Again
       going up the street
  Figuring for a transitioning
     But retaining status quo
like the secret people meeting clubs
and it makes perfect sense
     Make new spells
For enrichn’ing inflections
Be here now, be here now
         Attention
Be the setting
By setting the theme
Preen yr feathers and make the calls
      Walk down the street

you're a stranger in a myth where there is no official beginning or ending
and i'm not worth your spark in my darkness nor every explosion you leave for me.
now im stowed in all that is left of you when it seems this cruel world doesn't need me
and i can't recall what inviting lies you've said when embers on my skin singe deep.

~ A.M, F.H.

It's hard to know
When to quit.
What to quit.

A friend once told me:
"One vice at a time."

But maybe I put
To much meaning
Into his words.

Because he blew his head off
With his service pistol,
And I'm still here. So...
That's gotta mean something,
Right?

Quitting.
Maybe what I need to quit
Is this mindset of extremes.
There may be more value
In finding the balance between
Keeping on keeping on,
And knowing when
enough is enough.

Balance.
Quitting.
Keeping on.

Not everything has to be
An on-off switch, Justin.
Treat yourself
Like a dimmer,
And find that perfect
Balance of light within.

Drops of rain
On the window pane
Fall down in sweet misery

Sipping tea
Transports me
To land I do not know

The waiter calls
I don't seem to care
Neither does he

The clock has stopped
The world has paused
So what ,if only momentarily

At café de tranquillité‌‌

i love you,
and to prove it,
i need to end myself?
it's not  that I'm scared,
but i would die,
not knowing,
if you smiled,
when you knew,
i loved you more than myself

is it this loss,
the loss of her
or is it something else

constantly eating, dreaming.
looking.
waiting, searching.
failing.

people seem to find that which they look.
I do not.

am I alone in my antsy
will my leg ever stop shaking,
my heart stop looking?
will I ever be satisfied?

I am exhausted by
your memories since they
cause storms in my heart
from time to time.

love will take you to places
it’ll be an awfully big adventure

it will bring your feet to move with willingness
will let you automatically say yes to invitations

love will take you to places
places you’ve never seen before

ends you’ve never encountered
freshness of the places new to your eyes

love gives you a free ticket to a transportation that will take you to extreme ends
extremities where trains, airplanes, cars and boats ******* reach
and only love can

a free ticket to the highest point in the mountains that’ll bring you the extremes of happiness
yet this ride may also take you to the deepest of the seas and oceans that’ll undermine the extremity of sadness, loneliness and despair

love may take you anywhere
it’s a vehicle that you can drive to your desire

love gives you the freedom to get to your destination
love will bring you anywhere you go
as long as you drive with love, there would be no place that’s impossible to arrive to and a destination you couldn’t reach

love is a vehicle to extremities

Watching the walls turn for colors.

Dead under eyes.
Appliance.
Awaiting.
A stronger taste of Sulk and.
Morbidness entering.
The tiredness because why not.
Forward.
Adore.
Shaky legs for silence.

Garrett Johnson.

you broke me more times than i can count,
more times than i'd like to say,
but i still blame myself

i thought it was all my fault,
that i was a bad boyfriend,
that i was the reason everything went wrong.
i was wrong

i think about you a lot.
i think about the scars you've left,
the few good memories there were of us,
that i loved you unconditionally,
your hugs, your touch, your lips, your hair
and the worst part is,
i miss it.

imagine being isolated from everything you love






take those painfully intense emotions
make them be your guide to loving more, loving stronger, and being the fire that you still are, maybe just smoking, maybe you can't see anything at all.

But you were born to ignite your true colors

Even if you can't see with you heart

To that baby
That kid
That teenager
That adult

Growing inside me
I’m afraid
                 Of the pain
                                    I may feel

                                    It may cause
  I’m afraid
                 Of growing

                                    Up

                                    Old

why should I apologize
for being a monster
when no one apologized
for turning me into one

listen, in this family you never show any signs of weakness; you close your door and close your heart and keep your **** mouth shut.

ivy cried in her sleep and cut her wrists open in a desperate last attempt to ask for help but all i was able to offer her was advil and a wavering smile. the truth is, my mother’s first boyfriend taught us how to fix a flat tire but he never explained how to ask for help or what love was even good for in the first place. and ivy never meant to hurt anyone but while trying to **** her sadness, she accidentally killed herself;

she was made up of choppy syllables and not enough, and i think it is important to note that not all little girls come from cherry lollipops, that some of us have eaten cereal from the box while hiding in the basement from a man with rough hands and angry eyes.

mum is made of a steady voice that she uses to tell me that my shirt bleeds neon, a color associated with nightclubs and drugs. she is made of secret sabotages and the palpable disappointment in her eyes when she whispers that donuts have 195 calories and she’ll quit smoking when i stop starving myself; she has excellent timing because whenever she asks this of me, i happen to be in recovery. she is made of jealousy and manipulation and the disease that shakes her bones and forces her to rotate through cycles of boyfriends and therapists.

richard was not ivan’s biological dad but he is the only father ivan has ever known and i do not say that as a good thing. some boys are made of skinny jeans and sharp jawlines and ivan is the kind of guy that is now a little deader than he was before he claimed his first girlfriend took his breath away. and when they talk about guys who use girls for *** and enjoy emotional manipulation they’re talking about ivan and his cloudy eyes; it is important to note that some boys have touched more thighs than textbooks and that ivan is going to spend the rest of his life making love as if he could gain it back. my best friend in kindergarten used to call our teacher “daddy” as if he could replace the one she truly needed, and ivan will never admit that he misses his father as much as she did. it should be noted that some boys are more sad than angry, and when ivan was twelve he started skateboarding because it was easier to fall on the pavement and feel pain than it was to inflict it upon himself with shaky hands.

we found what we loved and now it is killing us.

this family is hostage to blank silence and bleached walls, there are words we will never say carved into our throats and i know no one gets it but listen, when i was seven i watered my mother’s favorite plant until it drowned because i never knew when to stop giving, and i cannot grasp sanity or love in these decaying bones and i was never good at being honest with anyone, least of myself, but let me tell you.

if you wander here looking for validation or nourishment i feel sorrier for you than i do for myself, because you sure as hell won’t find either in this house with it’s crumbling ceiling and chained doors.

even as your heart drags you through the circles of hell
and your knees buckle under the weight of life,
a soft, confident voice rouses the parts of your soul
that nudge your spirit back into its natural rhythm.
you slowly rise, feeling the ashes under your feet.

You dance between whimsical and methodical
capricious nature’s create obstacles,
predicting you is impossible,
I think you just like to keep your options full
fascinated by the farcical
while calculating the precise motion of the particles

His face
The sight brings a smile to yours
His eyes
You can stare into them forever
His lips
You wish you can kiss them
His hands
You wish you can intertwine them with yours
His mind
It intrigues you
His soul
You can love it for eternity
His heart
It doesn't belong to you

nap-hair,
toes,
nose,
thighs.
your
autumn-
rain scent
is pulling
me out
of my
slumber
and softly
putting
me back
to sleep.

One day I'm going to embrace her,
And the Crimson and Sky will concur

I'll leave her to drain my soul,
Her lips so luscious, they've already taken a toll

To stumble upon her flawless arms,
Her voice like mother's comfort charms

I'll mourn my loss forever and forever,
And my skin, I will sever and sever

She accepts me in her doors,
My death, eternally yours

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

you never asked to read my poetry
maybe that was the sign.
i told you i wrote for fun,
you shrugged and moved on.

Graces everyone with her presence,
lights up the world with her smile,

Where does the light come from?
Where does the darkness hide?

Look into her eyes
you'll find where the truth lies.

A shattered heart,
a numb soul.

Darkness lies within,
breaking her apart

Like a candle,
light is what the world will get

While she slowly melts
into her shadow.

I pen a poem
about
a beautiful
flower,
and think that maybe
it is about a woman instead.

in disgust,
i throw it away.

not that i hate her,
the contrary,
but to me,
it seems,
a flower cannot be a flower
and a woman
cannot be a woman.

Let my silence teach you

what my words

did not

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 stupid –”
I know it sounds stupid,
It’s pathetically foolish
And seems like *******.
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 say:
Do you want me to pretend you do not exist?

She says:
Do as you wish.

I perceive:
All I was once you moved onto the next,
A waste of breath.

What a mutual perception process,

You keep on running and now I have nothing but my beliefs.

And what do you have?
Your cup is empty

It would be full but...
You poke holes in all the words I speak

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.