I'm kind of a *****
My last resort to not believing this is the fact
that I'm still a ******
But I suppose that doesn't mean ****
I've gone from bed to bed,
lover to lover.
Always too afraid to take that step.
I can control myself for a while.
I'll tell myself I don't need those sensual pleasantries.
But I always come back to them
and I'll come back to the same men,
starving for seconds.
It's one thing to have your primal needs satisfied.
But those human yearnings cost so much more.
Those cravings for true affection always lie inside,
like a wolf begging for blood.
I don't want to share just a pillow with you.
I want to give you my soul, my dreams.
I want you to tame the animal
without dousing the flame.
But that's not what men like you do.
You feed the wolf.
You give it my heart
and its teeth are just so ******* sharp.
You pour water on the fire
until there's nothing but smoke,
mere remnants of what I thought we could be.
You're not my lover
and you never will be.
You're a soulless *****
with the sharpest claws.
And you want to know
what the worst part is?
When I look in your black eyes,
I see myself.
I see the kind of monster I'm becoming.
I'm turning into you;
like daddy issues, like son.
But I deserve better than that;
my soul deserves better.
Today marks a new chapter.
Hell, I'd burn the whole book
and start over again if I could.
But that's not how life works.
Starting today, I'm giving up the streets.
Have fun finding another filthy *****
shouldn't be too hard in this town.
I'm leaving this side of the tracks;
Gonna find me a nice, warm
mansion to live in.
One with a big fireplace
for my lover and I to stoke
our embers forevermore.
Feb 7, 2021
Feb 7, 2021 at 6:27 PM UTC
I think I saw my
Soulmate on the street
The other night.
I was walking along the sidewalk
That was dripping with rainwater.
The night was humming with
Its dark secrets.
And then suddenly I saw him.
I felt all the heavy
Decay and dead matter
Fall off my shoulders
And when I looked down,
I saw that it all had
Turned into feathers.
Millions of pictures flooded
My mind of what we could be
If only we knew each other's names.
I felt a joy deep inside places
I'm usually too afraid to even acknowledge.
Like my heart.
And my soul.
My stomach was full of butterflies.
My heart was full of sparks that
I need you to make into a
Passionate fire.
You passed with a warm smile
And suddenly I melted.
I should've melted into your arms, but
They weren't open, waiting to
Catch me.
But it's okay.
I don't blame you.
I know it's my fault.
I know I should open up more.
But I'm afraid.
When I saw you,
I wasn't afraid, not even for
One second.
I smiled back.
And said one word that made
Your smile open wider than
I ever thought possible.
"Hi."
I'd like to thank you, Soulmate.
I don't know your name,
Your age,
Your favorite song.
But you still somehow made me feel a way
I've never felt before.
I've never felt such joy.
I've never felt so brave.
I've never felt like
I could touch the stars
Before I saw you on that
Rainy street.
---
JMB
Oct 16, 2017
Oct 16, 2017 at 9:08 PM UTC
In youth group, we're reading a book called
Do Hard Things.
And I try.
Kind of.
We all had to sign up to do a "hard thing"
From the back of the book until Christmas.
I signed up for what
I thought would be the easiest:
Wake up early every morning to
Read my bible.
Easy?
Yeah right.
Honestly, I don't even know why
It's so hard.
I set my alarm for only half an hour earlier than usual
Almost every night.
But then when it goes off,
I reach down and turn it off.
I even moved my alarm clock
To the other side of my room so
I would stop doing that.
But I still do.
Why?
I honestly can't even
Give a good reason why
I don't just do it.
Maybe I'm just too lazy?
Maybe I go to bed too late at night?
Or maybe...
Maybe
I'm afraid.
I'm afraid of what
I'll see when I
Finally open the Holy Book.
I'm afraid I'll see myself in all the
Stories of the sinners.
The sinners who were driven out
Of their homes and cities.
The sinners who were killed
For just being human and
Nothing more.
Yeah, maybe that's it.
Just maybe.
---
JMB
Oct 11, 2017
Oct 11, 2017 at 5:13 PM UTC
I know my poems aren't perfect, but
Writing helps me
So I will write
Everyday.
Because I'm not perfect either.
---
JMB
Oct 10, 2017
Oct 10, 2017 at 9:33 PM UTC
I'm lost on a gravel road
In the middle of nowhere.
But it's okay.
In fact, I couldn't be
Happier about it.
Because sometimes
I get lost in my head
And I can't escape
No matter how much
I scream and cry for help.
The left and right sides of
My brain collide
And blood sprays everywhere
And my thoughts are all mixed up
andijustcantthinkandpleasemakeitstop
PLEASEIMBEGGINGYOUTOSAVEME
CANTYOUSEEME?
Nobody knows.
They don't hear me laughing at myself
Every time I look in a mirror.
They don't see me fall apart
And cower
Every time I see him
Because I think I'm in love,
But too much of a coward
To actually find out
Or even to just talk to him as a friend.
I used to be brave.
I used to be fearless
And not give two *****
About what anyone thought of me.
But everything is different now.
Only getting to relax when
I'm laying under a
Blanket of stars.
Only getting to
Really breathe when
I'm sitting next to one of
My best friends while she
Hits the gas and
We cruise down a dark, gravel road.
She takes a wrong turn.
I'm lost on a gravel road
In the middle of nowhere.
But it's okay.
---
JMB
Oct 10, 2017
Oct 10, 2017 at 6:48 PM UTC
I don't want to die.
Okay, let me rephrase that.
I mean I don't want a typical death.
I want it to be unforgettable.
I don't want to die any of the ways
That have already been used.
Car accidents.
Burning.
Health problems.
******
Suicide.
OD
And much more.
You see, all these ways of death
include something else:
Statistics.
I don't want to be a statistic when I die.
I don't want the only remaining part of me
To be just a single number
Buried under millions more.
But I don't have a say in the matter,
Do I?
---
JMB
Oct 10, 2017
Oct 10, 2017 at 6:19 PM UTC