our lips will never meet
nor our fingers intertwine
and so bless my dreams
for indulging what's not mine

It doesn't matter
if the glass is half empty
or half full
because it's already broken

i spent my life trying to please
someone with a twisted disease
i broke myself down
and tucked my feelings away
to become the person
they wanted me to be
i let myself be watched
through the glass of a two sided mirror
of a sociopath
i wallowed my spirit away
and begged for acceptance
but there’s nothing in the world
that i could do
to let the narcissist know
that i am human too

my one wish is
to find someone
who sees the world
as beautiful as i do
with their mouth
preaching poetic beauty
as i have once did
to all the boys
i have loved

If you’re the one that’s so concerned about the world ending
Why are you trying so hard to bring it to it’s knees?

There is nothing in
this world that we
can get for free. Every
boy and every girl
were born with eye's
to see. While I was
walking down the
street a man did
approach. He asked
me for a cigerette I
told him I dont smoke.
later on that very
same man was driving
a brand new porche
it turned he was very
rich his daddy was a
morche.The moral of
this story we really
never know the score.
A little bit is not enough,
we all cry out for more.
So in time the man
died from cancer from
the cigerettes he smoke,
life can be a real big
game not meant to be
a joke. So remember
this suggestion do not
accept anything for
free. It may be the death
of you or maybe the
death of me.

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)

She is a poem of his heart
He never disclosed
In front of anyone.

You were born near the warm ocean,
grew up around there,
With your clear acrylic smile
and sun-kissed blonde hair

I, the winter cold
More north than I can remember,
We met that day you visited,
a brisk chill, that December

We drank and danced,
while the years passed over
Argued and grew apart,
our greatest fears, now sober

My memories of you, once treasured
Now, faded
as sun deprived lands complain,
Forever, jaded

I just missed
a warm feeling
a true touch

My Mind the prison.
My Heart and Soul prisoner.

The chains,
Anxiety and Depression.

My Body the canvas,
Mindful of my Oppression.

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.

"Though it was at my hands, it was your weight that suffocated me."

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."

I thought if I could swallow the stars
I’d be as beautiful as the evening sky
I tried one night    with fireflies
They burned my throat
Their legs striking at soft flesh
But my skin did not glow
No moon crawled from my eye sockets
I was left with corpses in my stomach
I soon learned I would only ever be
A cemetery

She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."

Where is this all going?
Where will it all end?
Be thankful in this
precious life if you had
one good friend.

If I look forward as I fall
I might regret this soon
as the ground comes ever closer
So I turn around
to look back
and remember
why it is, I'm falling
in the first place
as I watch
the sky get further away

nothing would make me happier
than to hold your hand for the rest of our lives
grow old with you
and watch our grandchildren play under
the magnolia trees in the summer sun.

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

I will find you in this life and the rest.
Your hand in mine— oh, I’m blessed.

Why do I crave
Your attention
This late at night
All I need
Is your breath
In mine
To stay alive

Draw the doorlatch, turn the key;
Stay in your tower, but not with me.
Shake free to pull the chains in tight;
Store tainted objects out of sight.
Wipe clean the traces I have left
As I lie prone, exiled, bereft.

My sickly scent shall still seep through
Cracked window frames, to chasten you;
The odour of humanity
Will swirl with sugar in your tea.
Ants will trail through, borne on their feet,
My broken matter from the street.

I cannot live for your fine ease;
I cannot die from your disease.
Unloved yet loving. Cast aside.
You promised me your heart. You lied.

Colors shimmer from burning candies, and golden dust is strewn with dark stones.Ignorant eyes find a pattern in chaos.Another spectacular canvas of colours is being plotted by the magician.

I was falling
for you

the feeling of
being weightless

the sky and
the ocean are
blue

like your eyes

your eyes and
Einstein’s brain

are the depths
I can never reach

but I will drown trying
to reach either or both

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.

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.

I don't feel special,
I'm not unique.
I want to cry
but I can't even speak.
My hands reach out,
but they cannot hold
a single thing
but the bitter cold.
Everything's frozen,
I feel lost.
Even my tears
have turned to frost.
When I cut my waist
it bleeds black.
I'm so deeply gone
there's no way back.
This is goodbye

Books devour the silence

that weighs down inside

like bright little creatures

they dream and breath

in their cosy little worlds

until each page sizzles

with a human touch