What I see
I might not comprehend
My vision could be
fogged till the end
It's hazy, It's unclear
I don't know what's ahead
A fox, a tiger or even a bear
I could be dreaming, right in my bed
I wish I could be
one of those that can see
with their eyes unclouded
Their vision clear and unbounded.

Don't try to understand
how a harmers mind works,
You’ll never figure it out.
It’s so much more about when life really hurts,
Can’t find the reason your down

Cut myself to feel good
The blade enhances my mood
The quick release from each wound
So the suffering ends

Funny feeling, hard to describe,
It slowly eats at your soul
Spreads and multiplies till it’s fully inscribed
Now you’ve got no self-control

Cut myself to feel good
The blade enhances my mood
A painful decrease withstood
So the suffering ends

Dark little secret twisted and sick
The marks you bare over time
A mental weakness that’s got you in a fix
Personal Jekyll and Hyde

Cut myself to feel good
The blade enhances my mood
Appease the Demons of doom
So the suffering ends

I cried all night until there was nothing more,
what good will I do as a heap on a floor?
I will keep with my devotion, but it’s just no good
I’m taking it hard just like you knew I would
What can I do with my broken heart?
I want to piece up our puzzle because you’re my missing part,
I’ll do whatever I can to fix our broken hearts

Using tape and glue and soldering us together,
There’s nothing broken that can’t be fixed: cried in my chest and whispered that I could fix you,
With all my tools, I’ll fix your broken self, with all my tools I’ll fix my broken heart

I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)

Bastiana as me, being this lady truly that you see,
Within my solemn being, I am a love-a living dream.

You can not keep me from the light,
I am always a part of life, though not in plain sight.

Have a few or two lily's and put them aside,
I give this to the well and cast the spell-bide my time.

I tried the name Sebastian on for size, no lie,
But found myself in love with Bastiana, I can't deny.

Bastiana as me, I know I'm Alan to some degree,
But when all is frozen in time-don't you know?
My love, Bastiana...why this name...it is the one true me.

I’m buried in a cocoon of stories
From poetry,
To biographies,
To dystopia,
And romance
So many stories
Of so many people
Real,
Or just figments of the author’s
Imagination
Sitting atop wooden bookshelves
Waiting for the right person,
To pick them up
And get lost in their story
For everyone has a story to tell,
Some are overly exaggerated,
And other’s are rarely heard
The important thing is
That we share our stories
Through word of mouth,
The internet,
Or in a notebook
To be found by future historians
Tell your story
Believe me, you won’t regret it

life
loses it meaning
when you know
there is no future

when we all pretend
we haven’t past
the point
of no return

hoping
everything
will go back to normal

why bother
life lust love
we’ve been given
a death sentence

i never intended
to take apart
all the pieces
you glued back
together

No!
No other word is more powerful.

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.

I see the lights through the window
Forming shapes in your ceiling
We lie in bed and you look at me
You don't say what you are thinking
But you smile and get closer.

I hear the traffic through my window
Keeping me awake till late at night
Too late to say what I was thinking
That time I wanted to stay
But left anyway.

The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.

your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about
you;

i'll cry a little more,
hurt a little stronger
love a little softer
because you no longer
make me feel sober

i'm drunk on the
memory of you

She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."

I wish
her scars were on my heart
and not on her arms.

They said,
"The most beautiful art is
looking into someone's eyes
when they talk about the
things they love."
And I said,
"Or looking at someone you love.
Or maybe, just maybe,
by looking at the mirror
is the most beautiful art
anyone should appreciate."

When I look at you,
I don’t see darkness
I don’t see rain
I don’t see pain

When I speak to you,
I don’t feel sadness
I don’t feel neglect
You always show respect

When I think of you,
It gives me strength
Because you’re so bright
My brightest light

When I dream of you,
I find myself in your arms
Right where I belong
Right where I feel strong

When I fell in love with you,
I knew it was true
Because you drowned my sorrows
And now I can see tomorrow

air whispered in the vacant places
"speak to me", I said,
"speak to me in your chases,
in your tiptoes as you tread."

I'm speaking, can't you hear,
the golden letters in the air,
when the sky is lucid clear,
longing, waiting, for your prayer,

I'm the dance on quivering leaf,
I'm in silent, sweet motif,
I'm in soft, crepuscular light,
I'm the velvet of the night.

Dear death,

I have met life,
He wants me to fight,
But I'm so weak-
So can we meet?

keep your eyes closed love.

           e     t      
       m           i
    o                 m
s                        e  
                            s     all you have to
                                                                ­
                                                                ­ l                  is to what the sound
                                                           ­      i            n
                                                  ­                s           e
                                                               ­          t

                                                              ­                               v
                                                               ­                         a        e
                             ­                                          of the  w               s
                                                               ­                                       
                         ­                                                                 ­            tells  you
                                                                ­                                        to do.

the night my life changed
i was wearing
a white dress
with blue and red
flowers

and you were wearing
well, actually
it doesn't
matter

the night my life changed
it was dark
and you were drunk
and somehow
it was my fault

Break my bones;
cut my throat.
Pull me open,
learn the ropes.

Breath me in;
taste the fear.
Shank my skin;
stand and cheer.

Kick my head;
let me bleed.
Unbolt my veins;
enjoy the read.

Gouge my eyes;
punch my face.
Wrap me up
in your embrace.

We don’t see the carrots to be cut,
We see the sharp knife that could cut us.

We don’t see the bridge,
We see the other side of the railings.

We don’t see painkillers,
We see medication we could drown ourselves in.

We don’t see the train,
We see the tracks we could lay on.

We don’t see the nice view,
We see the cliff's edge we could jump off.