every poem gets the exact number
of reads it deserves
<>

nah, I don't think that for
a millisecond,
shoot,
not a ****** nanosecond (1)

truthfully
I'm torn up inside
and my thinking
absolutely
could be wrong
or could be right
absolutely

just like the optionality
of believing in god;
has to be some force
of intelligence that
could create such
microscopic complexity randomly
or just thinking the world
is just a series of accidentally
interactions

so
who's to say what's good,
what's not so good,
and by what standard
one should judge

Is this a poem?
Heck if I know

and what sbout the poems that
get not a one,
a single one, absence of curiosity,
an unheralded execution.
death by silent ignorance,
a master's mastery of exactitude
all because
just because

Is that a collective decision
by an unconscious collective,
the best moderne equivalent of
the unmarked death

of just a single one of
your billions of brain cells (2)(3)

all I know is
that my confusion is confirmed
my constancy is inconsistent
my equatorial balance is
gonzo, dragging me down,
each division wants to piece me up,
and today,
right now
got no answers
at all

how do I define myself?
what categories do I fit
within?

and yet
that answers one question!

do not write interrogatory inquisitions
at 1:15 am
(unless you're a DUMB lucky *******
who believes they got
answers)

Sleep is a funny thing,
A place that’s hard to go.
Will she keep me peacefully,
Or smother me in my woes?

Will it be restful,
Or will I wake up in pain?
Tossing and turning through the night,
Lack of sleep driving me insane.

Sometimes she greets me softly,
With dreams sweet as honey,
Other nights she’s cruel,
Nightmares so real I'd give therapists money.

I lie there counting shadows,
Tracing cracks along my wall,
Begging her to claim me,
As the hours slowly crawl.

Sleep-deprived woman,
Navigating life’s maze-
No time to sleep when
There’s coincidences for me to appraise.

Everything has a purpose,
Can’t rest till I have an answer.
A tough relationship with slumber,
But ****, she’s my favorite dancer.

You found it meandering


                                                    ­            I walked it alone.


You said the Phoenix rises


                                                         ­        I am stuck in the stone.



    A common bird —
      With two wings,
     now



                   Tinged



                       That same old color

of the rock burnt out

                   of absence

                                                      of­ nothing —




of silence.

My comfort zone smiles sweetly, like cheese in a mousetrap - harmless, until it snaps.

Don’t you daydream
My skin touching your skin
And our bodies getting a new meaning

Don’t you visualize
My dark eyed girl, to get back together
Like a pond rising after a rainfall

But why don’t you realize
Every moment we were beside each other
Was a cheap date after all

~
Let me be your dark,
Your silent black knight.
Sleep, my baby moon,
Huddle in my night.

I'll wrap you around with stars
And every light I find.
Shine all you want —
Even if I fall blind.

I'll watch you from the heavens,
So as to not stain you.
I'll weep in gentle streams,
And bathe you anew.

I'll burn in the sun,
If it'll make you glow.
For your white angel,
I'll be your foe.

And when your eyes are closed,
And your body is sore,
I’ll rise with the ashes
From the red below.
~