May this foolish boy let his mind wander,
O’er an impossible and pristine lake,
Pontificate beauty like no other,
So, my eyes can drink in all they can take.
I am sorry I don’t know you better,
Searing embodiment of Athena,
My motif isn’t even singular,
I have no motive in particular.
Just a call from my heart- so covetous,
I see your picture-perfect face light up,
Like bacons of fire, long since extinguished,
The smouldering ashes birth a phoenix.
Your perfect hair and the way that you stare,
Makes me wish that I was not here but there..

An ocean dying
to meet the beautiful shore
just a wave away

Why does he get to be happy?
when he should be knee-deep
in regret and repenting
from calling me crazy
and lazy
and blaming any fault on me.

Why does she deserve what I built?
when all I got was a botched love
or something worse than that
compelling me
to feel as if
I don't deserve anything
still ringing true
from his distorted,
gnarled logic.

Why can't I have what they have?
I guess the joke's on me
once again
and I'm left being haunted
by flashes of him in the kitchen
rendering me
feeling all or nothing
overwhelmed or numb.

Why does he get to be happy?
and surely sleep soundly at night
next to her
and dream of the future
that I once dreamt of too,
pried loose
from my unsteady hands.

I want his hair
I want his eyes
I want his features to be mine.

I want his friends
I want his girl
I want to live his life.

I want to be him,
Because he has her
She makes the world go round
But he doesn't even notice her.

He ignores her.
I adore her,
Does she know I exist?

I would treat her better,
I would make her my world,
If she would only know I exist.

I see the way she looks hopelessly at him,
Eyes full of love.

How I wish I had her love like that
Even her attention would be a marvel to me.

But oh, I cannot have her.
I cannot have her
Nor her words,
Nor her touch or her gaze.

I cannot have her eyes look upon me with that love which she so willingly gives to someone else.

I could never be the apple of her eye,
But here I remain.
I will sit and wait, a lowly apple in the orchard,
Longing for the day when she finally picks me.

Given a way into the sky,
I don't think I'd fly.
Why should I?
My legs would be useless.

Given a place way out in space,
I'm not sure I'd take.
The change it would make
On my body.
Oh the changes.

   Heaven is peace, Destruction is fate
And both are the same,
Up in that place.

Nothing out there is inherantly bad
Only down here
Can destruction be sad.

Life is so precious,
Covet it so,
Then multiply and smother
The planet we own.

Noone cares but us.

I have always loved to write
It is a passion and a burden
These flames that reside within me
Burn me raw with envy
The talent I see in others
Rips me apart with yearning
For more
I crave to be beautiful
In these sentences I string
But these words do not feel real
They are but letters on a page
Easily destroyed and forgotten
Yet the works of others are timeless
They exist in another dimension
One that does not age
For they are the gods of poetry
And I am only a mortal
That dreams to be in the heavens