Time of death:
3:44.
When you told me you don't love me anymore.
Place of death:
The park where we met,
on a lazy Sunday afternoon.
I remember the dreaded words which escaped your lips,
the heat in your words,
the look on your face,
as I took a metaphorical bullet to the chest;
it hurt like Hell.
Cause of death:
You.
When you stabbed me in the heart for the first
and last time.
A fatal blow.
But in the coroner's office,
all the report will ever show is:
time of death:
3:44.
Cause of death:
Trauma to the chest.
May 8, 2018
May 8, 2018 at 11:16 AM UTC
if i didn't care
this whole thing would be easy
i'd be cool, detached, and distant
and we could so easily be coexistent
if i didn't care
trying to talk about my feelings
wouldn't leave me nauseated
and losing you wouldn't have felt like a limb being amputated
if i didn't care
i wouldn't keep trying so hard to make my heart colder
only to find myself once again crying in your arms, on your shoulder
if i didn't care
i wouldn't look at you like i still do
letting you see it in my eyes
how much i still love you
if i didn't care
this whole thing would be easy
if i didn't care
but i do
May 8, 2018
May 8, 2018 at 11:05 AM UTC
Spiders.
Snakes.
Late nights, due to the fact that once I saw a possum in our garage when it was dark out.
Good looking people not thinking I'm good looking.
Holding children. I might drop them.
My brothers growing up to be just like me.
Shark attacks.
Jumping off high places.
Headphones that go too deep into my ears.
Going the opposite direction of so many cars. I'm the only one going my way. They're probably headed the right way. They're probably having more fun.
Realizing that, after being on the road for a while, my high beams have been on the whole time. Sorry.
Cockroaches.
Family reunions where I'm not sure if that really attractive girl is my family or someone's friend.
Climbing up the stairs of the Bombay ride at Wet N' Wild because there just slabs of stone I can see under. I could slip and fall right through.
Enjoying bad bands.
Letting my girlfriend look into my eyes.
Talking on the phone.
Growing up.
Refusing to grow up.
Reading this over if I ever finish it and realizing that I am something less than a regular human being. Probably an animal of some kind.
Frogs.
Big animals.
Waking up one day as the same person I always have been.
Standing still.
My parents.
Not spending the rest of my life with the girl I swore I would.
Texting people too often.
My parents dying.
Whales.
My teeth being this awful the rest of my life.
Braces.
Making people think they offended me. People never offend me.
Writing anything that's ever as good as Ernest Hemingway. How dare I think that I ever could.
Running too hard. My heart might burst.
Being unreasonable. Am I unreasonable?
Sticking my finger inside an air conditioning vent in a car. I don't know if there's a fan in there. I don't know if it'll take my finger off.
Getting people's hopes up.
Letting people down.
Fish.
Bees.
Being a teacher.
My laugh.
Wearing bad clothes.
Holding her hand too hard. I might cut off circulation. She might get mad.
My brother disapproving of what I do.
Heaven because it sounds awful doing the same thing for the rest of forever.
Finding out I've been gay this whole time.
Cracking my fingers.
Being a parent.
Whales.
Final exams.
Paranormal Activity 4.
Singing on cue.
Sudden Infant Death Syndrome.
Eating insects.
Whales.
Silence.
The open ocean.
Whales.
Whales.
Apr 27, 2018
Apr 27, 2018 at 11:14 AM UTC
I only loved you
when it was
Convenient
I'm really sorry
that I didn't think
of you
( When it really mattered.)
What's the matter with my
soul? It isn't correct
but nothing feels wrong.
I feel something , I don't know
if it's "sorry".
Looking into the void.
I think I seen you.
Reached out.
We met again.
For the first time.
It was love
Possibly maybe.
holding on to right now.
Frozen. your face perfection.
Eyes closed.
Waiting so anxiously for you
to open them.
You don't.
My heart arrested by your beauty.
Shatters when you chose not
to look at me.
I don't feel any signs of growing.
Apr 27, 2018
Apr 27, 2018 at 11:01 AM UTC
Twenty-six Letters,
Are universal symbols,
Of Not only beautiful love,
All that is Good,
But also Ugly hate,
All that is evil.
Infinity Gratefully accepts their company.
At the Emission of such power,
One Is unable to do anything but tremble at
The Sacred,
Power of a Word.
One can not say that it is not
Wonderfully moving to posses this
Earthshaking ability to release
Rattling emotions
With only the arrangement of some lines on a surface.
Mar 13, 2018
Mar 13, 2018 at 3:31 PM UTC
Perhaps my expectations for you
are impossible.
Perhaps you are blind to the desire
in my eye.
Maybe you are deaf to the disappointment
in my sigh.
Maybe your budget isn't
so suasible.
If you would read my body,
Look into my mind,
We would be great
And all would be fine.
Though it probably should be,
It just isn't enough
To say that you're mine,
I need material stuff.
Roses of red,
No,
I prefer blue.
And the finest of chocolate,
A large teddy bear, too.
Shower me with the money you've spent,
It's not a big deal,
Only a present.
I promise not to be greedy,
Or selfish,
Or stale.
I won't raise my expectations even further on the scale.
But you must keep me happy,
Satisfied in every way.
You can't do that for me?
Well what else can I say...
I promise I loved you,
In good times and bad.
And I will always reminisce
The times that we've had.
Oh, I will miss you.
I promise, I will.
But your wallet has emptied.
And my love has gone still.
Feb 14, 2018
Feb 14, 2018 at 2:06 PM UTC
To what purpose are these words?
In emotion expressed this way,
Though thoughts may be heard,
Few know what they weigh.
Is it vain to think your words have worth to another?
That your words mean more than the words of some other?
The purpose is more than mere appreciation.
It is more than the expression of deepest frustration.
Our words are the life of our generation.
We are the proof of dead poet's reincarnation.
Do not be discouraged,
They may not express heed,
Sharing words prove our courage,
And that's what we all need.
Nov 29, 2017
Nov 29, 2017 at 11:15 AM UTC
They say if you love me you wouldn't do anything that would strike question to if we would last.
But what do they know?
They don't understand who you were in the past.
They don't understand just how much you've grown.
To think that in love no makes mistakes is absurd.
I've taken a boy who once flew into the bedrooms of countless girls and made him into a flightless bird.
I've clipped his wings of freedom.
Or more, he clipped them and gave them to me.
So, what do they know?
You've made mistakes, and a year later the shame on your face still does show.
There is still a part of you that desires nothing but to fly into unexplored bedrooms.
I know you'd love to drown in their womanly perfumes.
I'm fully aware that you wonder how soft her bed is, how her hair smells, how her lips taste. And it's ok to wonder, love, it's ok to be curious. Or so I say.
And still, sometimes you sit in their window seals and watch them through the glass.
You keep smacking into that window, you crazy bird.
Can't you see what's holding you back?
If not see, then you must feel the hook I've sunk into your heart.
And they ask me, regarding your infedality:
"Doesn't it bother you?"
"Oh, yes, of course, it tears me apart. Who wouldn't be bothered at the thought that one isn't enough to satisfy another?"
But in the end I always come back to the same resolve: "You aren't finished changing yet."
They laugh and say that I can't change you. Trust me, I know that too.
I'm only here because I see your potential, I know you desire to be a better man, and yet sometimes your desire to be faithful wavers. But I'm still here to dry your tears of regret.
I am your shoulder to cry on.
Beat me over and over again and tend my wounds, in a few days I'm good as new and we can do it all over again.
You say it's the last time you'll hurt me, but love, we both know you can't say that. Not yet.
Don't change for me.
Change for you.
And if you do have backup plans, though you insist I am the only one, I do hope they won't fall through.
Even if I won't have the pleasure to be the only one, I'll always be your first love, even if I'm just a memory.
So don't change for me and don't thank me.
You have changed yourself.
I was only eating popcorn in the audience of you're drama.
Crying at the sad parts,
Laughing at your jokes,
Smiling with you as you progressed.
Your wings have grown back but you aren't using them the way you once did.
And now that we've reached the end of your film labeled "Change", I wonder if I'll be starring in your second movie as well.
Maybe I could have a larger role this time, don't you think?
Nov 19, 2017
Nov 19, 2017 at 9:32 AM UTC