What if you’re running away
From the things that are meant for you?
What if you’re afraid
Of all the things that can make you happy?

All my problems fell away
When my hands were on her hips

Where does the camellia flower begin and end?
Of that I am uncertain.
What joy does the light of day, what fear does the night send?
Of that I cannot say.
What secret is there that cannot be told?
Of that I am not sure.
Where does my reflection go when I am away from the mirror?
Of that I am unsure.
The fox looks not for answers in the woods,
The rabbit digs and digs and reveals nothing.
But will the fox devour the rabbit.
Of that I am certain.

Sunshine's bright
Brighter than light
So sweet
I love to greet

Cursed from yonder to go on,

I don't want to spend my youth
Without
In order to spend my future
With

I am willing to throw my tomorrow
Into the wind
As payment for a better
Today

I will risk what lies ahead
To ensure peace where I am
Right
Now

The future is not guaranteed.
The future is not a given right.
The future is not fair.

Today is sure.
Today is a gift.
Today is what I wake up to every morning.

So I will not stop living
For the future.
I will live on
For today.

it’s a beautiful thing
this day and age
with bubbling permafrost
with drug-resistance
with obesity treatments
with technological advancements
with scientific discoveries
with silent wars
with blue lava
with bleeding glaciers
with divorce
with sensitivity
with my generation
of people believing
this new generation
is completely and
utterly clueless as a
common occurrence

but let’s think about
what these kids are
into nowadays.

let’s think about who
invented these inane
things for the kids.

my generation of people.

so the kids of today are
the ones who are ******
for liking the things
that we’ve created?

I’m sorry but we have to
be the ones who are obtuse
for believing such things,
oblivious for not
realizing them and
showing the world
we have
little or no imagination
anymore.

the generation before us
has lied to us and
thought us to lie
to the generation
after.

whether it’s the gods
or holidays
or what not.

the youth of the today
are autonomous.
they can not take
responsibility for
their actions nor do
they understand and
just go along
with the trends,
much like,
all the generations
before them
but we need a scapegoat
to cover up our own
farce implementations.

the truth of the matter is..
we’re all a little vacuous
in our own way
especially the ones with
an answer for everything.
living in an imperfect world
where there’s always room
for improvement
nothing for us
or against us
wrapped up in our
congratulatory
self-contradictory
and illogical theories
and as useless as
exploding appendix.

the lost generation
the interbellum generation
the silent generation
the baby boomers
generation x
the millennials

a strong admixture
of imbecility and
self-assurance
filled with belief
and unawareness
to a senseless world

like hate
like blame
like gossip
like jealousy
like being offended
like being impressive
like the punk rock dream
like hospital waiting rooms
like fundraisers and charity events
like your co-worker to the right and
the left of you
and their families
and their families before
them

our greatest creation
our strongest aide

to deconstruct

Your  touch lingers

Its that feeling of bugs in your bed
An unwelcome crawling

Bugs that go where they want
Taking home in the darkest of places

Laying their eggs as reminders
Reminders of memories i don’t have


Reminders of unwelcome hands
Reminders of the pest you are

You linger like a pest
But no amount of chemicals can rid me of you

No bug treatment can erase my memory of you

My nightmare started the second it happened.
It’s been nearly 10 years.
I’ve woken up many times,
but it has never ended.

Marble skin,
Stoic gaze,
Sculpted clutch,

Solid and tender,
To the touch.

Depth of character,
Length of reason,

A modern day Greek,
In exactly his season.

I could never try
To **** myself
Not because you’ll miss me
I know you would but
That’s what it would take
For you to notice and see
That I’m afraid to even
Take my life
In case it doesn’t work
And then I’ll be trapped
In shame and on Earth

I hate the way I love you
but all this pain pulls the sweetest poetry out

I know I won't get to all
but ******, I'm gonna try
thumb up to every comment
up until the day I die

I can't react to every line and word
but ****** I can try
thumbs up to ever poet/poetess
maybe no one has, to cry

I'm just a singularity
but ****** all too ****
we, as a community
stand up, and hear the yell

I'm not you, and you're not me
but when you see thumbs down
chime in with words and thumbs
chase the trolls, outta HP town

Like a drug,
You seep out of my skin;
The withdrawal makes me feel dizzy,
Unable to stand or support myself.
My mind craves of nothing but you,
I hate being sober.

we do not write poetry
we write mirrors
which are held up
to curious faces
who read
looking for their
own reflections

In life you go through changes
You can either grow with them
Or you can stay the same
No matter what you gotta grow to make change

Broken heart, broken dreams
Broke everything except me

i dread the day you learn
for the first time that
you can't just love all
the darkness in me away

and no matter how much
you care i will still toss
and turn at night and scars
might still appear on my skin

i dread the day you realize
that you can't cure me
and sometimes all you can do
is stand next to me and
hold my hand through fog
pouring out of my ears so black
and thick we can't even see
each other's faces

i dread the days i can't
get out of bed
the days you want to
take me out and all
i can manage is a prettified
shell of myself

i dread the day you learn
that sometimes no matter
how hard i try i still can't
pull myself together

the day you learn that
there isn't an answer
you can give that will
save me from my fears

you aren't the first person
who has tried to love the
darkness inside away
my family and friends
have given it their all
but someday you too will learn
that if love could
cure mental illness
the world would be
a much better place

Paint me a picture
Of your skin
Does it bronze beneath the sun?
Or sizzle and blush
Like your cheeks
When you’re in love?
Is it soft to the touch
Like when your palms graze
The smooth surface of water?
Or rough around the edges
Like your favorite book
And its lovingly worn corners?
Does it melt in the heat
Like sweet syrupy treats
Dripping through your fingers?
Or does it welcome the winter
With wide open arms
As if greeting a lover?
Paint me a picture
Of your skin

I tread along,
the lines of an indifferent verse
singing an unheard song
because it's hard to converse

I tread along,
a different way
shedding my own light
because I'm trying to stay

I tread along,
to places unknown
waiting for the time
when I'll be gone

I love him
I tell myself
I know that
We will be together forever
I don’t believe that
We could be separated
My thoughts tell me that
He’s the love of my life
Sometimes my heart lies and says
I could live an eternity
Without him
Like my friends say
“We’re perfect for each other”
And you can’t tell me
He’s not the one.

Now read from bottom to top.

Destiny, she said
My spirit within me soared

Destiny, he said
I heard the Lions roar

Destiny, they said
Together how they scored!

Destiny, we said
Glory evermore.

Lick my lips
Cradle my face
Gaze into my eyes
And tell me I'm safe

I have to keep taking steps forward,
  for if I don't,
    I will surely fall backward.

If I take a step back,
  I will shatter,
    from the weight of expectations,
      of judging eyes
        and of false pretenses.

If I take too many steps forward,
  I might just fall into a chaotic beauty
    of problematic situations.

I must not take a single wrong step.
  Not one backward.
    Not one too many forward.
      Not the wrong step, just the absolute right step.


Steps.
Steps.
Steps.