there is freedom in destruction.
let’s ditch this fake production.
opinions matter—so do you,
we need a reconstruction.

time is of the essence.
time will come and leave.
time will wait on no one;
in yourself you must believe!

One friend is depressed.
Yesterday was the greatest, and today seems an unwelcome guest.

One friend is afraid.
He writes of his struggles, but if you saw him, you’d say he’s got it made.

I am who I’ve always and never been.
Consistently inconsistent, pervertedly malevolent, and searching for something that doesn’t seem to exist for me.

I want to help my friends.
insert{[but statement]+[excuse]}

The sound of crimson rain descending from large, black clouds and landing with a vengeance on reinforced steel echoed solemnly throughout the night sky.

This post-demolition city was destroyed beyond recognition after the warhead hit.

Barren streets decorated with scattered rubble and the smell of decay saturated the night air. The radiation caused the rain to turn the color of blood; the blood of the millions of people that the projectile disintegrated.

Just North of the blast radius, a small, barely standing apartment complex stood ***** from the broken ground.

On the second floor of this hotel of hell, two teenagers, a boy and a girl, were quickly becoming men and women; their pleasure loud, but never heard.

Above them on the third floor, a woman hung **** from the ceiling. Her sickly body covered in boils from the radiation.

Two floors below, seven skeletons were spread equidistant from each other. The boy and girl had moved them surreptitiously after doing something with them that even I would not in right mind divulge.

The fourth floor was a horrible sight. A dying baby screaming helplessly; his mother and father lying dead beside him; they both shot themselves. The baby was born with six tiny, black eyes, and no legs to crawl. He’d take his last breath before the sun rose in the morning.

The boy finished his act, and took a large puff of a cigarette. The girl, completely satisfied and lying in blood, chose the needle. The boy followed.

It was their escape. A way to leave the pain of being orphaned by the war. Every single loved one and friend was slaughtered like cattle by the enemy. It was only them now.

This was their first night at the makeshift hotel, and they came willing to die. Together. They knew the radiation would overcome their sickly bodies.

There was nothing left to live for.
No place to call home.
Hölle auf Erden.
O night divine.

I will beat this.

Chocolate bunny fronts
And Easter egg hunts
Early morning church
And Christian research
A time of joy and sorrow
That carries to tomorrow
A time of laugh and cheer
That happens every year

Today doesn’t even ****.
It just wasn’t as good as yesterday.

Why do I write poems? Is it for expression? Is it for attention? For a girl?

Do I write out of a sense of obligation? Boredom? Pain?

Is there some ulterior motive? Something sinister and obscure?

Or is it that I just want to be accepted?

The reason why is always changing.

Do we watch **** because we are vile and perverted? Or maybe we just want to feel good? Feel something. Anything.

The reason why is not important. It is inconsequential. Trite.

Reasoning defies action, and action defines your character.

So who are you? Are you my reason, reader? Are you the reason that defies my action? Are you the reason I have no character? The reason I fear?

Or maybe,


The reason I’m here?

What is reality?
Is everything a lie?
Do we live just to die?
And should we even try?

What is reality?
Is it short and sweet?
Is there a God to meet?
Does it matter who gets beat?

Is reality in the air we breathe,
Or in the people we love?
Or the heavens above?

Where can I go,
in order to find,
this pleasant reality,
that you speak of?

yesterday didn’t even ****.
it just wasn’t as good as today.

I will wait for you
Among the cherry blossoms
Echoing your name

Sometimes life has a funny little way
Of making the darkest night brighter than day

We try to be amicable
When we know we are selfish
We lie to seem admirable
But there’s no one we cherish

This mask I wear
It conceals myself
I cannot bear
To reveal myself
This mask I wear
I paint it well
So no one sees that my life is hell
The mask I wear
It’s cracking at the seems
The light I’ve neglected so long
It’s starting to shine through
And maybe, just maybe,
I’ll finally be real to you.

The chaos of the fire,
It liberated me.
The cost of your desire,
Obliterated me.

The silence of my actions,
I never followed through.
When all the chips were down,
I abandoned you.

Let’s meet again
Someday, somewhere
Where the smell of new
Devours the old

Let’s dream again
Someday, sometime
And share as friends
About our hopes

Let’s meet again
Old friend
May our paths cross once more
We have a lot of catching up to do

take me in
six inches deeper
my cold blade yearns to rust inside your heart

feel my pain
before the blood dries
I want to be the one to drain the color from your eyes

Every tree begins as a seed
Every revolution is formed by a need
Any man can see the demands
But the legends of the future are the ones making plans

Chad Chandler camped circa Corpus Christi
Cuando comunicaba con Cristoph.
Christoph came calling, charging,
Contacting community control centers.
Chad coerced Chris coughing crimson color
Chewing cold coils connected, contorted,
Conquering camping copycats cooking cats.
Columnist Coolidge campaigned costly cottages
Coupled countering cowardly coverups.
Craving cream cheese, Coolidge creeped critics,
Croaking cringilly crossing crunchy crumples.

If I die tomorrow, I want the world to know I had a name.
If I die tomorrow, I want to know that you won’t do the same.
If I die tomorrow, I want to end it all on a high.
If I die tomorrow, I want to at least have told my friends goodbye.

Why do I always feel the worst
Right after I feel the best?
The high comes crashing
My silent thoughts deafening

I still look for you
You whose faces I know
Are you still looking for me
And will you stop to say hello?