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.
DownfallAnd in this dark harvest of seasonMy life has completely lost reason,For which or against to decide.All lost in a savage and endless, bleak tideIn sadness and in kindnessIn light and in darkness.In a boat made of hopeI shall sail to tomorrow,In a winding hurricaneMade of treachery and sorrow.There's a spear, endless, and colossal spear...Piercing, slashing though my head.Starting somewhere in heaven,Ending somewhere in hell.Fighting, burning, crying, crashing.Are the armies within.In my head they are all thrashing.On the heaven's and hell's whim.To be light or to be darkness.A perpetual array.It's not merely my choice,But the choice of the way.It's an option of the voice,It's a thin line of gray.Is it a choice forced by fate,Is it a pre-set time and date?Or a choice to which I myself sway?But here's our story anyway
."Nothing that I do will matter.As all things will merely shatter!"All my hopes thus darkness scatter,As it shoves me a decree.As it si
I think of youAs suns set afar and mountains flameAnd eagles, turning, turn to fireAsh cold, alone I lieAnd think of you.
All Hallows EveThey say that on this night the witches ride,that spirits walk and churchyards spew their dead. It isn’t true. It’s said the stench of hell infects the earthand healths of heated blood are downed. But Hamlet lied. The dead know nothing, the living less. There are only poets with blood-nibbed pens;souls hung between high heaven and deep hell.
air.he's asthmaticand when we kiss,he says itleaves him breathless,quite literally.sometimes loveis just two awkward kidsreminding each other to breathe,and sometimesthat's all you need.
leavetakingi.the world is brighter wheredregs of strangers' revels remain --i keep this half-light for my own.ii.i'll stay until the wind sighs a scotch-and-smokecliché, til the Muscadet's slipped from the lipof my waywardhello.(i know you're there before you do.)iii.your night is told inpatchouli-pulse wanders; mine,in whorls of liqueur-breath. comeclose and i'll find the warpthrough the weft, the trails telling talesin synaesthesia --Platinum Blonde's been 'round and gone.iv.(-- closer, find syllables strewnin an exhale's wake; stolen from my throat-ful of careless farewells, spin and swayand beg you stay.)v.time enough for a kiss-and-never-tell, for a stumbling waltzto the dissonance of crystal-shatter odesto the summerlong i knew you --we were(n't) meant for more than this.vi.morning goes right through you,and breathes a thousand fortunes in-to shards of (our) stranger starfall.
SapiosexualI don’t know what I’ll dowhen the first fistfulof dirt hits the bottom.Maybe I’ll follow you to the grave.Or maybe I’ll prayfor a zombie apocalypse,so we can dine on eachother’s brains one more time.
You can't have it allbut you can have the glazed heat bursting from the blacktop like a brokenfire hydrant. You can have the jangle of keysswinging from your hip with each stride.You can have the tactility of leather and the graze ofbathroom mosaic tiles under a cold shower peltingbullets and when the water cuts offyou can have dry book pages. You can have happiness,though it will often be bitter, like finding a stranger’swallet full of pictures of smiling children until youreturn it to find that the couple is barren.You can have the scratches on the back of his knuckles,faded, yet raw. You can have the translucency of sheetsin the sun, silhouettes but no details,never revealing anything more than a fringe of hairand frayed laces tripping over themselves.You can drop obscenities like bombs untilthey don’t mean anything anymore. You can pull out the Monopoly boardthat broke your family. You can’t put it back together,but you can pretend the thimble is your mother and the
each one of us carries cemeteries beneath our skinyou are not the only oneto walk like there areskeletons underfoot,who looks both waystwicebefore crossing the roadbecause you"knew a girl who";you are aliveand you will experiencehurt, and you willbe so thankfulfor every painful breath you takebecause it's better than wheneverything goes quietand all you feel is exhaustion.there is more than justone cold snapbefore you enterthe winter of your life.there are spellsof sadness and rage,hate and denialof all that you knowand all that you deserve;and you are not the only oneto fight for everyday you are here,alive and breathingand striving to thriveon such an unforgiving planet,in such a worldthat births emotional desertsin its people;you are not the only onewho hurts--please,be gentle.
Not My Kind of Fairy TaleDon't give me the KnightWhose armor shines so bright.Give me the Knight,Whose armor is dull and broken.Whose horse is weary,Whose heart is heavy.Give me the Knight who looks at the dragon with pity,For that dragon has done nothing,And is just as imprisoned as the princess he guards.Don't give me a princess who only wishes to be saved,By that Knight whose armor shines so bright.Give me the princess who wishes to escape yes,But wants to free the dragon,Who does not wish to marry her savior--Nay, give me the princess who wants to explore,Who wants to live and to learn.For the years of imprisonment only made her yearn,Not for the Knight whose armor shines bright,But to see the world and live in the light.Do not give me the evil dragon,Whose soul purpose is to give that bright Knight something to fight.No, give me the dragon who is weary,Who longs for the freedom of the sky,Whose leg is burdened with chains,And whose heart aches for the princess he must guard,Lest h
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.