i'm more of the
jackie kennedy
in this affair.
i could never do
what marilyn does
for you.
because she makes you
happy.
I've got your eyes locked on me now & I can feel every drop of the hot pain pouring from them. You are longing for a glance returned but I am busy sending all of my loathing to the boy staring at my hands from across the fire pit. His knees are alligned with mine & she's lounging between them. I'm so sick of hating every inch of him. I swore I'd stop but his lips are bleeding from that bite she gave him and I don't think I can. I'm sitting on your lap and I know just what you're thinking. You're breathing down my neck like you're begging. I'm begging to get out of this life. For all the pain that I distribute, there's gotta be some feeling left for me but I can't fucking find it. . I wish I could love you as hard as I loved him. I wish I could love you as hard as I hate him. I wish with every fiber of my being that I could love you at all. I wish I could feel the butterflies that are floating in you. I could tell that they're making a scene beneath your skin by the path your fingers take up and down my spine. I'm so sorry sweetheart
My mind is at a standstill
My heart metaphorically stuck at an infinite fork in the road.
Tripple A has been taking hours,
And the longer I wait the weaker my engine gets.
Moments that once took my breath away,
Now are carbon filled memories that leave me gasping for air.
As the gas prices rise the less motivated I am to put in effort to keep this running.
100,000 miles traveled.
Within those miles lay love,laughter, and lust.
Things that now fuel my hate.
Finally a jump of the engine!
And we are off again.
We weren't broken down, just tired.
Two weeks.
Two weeks and she's gone.
My best friend,
My sister,
Is going to be gone.
She's leaving to Texas.
And she's happy about it.
I hate it.
I keep thinking about it too.
Like all the time.
It's just so surreal to me.
She has always been here.
She was never in a different state,
Never too far from me.
Ale this really hard for me.
My heart is being just thinking about you moving.
This is the worst thing.
It's like separating Chich and Chong.
Like separating a drug addict from meth.
Like separating yin from yang.
Do you realize how bad that is?
I know you have to leave,
But I just wish you could stay.
I know this is a really shitty poem,
But it just said what I needed to say.
I'm happy that moving makes you happy,
I'm just sad that I'm never going to see you.
I'm really counting on those two years here.
for the past eleven
nights I have been met
by a boy whom I
do not know
in my dreams
he has closely cropped
curly hair
the color of sand and
wears tshirts and jeans
as if everything besides
those two items is
much complicated
he shows me a place
in this world that is
not filled with hate but
a place filled with
security, comfort, peace
and a place where there is hope
I am sure
that I will meet him someday-
but until then
I should not forget
that dreams are nightmares
too
as nightmares
wear disguises
(2.36am | j.g.)
Whenever I look in the mirror
I'm not sure what I'll see
Because the person staring back
Isn't really me
The person in the mirror
Is nothing but a lie
Doing what people want
And mimicking those near by
The makeup that she wears
The fact that she's lost weight
All just makes her look like them
The people she used to hate
The way she acts and talks
The things she'll do and say
It's absolutely horrible
She's truly gone astray
Then the smile on her face
It's the biggest lie of all
Because I know deep inside
She feels like she will fall
So I ask you this question
And please, think it through
Is your reflection staring back
Still the real you?
i see myself in you
in everything you are and anything you hate
in the nervousness of your pleas
that brings stiffness to your neck - and mine
- and hides tremors from your voice
i have more faith in you
than you know;
more trust, in the soft longing of your eyes
than any of the pains you've commited
and your broken smile, teeth baring hate
for every single time you couldn't say no
i stack every murder under one flag.
What if
Your life is just a work of art
A masterpiece painted
By some big brain
With double-folding sentience?
Do you ever consider
The beauty of the detail(s)?
What if that weird coincidence
That happened today
Really wasn't a coincidence at all?
What if there are no coincidences?
What if when we go to sleep
Our brainwaves change
Because our minds go elsewhere
And it's best we just forget
When we wake?
What if reincarnation is real
And just at a universal scale?
What if life didn't originate on Earth?
What if there's something huge about
Deoxyribonucleic Acid
That we don't yet understand?
What if everything is a computer simulation
And everything above the first dimension
Is just a folded-up illusion?
What if we're not the only ones out there?
What if one time
At some random point
Along your vision's axis
You stared right at a planet
That harbored life?
Or even a star system?
What if religion and science collapsed in
On each other?
And what does this whole Eye business
Really mean?
What if the multiverse
Is more connected
Than we ever imagined?
What if God is a number? (a chuckle)
What if God is all the numbers
And combinations of them
And transmutations
And possible functions
And every algorithm
Every discordance and solution?
What if fate and free will
Don't really hate each other,
And it's just a game they play?
What if, just as we imagine characters,
Scenes and fiction
And paint them with words, sounds, and pigments
Our lives and interactions
Are painted by some society of higher beings,
In some fractalesque twist?
What if perception and emotional value
Are just the icing on the cake
And they are what makes life more
Than numbers and figures?
What if art
Is more than human?
What if the magical spells we once dreamed of
Have become our reality-
Songs, pictures, symbols flashed on the TV...
What if it really is like good guys vs. bad guys
And it's all just whispered above your head
Just within earshot?
What if it's not so black and white
And our only true villain
Is the stupidity of the mob?
What if it's somewhere between
Like it usually is?
What if we were always happy
Or always sad?
Would there really be a difference?
What if you could escape the circular nature
Of everything?
What would you see, looking down?
What if every system is circular
Because they're all gears
In some big surreal machine?
What if you're dreaming?
Wake up!
Nope, still here.
What if you're not dreaming at all
And it's really just that strange?
What if everything that could happen
Did happen,
And you are only allowed to see one of each?
What if the laws of physics
Are only so set in stone
In this universe
But there are others that vary?
What if the speed of light
Is the universal speed of time?
What if I'm actually dead
And this is just a virtual world
And I'm living through a computer?
What if reality is a very complicated computation?
What if I woke up as someone else tomorrow morning?
Would I even realize it?
What if one of my poems caused two people to meet
and fall in love? that'd be cool
What if one of my poems accidentally somehow set off
A chain of events that killed someone? that's weird and sad
What if gravity were as strong as magnetism
Or the other forces?
We'd surely have no planes
And getting up in the morning would suck even more
What if for once you were grateful and happy to wake up in the morning?
Ooh, got you with a tinge of guilt din't I?
What if the whole thing was a joke and no one likes getting up after a nice rest?
What if looks didn't affect judgment so much?
What if this is your very last breath?
If so, look out-
What if my imagination didn't have a bottom?
What if the act of believing in something
Made it true?
What if my red was your blue?
What if you could see tenfold more colors then most humans
Because you had an extra type of cone in your gene code?
What if the very fundamentals of science you were taught in school
Were mass-spread so no one could know how strange the universe really is?
What if the moon landing was fake?
What if conspiracies don't really affect you that much in the end?
What if there was an underlying pattern of questions and statements
Following a free-flowing logical train here?
What if it just crashed?
What if when the light went off on your webcam
That didn't mean it was inactive?
What if you had something to hide?
What if they're out to get you?
What if they're everywhere?
What if it's way over your head
And it's time to get out of the house?
What if Uncle Ben never got shot?
What if Tony Stark is just a friggen' badass genius dude wonder?
What if some levity never hurt anyone, but what if it did?
What if some guy was telling a joke, not paying attention
And he fell and broke his left arm?
I bet it's happened on numerous occasions.
And statistically, probably more if you change it to 'right'!
What if you didn't help that old lady cross the street?
What if the old lady never crossed the street
And she just sat there forever like a lost puppy
Doesn't it just make you want to cry?
What if you were sitting on that thing you're looking for the whole time?
What if your life is a TV show
It's all staged, Truman!
What if I'm not real
And a secret artificial intelligence project
Wrote this to test how convincing it is?
I promise I'm not but you have no way of knowing!
What if some of you start to suspect me of being a robot?
What if in some ironic twist of fate that made someone crazy obsessive about it
And writing it led to my very death?
What if I'm just here for the ride
And I don't have time to worry about things like that?
My eyes are getting heavy...
As much as they tell me
I need to focus.
I need to concentrate...
And leave the la-la-land dreamscape
Of my head,
I'm proud to even
I m a g i n e.
For My Sister
Doll face, what does it matter
if you're ugly as hell?
If you’re short or you’re fat
Or your face is full of pimples?
Why the hell should it matter?
Sweetness, who gives a damn
If you tie your laces upside down?
And your left hand smudges the words on the page?
If you break down crying at the sight of rotting roadkill?
Who is anyone to laugh at you?
Who is anyone to tell you who you are?
I am sick and tired of seeing your red rimmed eyes
I am sick and tired of seeing what they do to you
I hate to see you hurt and I crave the very best for you
I want you to be happy in all the ways you can
Let go of it all and crawl on the ceiling, weightless
Darling, people are messed right up
And we've all got cuts and stitches and oozing wounds
But don't let the bruised and beaten up punks
the privileged warriors, the wait-listed mental patients,
the scummy lost wanderers, the vengeful aching souls,
Tell you it matters if you're ugly as hell
Please please please
Understand you are so much more than a shell
than an exoskeleton of a soul
You are a glorious, bruised and beaten up,
Ugly, pimpled masterpiece,
And it's a shame that they don't see it
I put myself in terrible situations.
I wander,
Unknowingly,
Into a net of naiveté.
I let you pull me far beyond the trees
And let you listen to me talk.
And I asked questions that went unanswered
Because your mind was somewhere else.
See,
Earlier that week
I did something that lead to this very event.
A love potion...
Yeah,
Since when was that love?
I let you touch me
If only for a second.
But I guess I didn't push away hard enough.
I said no,
Over and over.
I turned my head,
But I guess you still didn't get it.
I should know better then to put myself
In self-esteem crippling situations.
But It happened anyway,
And I wonder if it's my fault.
You were my friend.
You've ruined me.
And I hate you for it.
Something happened to me a few months ago, and I've been trying to figure out how to write this.
It's bad but I can't think about it anymore.
