreciated,to be loved without condition,and so nobody does.
i. one way to wake to dawnhalf the time i neverwake - i lie half-sleeping understars made of the flash of headlights on oil spillsand smell the gasoline-stench ofdreams as they try to breach the breakwaterof my eyes.insomniac, they say, and i justlisten, half-alive -scientists wonder why we need sleep and i can only say,we don't. sleeping leads to dreamingand not a single soul needs thatkind of disappointment, anymore.but sometimes i find myselfjust shudderinginto sleep, disjointed, falling through the rabbitholes found in zeroes of one o'clock, two -and as i wake toshimmering sunlight shining through theblinds, across the walls, i find it's worth it (justthis once) to watch and learnhow something rises.
About MeI'm weird.Yes i know.I'm slightly crazy.Its true.I'm super fun.Heck yeah!I'm a good friend.The best ever.I'm a poet.Only if you consider this a poem.