I have no enigmatic inspiration
To provide any rhyme or combination
To accurately convey my opinionated inclination.
My thoughts are merely another fed up indignation
Towards all the people with egos far too high in inflation
To really understand what it is to have a substantial imagination.
All day long I write poems in my head
But they never make any sense
When I put my thoughts to paper.
leather of codes
child of no garden I want to be trash shining metal bucket streets
echoes of his scars crash deeply from his quick glance and words
his crushed inner faces blow by me like shotgun shells flipping ejected
a warm burn enters my ear and falls to the ground like pure seed
there has been a siberian tiger heart perhaps
a trumpet's bright coming tip in the night is his voice
but night has no color, only the air of space and eternal infinite collossalness
he has not been there, he knows I think I have been
his voice hunts in silence the opening of his throat
I never felt my neck arch as though I were angelic spinning holy pollen
my feet are broken from my birth's uncertain angles
my white skin is somber to me and it dreams of thick, muscular hair
his back hunts me like a prowling silent perfect killer
he has no meat for me in his most beautiful kind thoughts, nor ice
I know he does not want my soul, its irrelevance like bad country music
he glares at me his eyes are beautiful in their transubstantial wizardry
as though I a child with no hope to ever be less or more
this is the way beer cans bounce of cars better than wet silken breasts may rise
he has felt his lover's wine fully enter him in his sweetest moments
I am a child of no garden he would have
but thoughts of exclusion are often only private codes of want
his serbian tiger motion is utter but I am child of no garden until I can dance
I know he so poignantly relevant would in some fierce and mad
teach me of my father
that I might be coddled beyond redemption my white skin
he wants to giggle a soft stance or a minion of pretense
I am fully truly what he sees, yet I cannot touch him
he has no time for me I would see my heritage's murderous take
he knows I bow down to his conspicuous innocence
he has forgotten the child he knows I think I have been
he wears a leather of codes I can never remember
you're not him
and I love you more
for sticking through
when I was a bitch
and remainig to hold
my hand whenever
I get scared of big
wanting to delve into
the darkness that is me
I love you more
for being alive
I love you
i trust you to
lay me down softly
and not ruffle up
any bad thoughts
let your breath
linger on my skin
and watch my ribs
slowly rise and fall
gently kiss my head
I know I can sleep
safely in your arms
climb into bed with me
adjust the sheets
find yourself comfortable
and hug me to you
let me rest my head
on your chest
and feel your heartbeat
i love you and
I trust you
with more than
that the pain
from a heartbreak
can be devasta-
like the sting
of a waspt
at every little vain.
it is poison to the soul
and your heart
is pounding strong
trying to fight
the devil's work.
in your head
in your thoughts
you try to analize
what went wrong:
was it you?
was it her?
is there anyone to blame
or was it just God
and one of his jokes?
i don't mean to say
that we are entertainment
for the Lord,
i'm just thinking
how i'll see it
when im old
and think of how foolish
it was to think
that the older i got
the easier it would be.
what is love?
The smokey planetarium of the loner's thoughts
Spins round and round, as death, he lives
Drunken with his despair, he replaces all the stars
With gleaming clumps of barb-wire and broken wings.
They scratch at the planetarium's roof.
Itching the him toward the railing,
Whispering sweet nothings about the enticement
Of insomnia mixed with a little infinite slumber.
I was riding high until some thoughts passed by.
Saw a few pictures and memories flooded the very limited space in my head
Levees feel like they're about to break through tear ducts, yet still afraid to cry.
But now, at this point there's been many I shed
Very sensitive connections kept us together.
You couldn't speak English, but still spoke through your action
Came by my side during storms that I could not weather.
I wish I knew how fast your time was passing
Sometimes I took your companionship for granted
Often not investing thought in the moment.
Stood by me, even when life.. I couldn't stand it
Now I'm thinking about your fate and how I wished I could've controlled it
Anytime I was home, you made me conscious of your calls
Whenever I was in my own bed you made sure to join me
It's as if now, without you, I'm getting withdrawls.
A bond beyond brotherhood draped in comfortability
The week I house sat for my mom, will remain with me always
Laying on the floor depressed, not only because you were dying
Still get choked up, knowing we showed each other love, before your next phase
But to keep you alive, some witnissed to see how hard I was trying
Weeks later after I moved, I woke up in Nevada thinking "where'd Austin go?"
I swear I felt you, and thought you were there, even though it may've not made sense
Know you're still in my heart, and were always so blissfully pleasant to hold.
I still feel you, and will always make room for your presence
You were the one cat I knew that would actually just into my arms from the floor, on command.
You held on, never scared as if you didn't wanna let go
Literally wrapped your paws around my neck in a hug-like embrace, or should i say - little hands.
Spent more time together than most of the humans I know
I miss you buddy, and the feelings haven't changed.
Some may think caring this much about an animal is strange.
Truth is we're all animals, and I'll see you at the next stage <3
Used to come naturally for me, until my world turned upside down
Failed my college English course
Started writing poems, cut through my issues like butter
Flowed from my brain like a one way train to a promised land
I don't even know what to write about anymore, I've become so dead
It kept me alive, I'd get these thoughts and have to put them down
On a napkin, on my hand, wherever I could at the time
They were my release
I don't know what to write anymore
But I'll keep on trying
Because maybe I'll write something
To solve this problem too
I don't know if I'm more afraid of the future or the past.
I don't capitalize "I" if I'm feeling low.
When I call myself the ocean,
it means I'm crying.
Half my phrases are made up
about things I see
but don't understand.
I'm a jungle-gym.
Thoughts climb me
pull out my hair
Nestle in my ear drum
Sing until my fair skin
shines in snow.
I don't know why you still matter.
Why gravity hasn't taken you
smashed you on the side of its bowl
served you to your mother.
I don't know why
I still know what your door
sounds like when its opened
or slammed shut.
I'm scared because I couldn't handle it last year.
I'm scared because
the Christmas tree in the school's court yard
looks just like the one from my hospital window
I'm scared that you're dying.
I'm scared that I lost so many
that I dyed my hair purple
and yet you still don't see me.
I'm scared because September
lives in Seattle
and he's the only one okay with
me not shaving my legs.
it feels as though
everything is miles away
I've never been a runner
and I don't know how to drive a car
I don't know how I'll get there.
I'm afraid of trust.
I'm afraid to trust myself.
What if tall windows aren't enough?
Will the library be big enough to hide in?
Will my favorite color stay green?
What if I lose myself?
What if I don't go to India?