You’ve Disappeared
like faint footsteps —who’s temporary imprints in the sand
quickly fade under the pressures of the sea and of time
and of the light bubbling whispers of past failures
You’ve Vanished
like the moon on a hot, blazing, hateful day
scorched with the sun’s ambition of sharing its warmth
and hide in the cold comfort of your darkness
You’ve Hidden
like a magician’s rabbit
nervous & deep within a false unknown
(we all know you’re there)
standing ovation applause.
All that is lost is eventually found, when you return
I hope you are received with welcoming arms.
(those won’t be mine)
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 2:11 AM UTC
where is the clarity in my thoughts?
the straight lines,
in the jungle of scribbles?
the uneasy nuances of my ideas
push me back and forth
until i’m nauseous with
self conflicted confusion
dizzy, turned around ideas
dance & twirl until I
**** out actions taken
with jumbled conviction and
lost intent.
where is the clarity in my thoughts?
Aug 31, 2014
Aug 31, 2014 at 9:31 PM UTC
Sometimes the words we speak do not synchronize with what the heart feels
Aug 25, 2014
Aug 25, 2014 at 3:21 AM UTC
Your lips, love me fondly
whispering life into the dormant
butterflies trapped in the
pit falls of my untrusting stomach
Your hands touch me lightly,
hesitant not to overwhelm
but never will I get enough
of their warm grasp
Your laugh lights a spark
in the heart of my forgotten humor
bringing happiness to my smile
illuminating darkness
Your passion will set the world on fire,
burning down the wrongs
replacing them with your affection
powered by past affliction
I pray your lips, your hands,
your laugh, your passion…
do not forget me in the
flames
Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 3:27 AM UTC
For the first time--in a long time
I sit by myself--alone--
and there's no where else I'd rather be
Than right here--right now--
With no others company except
The solidation of my own divine thoughts
And for the first time--in a long time
I put myself to bed--alone--
with a smile across my face
Utterally, and distinctly
at Peace
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 1:37 AM UTC
When did I
accept desperation?
For anything you'd give
your attention
your affection
Love and tantalizing
Touch
I crave you excessively
May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 7:12 PM UTC
Are we all ******* blind?!
How did we all fail to see the
apocalypse in it's twisted occurance
Detinating life as we know it
All I see are Zombies
All that's left are zombies!
Look there! That girl walking
Missing half her life
Half dead-trapped
no real human left behind her eyes
Walking aimless to her desk
To her future
Look at that zombie over there!
Drowning himself in alcohol
Killing himself again
Just to feel alive
Though simultaneously
wasting...away....
I better do the same
Hide the life so I don't get eaten
and zombiefied myself
I must survive this apocalypse
Trying
To
Survive
moving forward & forward & forward
I have become a zombie.
May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 2:42 AM UTC
Inhales inaudible
You exhale
The ghosts that haunt your sleep
The terrors that sculpted
Your past
Your future
Breathing in nothing
But the knowledge
You grasped from the horror
You remember -so well
Out and not in
I-so-la-tion
Swallows you as you sleep
rocking you into a deep, deep
Place of fear of anger but of love
For the life you've created
Though unbalanced and un-whole
Your inhales are inaudible
May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 2:31 AM UTC
no one is around
i walk down the streets of a vacant wasteland
forgotten, discarded, tattered
red cups drag across asphalt
with no force pushing them but the
tired alcohol stained breath of the wind.
this beautiful sunday morning-tainted
by the drunken cheers of last night
the life-poured, guzzled, shot
out of this place
death hangs over the streets while a
drunken hibernation swallows my
"highly esteemed" peers.
shattered glass cracks beneath
my feet as i follow the pathway
to my house; to my successes
this place…
this is home.
May 20, 2014
May 20, 2014 at 4:54 PM UTC
that place…
that place where you..don't…know
whats right or whats wrong
that place where you just are
not quite yourself; yet not estranged
by a strangeness completely
that funk that is what this is
do I feel extra or not quite
is this excess or insufficiency
Do i jump into action abounding
with love or stay put
for fear of the funk that follows
quirky tendencies or supressed emotion?
stirring. twisting. explosion
of thoughts of none
but a barren wasteland that
slowly crawls through the excessive
chatter that fills me to the brim.
is it grim? or a beautiful bounty of
raw, ****** toils of the soul
blessed, or cursed
I Am This Place.
May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 1:11 AM UTC