What's this all about .?

The brave and courageous , the strong and the true , killing them all for the good that they do. Persecuted for their belief in the son , the battles continue as the war rages on. Beating a child , making it learn ,to fear what is coming around every turn. Here's to the wicked , the grudge and the hate , here's to the cannibal and all the people he ate. Know this one thing and know it well , you will burn in the presence of the lamb down in hell.

Yesterday I could do it.
Today I can't
Yesterday I was awake, alive
Today my sleep comes easy, easy
It's easy to lay here and drift
To dream of better times

My friends, my supporters
They are tired
Tired of me
I ask for help
At every turn
I'm tiresome

In the beginning
I had a sense of entitlement
I still do at times
I deserve help
I'm a good person
What's happening to me is not my fault
But it is my fault, in part
There is always some truth
I did this to me, I know I did

But that doesn't change that I need
That doesn't change the pain
That I don't have the means to heal

I rise up, I take my meds
Like the good little adult I am
I go through my list
I need to call them....
Can I do it?
Not today

Can I do this?
Persevere?
I don't know
Yet.

I’ll just deal with the consequence later
right now I’ll allow my consciousness to waver
serving up a flavor,
that tentatively turns into a vapor
is a remedy I savor
along with the marrying of a melody that influences my behavior
as the intensity of the intended entropy gets greater

Dear me,
Don't just sit
Rise, and pursue greatness.

Don't just watch
Go after what you want.

Don't just exist
Strive and start living.

Don't just dream
Work hard and aim for success.

Don't get tired
Keep hiking until you get to the peak.

sometimes i wonder what it's like
to be a star
to look down on the world
while it's asleep
to watch the lost souls
wander outside at night
and look up at the sky
and smile
i wish i could be a star

Locations crafted by humanity
Fit one time
One function
Hence why we get uncomfortable
At a quiet school
An empty mall
If it's the exact same-
Why does it make us feel small?

I am the deep, the sky in reverse
I have what you seek, for better or worse

I am the blue of infinite depth
I've swallowed the crews and cleared the decks

You are afraid or maybe intrigued
Of the place where you played and also was freed

Kiss me now like you did before
Give me your vow and the ocean is yours.

They’d waited too long to say

“I love you”.

3 words. 3 syllables.

Yet they held millions of emotions unspoken.

and now that they’d done it, they wouldn’t,
couldn’t, stop

they told each other all the time. In the end of the argument and before the good news.

In the middle of the storm, even though it was hard to see, and after, when the raging winds had settled on a breeze

before the rising sun turned the sky pretty colors and after it flickered out and faded away into the dark

Underneath the stars that their love had been etched into

There was no love until death for them. Because it would never stop. Their love was beyond. It rose above any border that would dare to try and stop it. There was no finish line

because they were each other’s end game.  
-L.R

Why is poetry dying
when we still have the gift?
If we still have water
then we still have a ship.
We can sail to the places
these words take us.
We are still shaken
by the words that make us.
Why should we let poetry die
when there is so much to explore?
If only people read it
and discovered more.

I'd like to cut my heart open
to take you out
or maybe
to see you one more time

i cant
                                                         tell the
              difference
                                                                                               between
                                               rea
                                                                                      lity
         and dreams
                                                        any more?
                                                                                                    ?

To this day,
your name
still hurts my tongue
but I still say it anyway.
Sometimes I like to
hear my soul
gently tear itself
apart.

Got introduced to haiku today
Thought I will write one some day
And Today is that day

the heart is the fragilest of things
said she
yes, indeed, like a tea cup
said he

In the cold, dark
        of January,
         I remembered
              you
        the most.
  As the chill
      snapped bones
              like branches,
     as the afternoons
   bathed themselves
in gray,
     as the birds
and the backs
      shook,
so did my lips
   around your name.
I'm so happy
     January is almost
over now.

Dallas, November 1963
Fifty-seven years since they shot Kennedy
Everyone saw then live on T.V.
what happens when you challenge
secret society

Some say the mob or the CIA
Either black or white, but the truth is gray
and long since buried 'neath Texas clay
right next to good ol' LBJ

I ask not what my country can do for me
Blood on her hands, Lady Liberty
Let sleeping dogs lie, leave history be
The truth died in Dallas, 1963

Poetry runs through our veins. Meant for cold hearted people, whose hearts are covered up with stains.
Until pure love is the only thing on this planet that rains.

the soft ''i love you''
we whispered as you left,
will forever be burned
into my memory

tomorrow, darling,
you say to me ,
as you walk out the door,
and I drift back into sea

Eating my beyond burger with a fork and knife,
drag race in the background,
my Samantha doll by my side.
This isn't loneliness anymore.
This is just life now.

I'm not very good with words anymore,
maybe I never was.
So little has changed and yet everything has.
I still long for love.
I still want to be wanted.
That might never change.

Yet now this lonely world is one I've come to accept,
come to love.
I may be my only friend here,
but that's one more than last year.

Nothing I create is good,
but I'm learning to create anyway.
I'm learning to share my bad art,
at least it's art.
Right?

I dream of slitting the throat of the dog next door.
Someone outta shut him up.
I used to think that was an evil thought,
now I know there's no such thing.

I turn 21 in 2 days.
Math. Yuck.
I'm old,
getting older every second.
Whatever.
I will grow into this skin,
I'm sure of it.
Maybe.

I'm grateful.
More than anything I am grateful for it all.
The pain,
the pleasure,
the guilt,
the anger.

Pills,
family,
friends,
dolls.

No one reads these except me.
So this one is for her.
For you.
Anne,
my love,
my villain,
my biggest fear.

May this year be kind to you,
may you be kind to it.
May you listen to your spirit guides,
may you accept what you never could.

Growth is sticky and wet,
Knowledge is thick and grey.
May you be the light and the darkness,
the cut and the band aid.

More than anything,
be okay.
You're gross,
in a sort of beautiful way.
May you be okay with that.
Truly.




Bad art is still art.
Right?
I think so.
For now.

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