when I was five years old
my memories, how they are cold
winter trips to the park
lying in bed, scared of the dark
when I was ten years old
I needed someone I could hold
just a crush, no romance
because I was afraid to dance
when I was fifteen years old
I had watched my life unfold
like a wolf without a pack
or a turtle on its back
when I was twenty years old
my stories were left untold
hiding in my private hell
like a turtle in its shell
when I was twenty-five years old
my sight not pretty, to behold
I reached for my pocket knife
cut some change into my life
when I was thirty years old
I saw a fool without the gold
the mirror still my only friend
five years closer to the end
if I manage to survive
soon I will be thirty-five
lots of candles and a cheer
my whole life, defined by fear
Jan 29, 2016
Jan 29, 2016 at 1:45 PM UTC
do you agree with the terms and conditions?
my parents signed for me, and that was the end of it
if I did not choose to come into this world
tell me, what do I owe anyone?
I REJECT your claims, your logic is faulty
you have failed to convince me of the necessity
of anything, really
if this world is overpopulated
is the death of a child even a tragedy?
I HAVE TO? for my own good?
how the years have proved me right
fortunate that you can fall back on selective memory
if all your time is spent surviving
is life worth living?
flawed reasoning and tunnel vision
powerless against even a single independent mind
most unfortunate
that it's still stuck to a body
please, continue with your ********
you have failed to convince me of the necessity
of saving
the human race
Nov 15, 2015
Nov 15, 2015 at 7:16 PM UTC
artists I implore you; your finest work is needed
I CAN believe the news; another brain defeated
send me your brightest cloud; let me live amongst your stars
please be my soothing shroud; let me dance on top of cars
until this world is cured; from human stupidity
I'm smiling next to you; in silent lucidity
Nov 13, 2015
Nov 13, 2015 at 6:26 PM UTC
After thinking about it
I've decided that the right answer to every question is:
“I'll think about it.”
Nov 13, 2015
Nov 13, 2015 at 10:53 AM UTC
living beyond twenty-seven
this monkey not gone to heaven
the years decidedly unkind
doubting the beauty of my mind
I tried looking in the mirror
but the picture wasn't clearer
something was supposed to happen
just the sound of one hand clapping
did I not have a ton of dreams?
I remember still in my teens
all I wanted for my birthday
blank spaces to fill with wordplay
it seems all I do is compile
collaging words copying style
devoid of original thought
my younger self very distrought
I keep hiding in faceless rhyme
can't envision a bigger crime
a popstar with a silver spoon
voice forever on auto-tune
Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 11:39 AM UTC
oh my darling to be
asphyxiated in your dreadlock
hammered by your toes, right on the head
but first
please grant this lonely *******
the kiss
of your inverted ******
slowly picking off all your petals
darling tell me
when will I finally be allowed
to drown
in your freckles
Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 6:09 PM UTC
my dearest USELESS brain
could you for ONCE just NOT make sense?
tell that HOPELESS squeeze toy in my chest
that she did NOT leave me for him
she was ABDUCTED
and just has the WORST case of Stockholm syndrome
Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 3:31 PM UTC
and suddenly, there you were
a flower in an industrial wasteland
sunlight blonde
pink leaves
the years have been so much better to you
than I ever was
my heart skipped a beat
like it tends to do when you invade my thoughts
so I punch myself
in the chest
if you would be so kind to stick to the schedule
and limit your appearances
to my dreams
Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 1:23 PM UTC
“Clean up your mess before making another!”
-
“There are millions of dying children on this planet,
yet no one objected when you made me
instead of saving one of them.”
-
“Those children aren't MINE, are they?
I asked to clean up YOUR mess.”
-
“You are right, they aren't yours.
But at least one of them should have been.”
Nov 10, 2015
Nov 10, 2015 at 7:59 PM UTC
I roll up the sleeves of my sweater
every cut an open letter
dear mom and dad, you should be seeing
every fiber of my being
strangled
by the umbilical chord
pierced by Damocles's sword
my only dream, bottled up
and cast into the sea
all the sunlight gobbled up by the family tree
dear mom and dad, I cannot breathe
it's impossible to leave
your love
around my neck
buried
under my sleeve
Nov 10, 2015
Nov 10, 2015 at 3:13 PM UTC