I write as a lover, before the storm.
The wolf pup in winter, seeking the warmth.
I write in a theatre made up of dreams.
Walking the tightrope, of my tensioned feelings.
Believing the gravity serves as my foe,
to bring me to earth, abandon my hope,
A pessimist calling.
I leave it a note.
I sing as the sibling, to decorate lives.
To wrap up those present, greet who arrive.
And each day is christmas, when siblings celebrate,
together they dine in the feast they create.
I work as the father, to wisen my hands.
To cultivate friendship with life and with land.
I love it regardless, this life that we have.
Jul 10, 2025
Jul 10, 2025 at 12:14 PM UTC
Thousands of generations
of human life
must resolve
before one man can sit here
and jab blindly at hieroglyphs
under two competing lights
both equally ingenuine
typing and tendering
thoughts
in the currency of writing
he hopes to invite in
some spur of the moment
some hurtful opponent
simple and vivid
to blind him for at least a moment
to the complex sorrows of the modern world
so that he can wallow in a sea of words,
and forget that to which he's inured
a biography written every day
read by no one,
but written anyway,
but the writing doesn't drive the gloom away.
Jun 5, 2025
Jun 5, 2025 at 6:26 PM UTC
Just one breath,
of unpublished air.
One organic despair.
One step to repair
my damaged window.
My misled gaze.
My programmed eating,
ate my days.
One word to pull me
from my habit
While I claw at the walls
like a mindless rabbit.
Trapped in my whole
endless war, an
obligation
to my spirit
drowning in
the need within it.
I'm drowning in
the human image,
the crafted icons
and social spillage.
I search for rescue
in nail-scratched writings
in the wall of the cell
I've spent my life in.
May 9, 2025
May 9, 2025 at 8:51 AM UTC
Two minutes, we sacrifice.
The value of a human life.
Not to work two minutes harder,
or push ourselves 2 minutes further.
Not enough to contemplate
the pain and fear, the spite and hate.
Not 2 minutes to reparate,
our broken world, our shattered people.
The ones we left, who've grown so feeble.
We give 2 minutes for those who died.
Who died in wars so many times.
War and again, over and over,
and louder, the silence,
and longer, the violence,
so dilute in its gunfire and sirens.
Silence, 2 minutes, for those who died.
Yet silence eternal, for those deprived,
of human rights, and chance to live,
If only 2 minutes were all we'd give.
May 8, 2025
May 8, 2025 at 7:13 AM UTC
This fu@&!n app
I don't understand.
I'm following instructions
as best as I can.
I tried five tutorials,
and searched it online.
Why does this time saving tool drain my time?
Apr 30, 2025
Apr 30, 2025 at 4:00 PM UTC
Please break my heart
So I don't have to break yours
I'd rather feel all that pain
Than be the one to make you endure
Please break my heart
So I can leave yours intact
I'd rather be haunted
Than have to hear you react
Please break my heart
So I can live with my decision
I'd rather lose all my tears
Than have tears disrupt your vision
Please break my heart
So I'm not the one serving time
Id rather feel completely caged
Than be the one to commit this crime
Please break my heart
So I can make sure you're OK
I'd rather lose my voice
Than listen to all you might say
This request might seem odd
I ask for you to do the downing
But if we're both stuck in this storm together
I'd rather be the one drowning
Apr 24, 2025
Apr 24, 2025 at 1:31 PM UTC
It's a strange reget I fear,
that I might look back on my years,
and regret that I'd been kind,
when finally comes my time.
That I might look back and revere
the times when I was selfish.
And well, this was never meant to be
a contest of who was kindest,
I think in my absense of mind just
pottering around,
avoiding the risk of being
a bad memory from another human being,
but in this incessant kindness,
I worry that I'm seeing
an increasing list of costs
and a shrinking window of feelings
and asking in a voice
quiet enough to never be heard,
I ask the world, "have I been heard?"
I am no ********** of gilded sentiments.
Purchasing my fortune in currencies of kind words.
Settling my debts to the harbinger and the reaper
by my endeavor to never been seen alike them.
I seek the gentle will of the world we built
by calling blindly for salvation
within a nation of those who cannot see
and hoping that they'll somehow see me,
If I devote my life
to being something someone else should have been.
Apr 23, 2025
Apr 23, 2025 at 1:59 PM UTC
will you still love me
if I don't smile today?
if my tears fall like raindrops
and my world tears at the seams?
if my voice breaks when I talk
and I seek the comfort of dreams?
will you still love me
if I don't cheer up today?
if I sit rigid in silence
and spend the whole day in bed?
if I find solace in cigarettes
and don't keep myself fed?
will you still love me
if I don't laugh today?
if I keep my thoughts hidden
and don't say what I mean?
if I curl up in darkness
and stare at a screen?
will you still love me
if I don't calm down today?
if my patience wears thin
and snaps like a thread?
if my eyes no longer sparkle
and are absent instead?
will you still love me
if I don't smile today?
Apr 17, 2025
Apr 17, 2025 at 8:16 AM UTC