our love was the look you gave me -
full of longing -

controlling me with your voice
and your legs,

until i collapsed, wild and hungry,
desolate and content,

every heartbeat seeking love,
every dream imagined.

I forgot
what you look like
in that party.
But I'll never forget
the pain
of realizing the extent
of my incompetence
on having a picture
with you.

your eyes are pulling me closer
while my head understands
you're not good for me

loving you shouldn't scare me
but it does anyway
especially since I know
I can't push you away

After I looked at the sun
I could see nothing else

My heart beat so fast in aversion!
Bleeding in green and white!
If hatred eliminate men,
Then **** dry you up with its flames!

You took the cloud from the sky
Where else will it belong?

I heard that new homes
Are not easy to be found.

If you could read my mind,
You’d see a thousand papers
Filled with broken poetries
And deadbeat proses
Full of woeful verses
With mournful pieces
Of unfinished stories
That are yet to be written
And failed to be spoken;
If you could read my mind,
You’d hear horrible screams
And earsplitting weeps
From shattered dreams,
Kept in a nasty notepad,
Scribbled on a bed
Of bloodstained words,
Ringing in my head.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the shadows
That lurk within me;
You’d hear the bellows,
Screeching the words
“I’m tired,”
“I’m a failure,”
“I’m ****** –”
I know it sounds ******,
It’s pathetically foolish
And seems too *******.
If you could read my mind,
You’d feel the tears
I had ever failed to cry;
You’d see the people
That make the weak weaker;
You’d see the monsters
That consume my head;
You’d hear the hollers
That failed to be freed;
You’d see the heart
That still bleeds and bleeds.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the face
I’ve failed to show back then,
The face I’ve faked back then.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see a character
I had ever failed to become
If you could read my mind,
You’d be able to read
A book you never wished
To touch and read,
But sometimes I still wish
Someone could read my mind.

Myla and Bryson
I never would have named him Bryson anyway
Imagined them playful, smiling, loving
an essence of us
Imagined green grass and a fence to keep
The dog in
Imagined late nights, tv is the only light, as we cuddle
Shining on our family
Happiness
But there is no Myla or Bryson
Nobody’s playful, smiling, loving
There is no dog
There is no family

And when I met you
       I had no idea
That all the seemingly small moments
Would collect like raindrops in a storm

        I didn’t event stand a chance

Swept away

         But ,oh, the ride was beautiful

August burned quickly, incipient nostalgia
prematurely vanished, mellow and gentle
sea stone on the tiled table, cedar plank
with fish, sunset through the eye-slit window

thigh high in life and riding wherever life
takes me like a hopeless romantic

Yellow petals swept
In buttered popcorn piles
with resentful brooms

hopefuls
stay afloat
in paper boats
bleeding ink
as they sink
in a sea of stars

With growing concern
I struggle to write
a poem about our love

oh, but look at what grew

all because of the dirt
that they once threw

Her eyes
reflect my moon.
In her eyes
it's always full.

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

Monotony is my solemn song
Like the beat of tired men
Marching on
Can’t fight it,  can’t stop it, there is no halt
Head down, keep the time
Feet high, all in line
Let the current take you
Given in to the hive
Monotony will crush you
But it makes it easier to die

You ***** me bare,
crawl under my skin,
and worm into my brain.
In a blink you’re mine,
I’m yours.
In a blink you’re gone,
I’m yours,
still.

Both can ****
        The only difference is
                      Cigarettes shatter lungs
         She shatters everything

            I remembered the first moment
my lips pressed the filter
     as I lit it up breathed it all
                savored every smoke
       as if we covered up painful lies
        in a container of painkillers

The same way  
we used to pressed our lips
     sparked something between us
           savored every moment we had
    as if our love was a rose
               in a valley of tulips

Were suffocating ourselves
           with our own
              plastic bag of denial.



Let us recycle our outdated
                                 baggage
and carry it another way.

so I noticed that we both drink coffee.
just like anyone, we both like ours a certain way.
i like mine sweeter, with just the aftertaste of coffee there.
caramel, sugar, creamer.
i think about when i’ll have my next cup, and the idea of it alone makes me happy.
i don’t care what time of day i have it, i almost always have a cup.
i make time for my coffee.
it might be safe to say i think you like your coffee black.
you might add just the smallest touch to soften its bitter taste, but never too much.
sometimes i think you just pour it and carry on, as though it’s nothing important at all.
as though all it is, is just some quick fix.
like you just want to get it over with.
we drink it in two different ways.
i drink it slowly.
i note every flavor in every sip, i enjoy it.
i note the warmth it brings me.
i like it all hours of the day.
you drink it quickly.
quicker than me, at least.
you don’t care if it burns your tongue, or perhaps you’re used to the pain.
you accept it.
you never let it last, you move on to something else soon after.
i lay in your bed, watching your eyes as they skim the screen in front of you.
your mind is somewhere else.
i savor the moments you look my way, if even for a second, and smile at me.
i wonder if you even notice them.
i feel your laugh vibrate my bones, making the hair on my arms stand on end.
do i make you feel at all?
i reflect on it every time i drink my coffee.
i think about it with each and every sip, taking my time.
something tells me that you don’t do the same.
after all, it's just coffee.
but i put my all into this coffee.
i think you like your coffee black.

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 am all too familiar with
the disappearance of
things that bring me warmth
of feelings of home
of reminders that I am not
invisible.
yet every loss continues to be a
heart-wrenching surprise,
and I cannot help
but to put the blame on me
every time.
I am sorry.

i see the flyer at starbucks

"are you caucasian?
without mental health
and drug problems?"

wow
i don’t know the answer to any of these questions
is a jew a caucasian?
is the occasional *****, ****-slamming drunken rampage
a drug problem?
as for mental health
i’m a deadbeat poet and unpopular pop musician
i’ve got a job fighting death and boredom
and i just changed my facebook password to "eat ****"
my frustrations have driven weaker souls to homicide
but are these PROBLEMS?