In the branches
The sun settles  
Above pieces of
Frayed dandelions
While my heart undulates
With the wind

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)

eyes whom love the world
as much as had hated it
are the most enchanting.

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.

In you,
I've found an appreciation for the ones I've hurt
I've found a new reason to scorn the stars
For all their bright, unwavering light
For all their fragile grace they scatter upon us
I've found no way to leave my winter bones behind
To make peace with the new, and growing
I've found no reason to move on
And too many to stop

suicide is not an option
suicide is not an option
suicide is not an option
suicide is not an option
suicide is not an option
suicide is not an option
suicide is not an option

My words became
knives.
A paragraph,
a sword.
And when I
made
my first speech,
the room
                was
                        hit
                             with
                                            a
                                                    grenade.

The sky is so blue,
And the clouds are very white,
It won’t rain today.

You say you're okay!
But the ocean within your eyes,
Articulate a different prose.

I don't have blood in my veins,
but I have this steady, snapping beat,
I don't have a boy on my brain
but this chorus constantly on repeat.
because life just brings me pain,
and when the world becomes
just one big game,
music is the only thing
that understands me

to label it absurd
does not deny
the pleasure of the nerves
that lie in wait
of overflowing presence
pushing words aside
for better witnesses

when you understand my poems perfectly then,

their utility is inutile,
their usefulness is, will. always be, in the

nth  

reinterpretation, a million and still counting,
as long as you must guess at its labyrinth inner wired construct,
be pleasured by the roiled and rolled curves upon your tongue,
two lives (yours, mine), a paired wine tasting, we together,
believing in the greatness of joyous frustration

some say, as I do, the world is better for the
utility of thine own struggled understanding,
the truest combination of two way communication,
surpassed only by our at last armed embrace,
when at last we understand our mutuality of need and salve...

Love is like taxis
They're everywhere when you don't need it
But nowhere to be found when you do

you’ve stolen so much of my soul,
i’m still trying to remember who i was

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.

Today is a very sleepy day
And I am going to sleep it away
So please do not come in my way
For today is a very sleepy day

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.

I don’t know how to love you.
He broke me down like
the longest math equation.
But, in the process of solving he found
no solution. Only lost numbers
memories stuck on the chalkboard.

You say you’re too broken too.
But now you’re here.
Confused and softened possibly
afraid.
Definitely afraid.

And in this moment my mind
flushed with all of the feelings I kept in
my little locked box.
The cherishment I have for you and the
care and want that come along with
you. I wanted you. I want you.
But my brain tells me I don’t.

So my words are broken but my mind
is made up.

I want to be with you but you
don’t want to be with a
f—- up.

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."

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."

A tree falls in the forest,
and it doesn't make a sound.

A man yells in the forest,
and local wild life forms a mob.

A man falls in the forest,
and he doesn't make a sound.

A tree yells in the forest,
and we all run like hell.

When I say
that you are my Sun,
I don’t mean that you are
Luminous,
Brilliant,
Gilded,
Beautiful,
Bold,
Warm,
Or even the center of my universe.
I simply mean that
I cannot look at you
Without hurting

keep me in the
pocket of your jacket

love me in the
corner of your heart

dream of me in mantis shrimp
colouration.
think of me when doth
shatter thine heart.

if i could be
what i would need
myself I lose;
myself I dream

To write words over and over
To explain what it feels to love you
To express what you mean to me

No words can be enough for that
And so I always end up erasing them

I hate that my only experience of love,
Before now,
Was a demonstration of narcissisms bargaining chip.
The soul source of a narcissists food to feed the ego.
Because for a long time,
I was in deep belief that love was fleeting.
Here one second,
Non existent the next.
Torturous…
And devoid of any warmth falsely portrayed in movies, books and the lives of my friends.

I hate that I was conditioned to believe love was regimented.
Structured and strictly used to service you.

Affection was a mirage
Shown only when I must’ve needed a reminder to cling to false hope that this was real.

And while some romance films
Toy with the idea of some small sacrifices being involved
None ever quite explained that you had to forfeit your dreams for a narcissists ego.
Luckily, this was something you explained to me.
I should’ve graduated 3 years ago…

Despite your hard hard work to convince me love wasn’t real,
That I was nothing of worth.
I am being loved, shown I too can be supported, encouraged.
And I am stronger
And worthier
And happier
Than I think you are ever capable of feeling.

The hole you’ve dug is a deep one,
Get comfy before they fill it in.

Don't speak harshly,
Your words will form swords in me

Touch my cheek; speak gently,
And they will form worlds in me

I’m just tired. Tired of being broken. Tired of being forgotten. Tired of being used. Tired of feeling lost. TIred of being nothing. Tired of fighting myself to eat. Tired of feeling empty. Tired of feeling alone. Tired of Tired of doing everything for everyone; But getting nothing in return. Tired of being pulled back into this dark place. I’m just tired. Tired of crying.. Tired of breathing.. I’m just so tired..

it wasn't until the sun rose
that I realized
just how much
I was in love with the moon

It's like the entire world feels right
whenever I see you.

to the the girls who starve themselves,
the ones that watch their carbs,

you want to feel adored
you´re personality is fading
they´ll eventually get bored.

while striving for more
you settle for less

you can´t seem to love yourself
step on the scale, there go a few numbers
along with your happiness

I guess I’ll never understand
      Why you cry yourself to sleep

Why you look in the mirror
      To see one missing piece

What must I do to help you
      Sleep sound
            When I’m not around...

You are complex, hard to read

But,

You are

perfect

to me.