Silence
A pain ****** my left arm
and I open my eyes
I am lying
in a wasteland,
wasting away
A vulture's beak presses
deep into a mangled flesh wound
made above
my right pectoral muscle
I feel the eyes
of the vulture,
staring into me,
and I feel connected
to it
I think,
if this is the end
of everything,
then I suppose
it's not the worst
way to go
The vulture picks at me,
cleaning my innards
with it's bloodied beak
I feel nothing
Nothing inside me,
nothing beyond
me to envision
These days
are silent,
albeit my screaming voice,
and I wonder
if the atmosphere
trembles subtly
while my lungs
collapse
Light is only in my eyes
reflected by the memories
I'd walked through
in my years,
and the trees
that line
my path
bend
I break
There is little solace
in this heavy heart
knowing it has been beaten
and beating
for something
more
With the vulture
having emptied
my decomposing body,
we fly
Apr 1, 2015
Apr 1, 2015 at 12:52 AM UTC
I am the architect
of possibilities
built from confidence
and my kingdom
shall stand
strong
among the crashing waves
I am the artist
painting the canvas
of my life in colors
not seen on Earth
because I am of the ocean
and planets
across the universe
I am the poet
writing lines on my palm
so that when these hands
touch another's,
that person may know
my truth
I am the present
to this life, given
from my mother
and father
so that I may learn
to help
stand up
those who have fallen
I am the breath,
the pulse, the beat,
the cry, the laugh,
the smile, the embrace,
and I will continue
to build this paradise
until the flags
atop these towers
may be seen
from galaxies
beyond the naked eye
I am alive
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 2:33 AM UTC
I hold you on my fingertips
Oh, love of mine
I feel your kiss upon my lips
Chase wine with wine
I'll bleed red, pink, and white
wherever the candles burn
Light up the night
and make this blessed world turn
I feel you searing in my lungs
Trace my skin
with a gentle tongue
Oh, love of mine
Chase wine with wine
I hold you on my fingertips
Oh, love of mine
I feel your kiss upon my lips
Chase wine with wine
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 2:26 AM UTC
I looked
in the mirror
yesterday
Some birthdays
you wake up
and time
doesn't feel like it's moved
for you,
but when I looked
at my reflection
yesterday,
I knew
time has moved
for me
My eyes have grown
ever more piercing
because I have captured
monsters and madness
in the jungles
of my mind
My hair, darker than ever,
shows few gray hairs
and I know that the years
will start to blur
into one quick flash
I only hope I can see
the days before they go
My face, as a whole,
has broadened maturely
and I am not the boy
I used to be
I am not a boy
The days of childish things
are behind me,
and the stark realities
of the world
have affected me
deeply
It is time, now
It is time for me
to live the life
I want to live
It is time for me
to find happiness
and breathe life
into dreams
I've sheltered
behind fears and faults
I am not a boy
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 2:25 AM UTC
I've lost friends
before
I'm used to people leaving
I'm used to pain
I'm used to loneliness
Maybe this is all poetic ********
Maybe I'm a lost cause
But, maybe, just maybe
I care about you more than anything
because I've had friends
self-harm,
wrap ropes around necks,
wrap cars around trees,
and I wouldn't wish
that on my worst enemy
I speak poetic ********
I speak
for the wounded
and for those
whose voices
are drowned in the words
of those who say
"I'm fine."
when everything
is falling apart
around them
This is poetic ********
This is me
writing words out
because my heart
bleeds
for the ones I love,
I'd rather my blood
spill on a page
than from my wrists
I am the epitome of poetic ********
I am alone
I am weak
I am your best friend
I am scared
I am imperfect
I am everything and nothing
I am alive
I write poetic ********
I write poetic ********
because someone
out there in this ****** up world
will read it and feel
something, anything,
and I hope
it breathes life into their lungs
and they inhale
the world around them
for the first time
This is not poetic ********
This is life
Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 2:25 AM UTC
Don’t catcall after her
as a means of substituting
a compliment she’d rather hear
Don’t objectify her body
or her thoughts
and think you can make them
your own, because you can’t
She is a fortress of neurons
standing strong with wires crossed
like barbed fences to keep
out swine aiming to satiate
the desires in both heads
Don’t say you wish you lived
in a time where bigotry,
misogynist perspectives,
and gender were divided
by a pedestal and the floor
you think she should clean for you
Wash your mouth with acid
and let it melt away your tongue
Digest the flesh like a wolf tearing
away at the carcass
of some fresh, bloodied prey
Pray that she who brought you
into this world doesn’t trample you
beneath the weight of her stiletto
as it gouges your cheekbone
She is the one
who carried your monstrous form
inside her caving bones and muscle
She fed you before you
could even open your mouth
to digest the filth
that some high and mighty male
forced down your throat
She is not a ****** object
of your fantasies and fallacies
about how your breed of idiocy
is somehow superior
to her own power
She is a woman, and she will stand
with you or above you
Never shall she stand below
your pathetic gaze
you could never be
If any words be spoken
with the utmost sincerity,
let them be these:
“I’m sorry.”
Jul 4, 2014
Jul 4, 2014 at 1:52 PM UTC
Inside there beats a pulsing *****
that can't beat strong if you're choking me
I'm joking, please
understand that sadism isn't my thing
I don't know what my "thing" is
because I've never found a passion greater
than bleeding this heart of mine
out on pages for the masses
Masses praise on the seventh day
But, my days are numbered
I'm dying on the inside knowing you're lying
In my eyes, your eyes have been dark
not because of arousal but because of deceit
I can't see your pupils when the darkness floods in
and the darkness floods in often
I find it hard to find the truth
when three-fourths of what you say and do
is deceit and the one-fourth that isn't is my
uncertainty if that one-fourth is really the fourth
part of a string of lies and spewed out cries
for help
Help me, God
Help me figure this all out
Yes, I brought religion into this
because religion's intimate to me
When there's no one who will listen
and no one will offer a hand
I pray for guidance, surviving
by the blood on my hands
I've killed dreams and hopes
with flames and smoke
and arsonists would pardon this
attitude because anyone can understand
that being alone is the worst pain
of all
It's that fact of knowing I'm alone
even when I'm with you
I feel like you're not as attached to
my passions as I am, and you won't let me
be included in your passions
I want to be passionate about something
other than bleeding this heart of mine
out on the pages for masses
because massive waves of concern
have been dragging me under
for quite some time
Now I know what it's like to die drowning
because I've never felt alive enough
to reach my hand to the surface
and grab the future that is rightfully
mine
This heart of mine
has bled too much
and soon enough, I'll
pass out from blood loss
and that loss won't be
the worst
The worst thing I've ever felt
was the loss of my grandfather
and aunt passing away from cancer
Like a cancer, this feeling of being
trapped in myself has been eating
away at me, and some days I don't eat
I don't think I can keep being a part
of that one-fourth you put forth
and that makes me feel like
I've been too blind to see
that seeing the big picture
requires me to take a large step
back and taking that picture
of this heart of mine will tear my flesh
open with the flash of light
A flash of light is something I need
in this darkness, alone
Inside there beats a pulsing *****
that's lost its strength, and I know,
I know I need to escape this mess I've made
This mess has made me a mess of emotions
and only the ocean can pull me down far enough
to see that this heart of mine can still beat
without you
Apr 19, 2014
Apr 19, 2014 at 9:57 AM UTC
I'm the invisible man
I'm the ugly duckling
I'm that kid who dresses up like Aquaman
When the rest of my friends dress like the
Justice League
No, it really feels like this
It feels like I got hit by a car
On a back road of some lesser known town
And the driver kept on driving
My body's lying in some
Sagebrush beyond the guardrail,
Twitching
My breathing is becoming shallow,
Broken,
And it's fading quicker than I'd like
I've got crimson blood pouring out my nose
And my head throbs
Like the beating of hearts that would never beat for me
My bones are wrapped around one
Another as if their comfort would bring
Any to my splintered soul
Headlights, taillights
They're all just lights that will never set my pathetic frame aglow
So, I lie in sorrow that I never stood up in the crowd
My tongue tastes the bloodied mess
Of dislodged teeth that fumble in my mouth
I realize that I never had a voice
I couldn't tell God to leave me alone
Because in the end of it all,
I never wanted to be left to myself
Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 10:59 AM UTC
I think it's best to be yourself
In a world full of people
That tell you that you can't be who you
Are
Prove them wrong
Show them that you can become
Anthing
Anything in this world that brings you
Down
Is something you have to use as a
Strength
Be stronger than the weakest of minds
Tell yourself you are beautiful
Tell yourself you are wonderful
Tell yourself you are perfect
Tell yourself you are right
It's difficult to be assured
That you are everything you should be
In the end, all we ever want is
Happiness
People say to make better choices
People say
"Don't make the mistakes I did"
I'm not you
I won't ever be anyone other than
Myself
Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 10:55 AM UTC
Say I'm not going to make a living
Financially or happily off of writing poetry and fiction
Say it
Tell me how you think I see the world
Tell me how you think I should
I know who I am inside
I've fallen on the concrete and
Blacked out, seeing blurred visions
Of a night sky I'll never see
Because I'm too wrapped up
In my blankets and worries
To care about how beautiful
The stars are in their flawless
Choreography
I think, sometimes
Not all the time, though
Sometimes, I wonder
I wonder why you make me into
Some image of naivete
I wonder why you act
Like I'm some lost puppy
Who is aching for a bone
I'm just looking for a home
Because my bones are shattered,
Battered down by the insults
And results of you judging me
I'm so, so weak
Say I'm not going to make a living
Financially or happily off of writing poetry
Say it
Tell me how you think I see the world
Tell me how you think I should
I know who I am inside
I know who I am
I know
Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 10:48 AM UTC