I can’t tell you how to love
or how other people do it.
Only how I do,
and how it consumes me.
Jun 9, 2019
Jun 9, 2019 at 11:32 AM UTC
There was a time,
that all I wanted
was to sleep next to you.
To be able to wake up next to you.
Now I can’t escape the nightmares
every time I share my bed
with you.
Jun 3, 2019
Jun 3, 2019 at 8:57 PM UTC
A bottle of red
held to a splintered heart.
As smoke drifts
for a cause lost.
Words come
and words go.
Actions promised
always fall short.
I blame myself,
the hatred in my veins.
Causing me to realize
I’ve become a man of shame.
I can not love,
for it is opposite to what I am.
A thing of night and fury
forever to loneliness ******
Apr 20, 2019
Apr 20, 2019 at 7:44 PM UTC
My father once asked me
what I thought the strongest thing on earth was.
I said it was the human heart.
With an inquisitively arched eyebrow he asked why.
I told him because nothing breaks apart and comes back together quite as flawlessly.
Feb 20, 2019
Feb 20, 2019 at 10:31 PM UTC
I’ll never understand why some people think being called weird is an insult.
I’d hate to be normal.
We’re all a little weird in our own ways and that’s what makes us unique.
That’s why I’m in the habit of thanking people that call me weird.
For I just can’t imagine a more wonderful compliment.
Feb 20, 2019
Feb 20, 2019 at 10:29 PM UTC
“How could you give up on me?”
-
“Why could you never believe in me?”
Feb 20, 2019
Feb 20, 2019 at 10:26 PM UTC
I find
that I can not trust others.
How could I?
When I am just learning
how to trust myself...
Feb 20, 2019
Feb 20, 2019 at 10:24 PM UTC
I am eight years old.
I hide behind the fence in our backyard,
the smell of damp leaves and rotting wood.
The mud ***** and slurps at my toes like some ravenous beast
as my brother bleeds at my mothers hands.
I am silent.
I am ten years old.
I hide behind the cracked old leather on a school bus.
Their laughter rises and falls like the bumpy gravel road.
I chip a bit of paint off the windowsill
and it breaks my heart.
I am silent.
I am fifteen years old.
I hide in a lightless back alley.
It reeks of something sweet threatening to make me gag as I clasp my hands over my mouth.
Flashes of red and blue pass once more chasing a scared, sad little heart as I hold my breath.
I am silent.
I am twenty one years old.
I hide behind the person
they know me to be.
Behind charming coos and witty jabs.
Behind a persona of indomitable strength.
I am the best of them,
of us.
The most well adjusted.
The luckiest and most fortunate.
Nothing is wrong,
after all,
they look at me and I have it all.
But in my mind
I am screaming.
In my mind I am already gone.
Feb 20, 2019
Feb 20, 2019 at 10:17 PM UTC
I tried to say
“I love you”
but the words caught in my throat.
I think I still do.
But every time I go to say the words they fail me.
Because every time I try,
I remember that even you
painted me
a shade of monster.
And try as I might,
I can’t get away from
the bite of your words.
So forgive me.
I think I still do,
but I can’t say that I love you.
Feb 20, 2019
Feb 20, 2019 at 7:20 PM UTC
She didn’t ask for jewels or clothes.
She didn’t ask for anything you could find in a store.
She only asked that I come back to her
&
that I bring with me a single leaf.
That is how Central Park
turned into a desert
and I,
the mad fool
picking through the grains of sand.
Nov 23, 2018
Nov 23, 2018 at 11:38 AM UTC