You know it's not just me
We all voted and the consensus was apathy
Paper-maiche homogenized politicians are so transparent
We just couldn't fake it without an alternative to replace it

So we collectively sighed stayed at home and shook our heads
Whatever if this is the best we can do it's better to do nothing instead
So we dig for books about faces drink tumblers listen to the sound of clouds too
Any sense of distraction after a fashion to run away from truth

You see we have cheap beer fast food pizza delivery
We can find adult friends online and watch porn for free
It's easy to miss love truth kindness compassion integrity
It's blinking on our screen but the notification is so annoying to me

So let's all gorge on twittering wings drowning in endless hours of shows videos and TV
Let's all fuck each other senseless in hollow loveless robot abandon
It seems we may have seen too many apocalyptic zombie war vampire movies
We're all terrified certain the end is soon so what's the point of making plans then?

By the way I'm no better and am ruled by nagging gnawing knowing doubt
I have no contributions or solutions just problems to bitch about
Can we both just quiet our dreams gently and promise not to discuss
Why we accept fate sadly and settle for the substitutions of happiness passed to us

Azrael Always James
© Copyright 2013

I'm working I tell my mom
staying up late at night as she thinks I'm doing homework
while I actually waste time on youtube and 9gag.com
search cultures, and histories, and groups
wanting to belong
and be a part of
a community, a group, find myself
and then I feel so selfish sitting in my room starting to pity those who don't have food
when the pity turns on my for having no sense of culture nor community
I go to school everyday wanting to learn about everything that I don't hear
about space and stars, histories, wars, and of people who belonged with friends in proximity
I can't work, I try to but I can't
I search up how to look more pretty and attract my crush
and then how we shouldn't care about looks from someone who loves to rant
I listen to punk rock, ska punk, celtic punk, and rock because I can't work
I play my trombone because I can't work but I can do music homework
I read books about history and stars because I can't work but I can learn
You can't go anywhere without good grades they say
so if only i was marked on things I wanted to learn
things I wanted to present for things I wanted to earn
I'm only 15 and don't know where this is going
and now I'm resisting the temptation to erase this whole non-poem that I'm to and froing
with info about my life that only I care about
while I procrastinate like most kids do my age
when I hear my mom shout
telling me to not stay up too late and that she's proud of me working
when I'm actually wasting my time and her dreams
so I'll get back to my can't working
ending this not-a-poem with something it's not doing- flowing

The street lights are rather lonely this time of year
Faintly glowing among the humid summer transition
They’re calling out the names of my friends and memories
Quoting verses written by Bukowski
“there’s no chance
at all:
we are all trapped
by a singular
fate.”
They drift down
Hauntingly with a dulled yellow hue
Barely noticeable,
Softer than a whisper and fainter than a feather
“I always had this certain
contentment-
I wouldn’t call it
happiness-“
Sometime’s I’ll lay under them on nights I could be out partying
I’ll lay down and listen and reminisce
Walking through this town
Talking about this place
We’re all hoping to become Streetlights

Don't listen to a single damn thing I write.

It just gets me in trouble anyways.

You are the whisper out of darkness  
Murmured through pursed lips
The dip in temperature
A chill that sits against
The brim of misting eyes
That hides in hopeless sighs
And I think I’ve lost you
To your ghost, your name
Hosts all these bones
In closest mocks me taunts
and worse yet
I fret that all this emptiness
Is just a mockquet
this is leading up to something.
A real piece of work
Titled regrets, lets
Reflect on your unsettling lack of subtleties
My role model , how sad is that
All dressed in drunk swag stagger
A fake front you called confidence
And vulgarity you called humor
I will swallow all these distant dreams
Let you settle in my mind then I’ll call you tumor
Call you tremor call you st st stutter
Call you all the words I never uttered
I could just call you my fathers mother,
But that leads with some misconception
I can’t conceive as an accurate description
So listen I’ll just end this in love and pain and stress
We’ll leave in silence and different pains in our empty chests
I guess we’ll be leaving holding our breaths and i'll just keep on living
with these regrets.

Okey, I understand
I’m not the most attractive person,
and my reserved personality
which would rather listen than to
be the center of attention.
I see the good and in some way
I fall in love with everyone around me
I’ll love the way you smile
or how you talk with such passion
about the things that bring you happiness .
I’ll admire your tears,  hurt
and what you show me
that are concealed from others
I love you in one way or the other.

They say,
Don't. You'll just fall for her over and over again.
Maybe you're not worried about the falling.
You just don't want me to strike gold.

She said,
Don't. This was my fault. I'm sorry.
Maybe it was your fault.
You just can't see me make another mistake.

You said,
Don't.  You're the most important one in the end.
Maybe you just can't keep me away from the intersection of HeartBreak and Stupidity Lane.

I said,
Go.  I have so much to think about right now.
Maybe I have one thing on my mind...
And that's to ask you to give me a chance.

The necklace on the floor
Under the unwashed sweater
You never really paid attention, did you?
Because you were laughing
When I tried to remind you
Still you never really cared to ask
Or even wonder why
I always took the bottles home
You’re always too busy
And you never see me
You like those songs
So you never hear me
But that’s okay
Because I like to listen
And watch you drive
And I like to smile
So you don’t have to ask
About the bottles
Or remember the necklace
On the floor
Under the sweater
That I left a year ago
Before the car crash.

she's six years old,
and every morning
her mommy would sit in her room
and braid her hair for her.
she's six years old,
and her mommy and daddy
both got home before six,
and the family ate dinner together.
she's six years old,
and her mommy and daddy
still love to cuddle
before they fall asleep,
their limbs tangled together
like twisted tree branches.

she's twelve years old,
and she braids her own hair now,
her mom doesn't get out of bed
early enough anymore.
she's twelve years old,
and she eats dinner alone in her room,
only to lean against the door
to listen to her parents fight.
she's twelve years old,
and her parents sleep on opposite
sides of the bed.

she's fifteen years old,
and she leaves her hair down
so it will hide her face.
she's fifteen years old,
and her parents rarely come home
before nine.
she's fifteen years old,
and she doesn't eat dinner anymore,
squeezing at the chub in her cheeks
and on her stomach,
the nonexistent gap between her thighs.

she's seventeen years old,
and she doesn't know where her father went.
all she knows
is she hasn't seen him since her birthday
last year.
her mother rarely works.
her hair's even longer.
she barely remembers
what dinner is,
and sometimes
she just gets
very,
very
tired.
she's seventeen years old,
and she's completely certain
that life
is too exhausting
for her to go through.
she's seventeen years old,
and she's ready to give up
and make it easy for herself
once more.