I cant find joy anymore.
I have looked under every rock,
And behind every tree.
Ive searched through fields.

I dont know when she left,
I just remember waking up one morning feeling a little emptier
And a little more lost.

Its been cloudy every day since.

Why do you hide?
Hide where?
Under the bed, I mean?
Because it's safe.
Are you sure?
Yes.
Can I come and see?
As long as you promise to not touch anything.
Okay.
Welcome to under the bed.
What's this?
Don't touch it.
But I want to.
No.
.... Too late.
.......
.......
Welcome to under the bed. Your new home, child.

No Comment (Silence)
No Heart (Heartless)
No Thumb up (A+)
No Thumb down (F)

Reciprocity = Respect and Encouragement
Lack of such = "...so I'll just say fair thee well"

Deadline; World Oceans' Day

believe me
I need help
believe me
I don't need you
I'm okay
I run away
letting go
hold you closer
my voice
blows like the wind
can't you feel it
don't you hear it
believe me
everything is okay
I need you
I'm not okay
I don't want help
I run away

I just wanted to take a moment,
and think about the times,
the memories,
the joys.
Before I was broken.

Before you ruined me.

Before my heart broke.

When I was healed.

My life was far from perfect,
but I was going to be alright.

Until I met you.

You were the best worse thing that has ever happened to me.
You filled me up
and then emptied me out.
But it was you.
So what could I say?

You changed me.
But what could I do when all I wanted was you??
And it's crazy because even though I know you're not good for me
I still want you.

Right now I want you more than ever.

I look in the mirror and see
Wrinkles impressed upon me
Some from good and some for bad
I've earned each one, I'm not sad

Each wrinkle tells a story
Some glad some gory
So many ups and downs
Caused the smiles and frowns

I gaze the mirror and ask
Is this really me I take to task?
How did time fly by so fast?
My life is set in wrinkles cast

Upon my face, I wear my life
My sons and dearest wife
Some happened in the fire
Some took form because it was dire

I prefer the ones that came from smiles
A raised brow to see for miles
A ripple around my face pointed up
I wouldn’t remove a wrinkle, it's been my cup

The winds of my mind ******* away and I fade
I am empty
And I could just...
disappear
Into thin air

But yet.

My skin holds me, so that
I will not vanish
into the grey.

Time


Time is precious as I’ve been told it can escape us if we stand still and pose.

Procrastination and taking our time can lead to problems that hinder our movement, goals and attainments.

Time is essential, limited and long the more you do now works out better in the long run.

Time when rushed is a dangerous occurrence our actions have weight that once completed are fixed.

Time is different in everyone’s eyes to me it’s a hurry, goes slow or is there to appease.


Time

They say you can’t remember pain
But brother I feel it bleeding
Even now
Even now
Even now

halo, halo
flooded by musky greens
that wipe out the bitterness
to your taste
hands tight on my waste
and lifting me
to sit on a shredded pillow
the window open
the walls damp
the chill once again comforts me
embracing an icy touch
you cut my hair
a head of bleach falls to the floor
my black roots remain
fragile breaths come from the trees
awakening once more
creeping their branches into the room
creeping under my tunic
the sky clears and I am soft
the pillow empties of its feathers
removing the inside
releasing the weight

Maybe it’s just me
Who had all these fantasies
Is this even real?

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.

I can tear myself to pieces,
it is a natural place for me.
I can and I will and I'm better
than I was but I'm worse still.
I can splinter myself and let every
doubt burrow itself into my open skin,
let the insecurities bloom into
harsh and wicked flowers,
let the bile rain into my poisoned mind.
I am precise with my agony,
following the loose ends to their end
and mine and fraying the
cord in between.
I do not mean to, but the issue
presents in its encroaching way
and I see no path but the
truth.

See the world through Van Gogh
Soften your focus and
look out your window

Stand alone, dear one
and look at the dreams astray
the many colorful dreams.

I stand alone
don't we all
and they are vivid, these dreams.

You stand alone
and you find hues of possible
laugh or cry, wretch or come.

We stand alone
in crowded day rooms
wish for more, dream love

then stand alone

again.

I am here, waiting patiently for her,
though long time no see
like in ever, like in never,
my absentia, dementia,
both critiques of self-censure,
here, then, my cadenza,
dedicated solely soulfully for you:

as the sabbath sun rises over the East River,
saying, mocking, laughing upon me,
“still here, though long time no see,”
for though I cannot never look upon her as well,
my sun, my sun,
yet she, too is everywhere-inside of me,
woman-sun, both warmly illuminating my muddled mind

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

waking in darkness, he saw
curtains
waving manifold,
their inward edges
delectably touched by carbon light
white as sugar—extravagant—
and elsewhere was black.

Waiting:
is a sign of true love and patience. Anyone can say I love you, but not everyone can wait and prove it's true.

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

A moment with you
Is a lifetime
And a lifetime
Is gone in a moment.

i want to ask how you are.

(A WARNING TO THE CURIOUS)

Distance yourself
from this world
before you
into its troubled atmosphere
are hurled

i wanna die. i wanna die.
i wanna die. i wanna die.
i wanna die. i wanna die.
but i can't seem to pull the trigger.

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?

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.