Say something. Say anything.
My mind is a war zone.
Ammunition loaded, open fire on my sanity.
We think we’re invincible.
We think we know every dusty corner
and boarded window of this existence.
We think that we are impenetrable.
Not even we can penetrate ourselves.
Until we do.
Until we find the one solitary loop hole
that exponentially increases to ten solitary
loop holes to fifty solitary loop holes to
such an infinite number of solitary loop holes
that you cannot even form a complete thought
because you know it’s targeted directly at your
own consciousness, at your own dignity, at your
own fucking heart.
We manage to discover these loop holes
because we predict their outcomes.
We predict the god damn future with our
careless decisions and our too proud attempts at
And suddenly, we’re humbled and broken
and irreparable because of our own fucking
psychic minds and our own naive
ideas of happiness.
And now we’re all lying in a pile of rubble.
Our souls ruined and tainted with no one
left to help us pick up the pieces of ourselves
because we were all too fucking selfish and
proud in our attempts at satisfying this
Then we wait the eternity it takes for these
self destructive ruins to lose their pulse,
to fade into an alternate universe of silence
so we can quietly slip away from this
until the heartbeat of these run down,
dirt covered left overs of ourselves finally
until we learn to live in the pile of shit we call ourselves;
until we realize that we are our only destruction.
My hands are kerosene,
igniting everything they touch.
Everything I cherish crumbles
I should come with a warning label-
"Beware, highly unstable and capable of mass destruction"
I once was ruined,
and now I ruin.
"Attention: Run as fast as you fucking can"
I am sinking, and I am grabbing at any hand
that I can pull down with me.
I will try to climb your walls,
and you will need to build them higher.
Do not be fooled by my tender facade;
I am capable of annihilation.
Hide your heart from my gentle hands,
for it will shatter when I drop it.
Do not think I mean harm,
I will have the best of intentions.
With my best attempt at love,
you will crumble to ash in my kerosene hands.
What is this all for?
Why force another person to believe they are not worthy?
Why make them look at themselves less?
It is no longer funny
when I stare and question my identity...
it is meaningless all that pours from your lips
never has it occured to me
that the words you speak are poison
that the life you lead is dead
I am not here to judge
I hate to fight
I want to fall asleep at night
knowing you all are at peace
but how can I love when I hate what you've become
how can I believe when your fallacies lead destruction
no one controls a single soul
you may label
you may grieve
but my fellow friends
what you decide may lead me to leave
I hate to say goodbye
but its the only justice I see
May you be you
and let me be me
with or without you
I will be free
I have learned this life I live is too short to care about your beliefs
I am cursed with a
and heavy hands.
my mouth is molten lava,
meant to scorch all it encounters.
I have leaden feet,
leaving a trampled path in my wake.
my eyes are desolate tunnels
leading to the destruction I will bring.
devastation at its finest
a carnage of all that once held beauty
a cavernous demise
the grand fucking finale.
There is a ubiquitous
that rests in the darker parts of my soul.
There is a fear so strong,
that it controls my thoughts.
It completely diminishes my capacity for
the negatives of my life,
have been pre exposed to the harsh rays of
too often to be developed now.
There is permanent damage,
never to be undone.
Damage that one can only become
So, I will live in fear.
I will live in fear of revealing
I will live in fear of feeling
I will live in fear of any person
that tries to touch my
heart. I will live in fear of any person
that tries to sift through the
storms in my mind.
I will live in fear of any person that gets close
enough to touch.
I will live in
I will live with the reality of my
I will live in
never to be rebuilt.
We are to watch the Throne...
Not stand by as pagans throw rocks at the Throne..
Talking bout there's no church for the wild
But last time I check it was for the sick and spiritually shut down..
Those with no self control..
Those that don't know their role..
Those that have gained the world but at the sake of losing their souls
Followers aligned with the Rock of Ages...
How dare I pledge allegiance to a country yet along a Roc nation..
My Christ all white everything..
No spot no wrinkle all white wedding scene..
Every time a soul says Yes the heavens sing
Do we really understand this heaven thing..
I am talking no sin..
Peace no need for protection
No violence..no need for a weapon..
One body no racial selection..
Christ is the way to acceptance.
Hell is the place for those that reject him..
Do we really understand this hell thing.
Flesh burns fumes of sulfur dioxide
Thirsty no existence of hydroxide
Feel pain like death but cannot die..
Like swallowing a grenade destruction of your insides..
Heaven and Hell two completely different places..
Different thrones ..
Bliss versus eternal pain
Taking hollow tips to the dome .
Over and over again
An eternal spin cycle of torment..
We all are created with a purpose but it lays dormant..
Its sleep imagine purpose snoring..
Christ the alarm clock imagine purpose soaring . .
To some this poem is boring..
Its not about me or you, its about Gods glory...
Now I speak truth no stories.
God loves me he gives out the authority
So if I die today ..
With my footprints erased..
God creates everything I can surely be replaced..
I cling to Heaven.. Reject Hell ..
Live on earth
Walking with God..
You know there's two births..
With him two life's
Through Christ the only true right.
Watch the throne day and night..
I trust Faith and question my sight
Vaulting canyons soar on high
Shadows vast in orange sun,
Expedition treads the stones
Of exploration Mars begun.
Shifting sands in freezing breeze
Desolation’s red extreme,
Lifeless in the breathless air
As yet, no living thing be seen.
Found beneath the rust red plain
Of ancient planet Mars afar,
The relics of an ancient tribe
Of humanoids who fled the star.
Humanoids so far advanced,
Far beyond our knowledge bounds,
Far beyond our comprehension’s
Grasp of that which now, confounds.
Far advanced but still despaired,
Despite the organisational skill,
Destroyed the lakes and seas of Mars
With need and greed and get and kill.
Destroyed the soft green slopes of grass,
Destroyed the gentle surge of surf,
Destroyed tomorrow’s promised day
With need and greed, for what they’re worth.
Buried deep within the sands
Soaring spires of cities great,
Skeletons of millions caught
By greed’s black devastation’s hate.
Greed’s black hand which gambled all
On fate’s capitulated stand,
To smite the delicacy of
This planets eco-balanced land.
Mars collapsed with quick accord
The atmosphere constricted, cold.
Vegetation died en masse
Population withered old.
A frantic few survived to flee
With silver ark to virgin Earth,
(Where dinosaur now roam the shores),
To resurrect a new rebirth.
A new rebirth in promised land
Where old mistakes should not be made,
Where simple rules shall stay the hand
Of they who walk in light and shade.
A new rebirth on planet Earth
Will guarantee a life of gold
To future generation’s child
Who shall, (we promise), grow, safe, old.
Alas- a promise poorly met
A stipulation we decree,
We who stand at ruin's gate
And planetry destruction see.
We, the children's children's child
Who stand in rust red, windblown sand,
Who look towards our distant Earth
Now do declare your promise bland.
On the eve of man’s great push to planet Mars.
25 May 2013
Three seventy-five. At my current muscle weight, that’s the amount of force, in pounds, with which my fist smashes into my opponent’s face. Flesh molds against my knuckles, vessels rupture under the impact; I am that unstoppable object, that destruction you can only watch. I am that confused, hurt, angry child. I channel it through my arms, conduct it through my knuckles, watch it spark and jump from fist to cheekbone. This is the therapy I so wantonly crave, so needed. The only place I can vent the full wrath of my frustration upon the world; or…at least, a single member of it….
Jump back three days.
Why can’t I see you more? I text her. Because I don’t want a relationship. She says. I don’t need a relationship. I just want to see more of you. I tell her. I’m afraid I’ll invest too much. She says. I don’t understand. Is that a bad thing? Seven years of friendship, two of off-on dates and rendezvous. How could you get more invested? What else can you spill after your hearts in a pool at my feet?
I drank a lot that night.
Jump back four days.
I’m coming out that way. What are you doing tonight? I always initiate…everything. Always the first question, the first proposal, the first, the first, the first. Am I that threatening? Going out with friends. Homework and going out is all this woman seems to do. Maybe one less night with friends, one more with me wouldn’t hurt? Cool. Celebrating a birthday with friends, we’ll be out and about. Maybe we should meet up? If I’m here, she’s got no reason to refuse me…right? I thought distance was our only problem. Maybe it isn’t. I don’t know. I don’t want you to see me stupid drunk. What a stupid excuse. I actually want to see you stupid drunk. I will at some point if we keep things up.
Long story short, a guy she sometimes fucks is going to be wherever it is they’re going, and she doesn’t want to have two guys she’s seeing in the same vicinity. What does that make me? I’m getting frustrated with all this confusion and sideways talking. My group incidentally ends up at the same place they are. I don’t even talk to her face-to-face. I’m such a sporting guy. She goes home...alone, to my relief. I get stupid drunk with friends. But never forget to message her back and act like everything’s cool.
Jump ahead a week.
More conversations to clear up why I fill only one void in her life lead to more confusion. I’m frothing with it. It’ll be in my mouth soon. Wait…I taste it already.
“Let’s drink and pick fights,” I say to a couple buds. Two hours out, we’re sloshed and trading licks in a back alley. The guy that had taunted and jostled me in the bar follows us out and picks a fight. Says I’m too drunk. Not worth it. I hide a smile, raise my arms, “Let’s see.”
Shirts are off. Left hook to my ribs, I pivot an elbow, deflect with forearm. This leaves his side open. I duck his wild right-hand and drive a straight hit into his open spleen. He hits the alley wall. “Still want to take a drunk?” I taunt from my knee. He comes back, still sure of himself. I’ll show you what confidence does to us, my friend. He puts up a boxer’s guard and comes back, more cautious. Friends and enemies cheer and joan around me. I don’t hear a thing. There are thoughts. Dark, confused, smashed together, waiting to be dealt with. I focus on all of it. I focus on his face. I listen to the conversations that leave me more hurt and alone than they should. I lean into a false waltz stance, he doesn’t notice the feet. I notice his. He’s more drunk, on less, than I. Every time you breathe, I hope you think of me. The mass in my mind flows through my arms and legs. I charge and he punches straight where my head should go. I dodge right, grab his wrist, snap in and pull out, stringing him in an invisible flaying bed; my left elbow crosses his solar plexus, throwing him to the ground. Knees pin his arms. The hate, and anger, and confusion, and helplessness dissolve between fist and flesh, arc across the pain in my heart and the bruises and blood flowing freely from a fool....
Never entice a man with a need to portray his problems upon a heedless world.
His friend steps in and plants a well-thought-out fist against my jaw. The one on the ground is down for the count. My friends don’t step in. They know me. I roll off him before his friend’s hit can follow through. Now I have physical pain to channel, too. I grin and my assailant isn’t comforted. This is the release I need. This is my way out. This is what will help. Fuck you, world. Fuck you girl. Damn all of you for your games and your feelings and your mysteries. To hell with why you think you need to hide your heart. Wear it on your goddamn sleeves. Fuck your dishonesty and your insincerity. Fuck your exes. May you all drowned in your lies and guilt and shame. Damn you for assuming I’d ever judge any of you, for not taking my love at face-value, for thinking I had anywhere near the ulterior motives you all harbored. My left hand grabs his left elbow, simultaneously blocking a right jab and flipping his arm out of the way for the full force of my right arm into his ribs. A cacophony of bone and flesh giving way to my wrath meets my ears. He yelps. Never yelp when you’re trying to be strong for a friend. Keep your damned lips closed, asshole. He recovers only slightly before my right meets his face. My arc is perfect: the momentum of muscle as it curves the natural twist of a muscled arm, the darkness of my life gathering on knuckle-tips like obsidian gems glinting in the dirty hallway between worlds of vice and vindication, the cording muscle releasing the pent-up rage of a thousand lives gathered in one body.
Connection shatters worlds. The horror of life bleeds across his broken window to the world. The reflection of my jeweled nirvana wink across his eyes. See the world I live in, failed rescuer. See the hopeless honor I hold in my bosom. Sleep with the knowledge that even when you try, someone will always be there to flash the dark, jaded realities across your eyes…and bring you to my level.
The other friends won’t budge ‘till I’ve stepped past. They part like the Red Sea for me. My ark is empty until I interact with the world tomorrow.
Brief peace is better than none.
There is this space that exists inside.
In between my ribs and just under my heart.
It's not in a place to constantly remind me of its presence there.
But it does get nudged from time to time.
It holds onto things I've tried to rise above, to let go of...
But never fully doing so.
Things like negativity and doubt and stubbornness...
Like self esteem bruising childhood judgements.
Like bitter regret of missing out on "I love you" before someone dies.
Like ignorant teenage decisions there was no reason to be making.
Like that secret you told and the one you promised to keep.
Like dutifully cleaning up after destruction since it was easier than starting over new.
Like the coltish grace of learning to be a woman without one.
Like leading a child with having no direction of your own.
Like taking that last piece.
Like hoping karma takes over.
Like waiting for a sign before walking away from toxic people.
Like throwing your heart out there with only faith and hope to be its wings.
Like innate fear of being alright with who you truly are.
Like disappointment for taking all these years to figure yourself out.
Those are some things that rattle around on a quiet and calm night.
On a night that finally arrives after strenuous days bleeding together...
They ghost in and remind you they're still there.
It used to terrorize the still moments when that happened.
No control over the flood of images and empathy associated with each and every reminder.
I thought it was in times like that, when drowning with the sorrows of yesterday was just as easy as an exhale.
But I was wrong...
I was mislead in my own thoughts.
Because when I was tapped on the shoulder by history.
It wasn't trying to hold me back.
It wasn't intending to maim my conscious.
I believe in fact, it just simply wanted to show progress.
To show the "then", compared to the "now"
How every piece of who I am today was shaped and structured in part, to everything I haven't let go of yet.
How do you know when your soul is weaker than strong but mighty enough to fight?
In being made to contemplate all the wonderful and fulfilling things and parts of who we are,
We also have to give credit to the dark pieces
The events and people that have burdened and burnt but never destroyed.
Like any balance in life we acknowledge both light and shadow.
Appreciation of the good in our lives is more fluid when we have proof of the struggles we've overcome.
Be it years ago or hours,
Seeing how far you've come from that which had held you under or has trampled your spirit.
It helps enlighten bit by bit.
And a step at a time is how we all move forward into who we're meant to be.
So i think, that space that exists very close to my heart but just far enough away...
I think I'm okay with it being there.
It may hold scars in the eyes of others
But I know scars are just golden reminders;
Of that which make us stronger.
For if one has no scars, what has one conquered?
I am so confused inside,
I can't even write poetry anymore.
There is nothing in my head that I understand,
I can no longer do simple addition,
and I can't speak.
Walking in a straight line, nope,
so uncoordinated, and I don't have
that kind of an addiction.
I act worse than a child
who was first born.
I am new to the world,
but I already feel
I've been here too long
and know too much.
Neglectedly I am loved,
and in kindness I am hated.
My emotions come in spurts of madness,
and all I can speak the slightest bit coherent
While I continue to scribble with
my thoughts mean nothing to me at all.
I am living in an upside down world
of opposite days,
I sleep at day in math
and stay up all night.
I am a child born bat
and I crave weak moths
so I might suffice living.
I'm too strange for love,
too sensitive for hate,
please throw your anger at me.
I long to be fatally injured
because being hurt inside
is killing me.
Don't touch me,
your fingertips are burning me!
Hey, here's a joke!
Where to scars go,
once they fade from your skin?
They stick to your memories!
Escape the irrational thoughts,
and jump into the river,
hide from the ones who love you,
the point of survival,
is not surviving at all.