I don't know how to keep going on
I can't open up to anybody
They can get into some rooms
but I lock up parts of me
Isolated and dusty
I'm an island sinking into the depths
Of my sin, of my despair
I used to have a lot of friends
Now so very few are left
I hurt most of them right in the heart
I never intended to harm them
Haha, look at all the I's I have in this poem
Just so self-centered...
I never meant you any harm
Family matters the most to me
Then why do I take you for granted?
I'm sorry, I'm saying I'm sorry a lot lately
The weight of what I've lost is crushing me
Irony of something you don't have killing you
Hey, that's just how I'm going to die...
so easy, the idea of giving up!
so near, the thought of it!
to think of not writing anymore,
to hush this voice of mine,
to throw away the goal,
to let it all fall down around me.
so easy, so there.
to let the resistance crumble—
an option so real, how very simple.
how in my reach.
I love this
The stillness of a cabin just before it's inhabitants, arise to make the coffee and consume the cakes
Like a breakfast mess of scrambled eggs, so I am mixed, and stirred by this, the stillness found within this place
Like a body of water, asleep at last
Or a wooded edge on a logging trail, finally left to be and pass
So I am also alive and well, inside of these hemlock boards
And for but a moments time at peace
In a place where I can forget my more modern sensibilities
And be taken back to a different time and a different place, where the woods still held their persuasive sway
A power over me
How they'd cast a spell upon my mind, most every time, when I was not as tall as these
Outside and near a different cabin, built of and by my father's hand
But now, as I look out through the window here, it's there I see
Out back, by a semi circle cleared of trees
The stillness of this new good morning, in a cabin where I did not expected to be at ease
I had a dream I die
I ride a taxi into hell
I'm sweating but my driver is kind
He taps the meter when I arrive
Says, "pay up," gently
There is no tax
A flock rises from the magma
My eyes narrow from the heat
They glow as they sing
and cut me when their wings spread
Red hot and beautiful
Birds made of knives
Pave me a path to the moon
I'll walk the whole way
Encouraged by the silver dust craters
and white light.
It looks to be a gentle place
A place to go to close your eyes
A place to go
to have your face touched
and heart filled.
On the moon
I will be peaceful.
I will revel in the
weightlessness of it all
and store that feeling in my heart
Remembering it in moments
when I am feeling
crushed by the heavy earth.
In the meantime
while my path is being paved
I'll keep my moon dream alive
by late night star gazing
silver dust in my pocket.
I looked in the mirror this morning
but I swear I didn’t see anybody
There was a body but no one to fill it
Flesh and blood set on auto pilot
aimed for six feet under;
Black rings wrapped around my eyes
with a straight face
I Plunder to get to the shower.
Semi-awake to fill up empty space.
Because getting out bed is relentless,
I do it every day like clockwork,
but every time it gets a little harder.
Like someone adding weights to my hour hands
'Till one day I won’t get up.
I can barely make it to 9 O’clock
… in the morning
I look at the sun and start mourning
Because it means I must heave myself
Out of bed and pretend that I am living,
When my bed knows otherwise.
It’s smarter than I because it knows to lay still
And let the world pass by.
Humans are supposed to fake it 'till we make it,
But all I want to do is make my bed
So, I can go back to sleep and let the world pass by.
Sure, I’m a stand-up guy
But I probably only held the door for you
Because I fell asleep on the way out.
And if you say thank you
it will remind me to wake up
and keep me pretending to live.
No doubt I fall asleep all the time.
People think I have bad hearing
But I’m just sleeping with my eyes open.
If I don’t respond just give me a little nudge
And repeat everything you just said.
I’m not deaf … or dead yet.
I just can’t keep my mind open
For too long before the demons crawl out.
Thus, I fall asleep and fight in dreams
To wake up to your next sentence
More exhausted than the last.
It’s not my fault
I’m just a little bit dead
And a little bit sleepy
I'm afraid it seems that I,
Can't runaway from my sadness,
It is fragmented in my soul,
I'm tired of all the madness of
It is such a ridicule place
I can't keep up the pace,
With the race against our race,
There's nothing else to do,
Than keep chasing up the haze.
Looking up to the sky,
I'm yelling up at life,
Urging it to end,
I never asked for this.
The more I grow,
The smaller I feel,
It's time to accept that I'm
Not made for this world.
Time hasn't aged but grown together
The considerate man and me
Because I haven't forgotten how to be sweet
Like My Hoodie floating round your shoulders
Swimming in it
So large that you can wrap it around your knees
And warm as the arms beside my side
So it would be
For you I would keep even closer to me
Than the meal which I like to prepare at night
So you would always be there by my side
In a place where you would never need
To fear the wandering of my mind
Or the inability of my eyes to see
Because I am all that I try
And to me you would most certainly be
The only wonderment I would seek
To keep until the morning light