Why is there a need for me to not be like the the rest of the world?
Why should I not be like them to them?
I am insignificant compared to the world...
Why must I try to change it?
Why must I embody the better of them?
Why can't I go and be cruel and selfish and ignorant like them?
I might as well end up being their superlative....
Answer me..... Why can't I give up?
Why am I wired like this?
This world is beyond saving... The belief I had that I'm like this cause someday I might end up showing them that my path is the righteous one...
No.
The world isn't finite nor is it infinite... It's meaningless.... So i might as well be the best at being selfish cause that's what I'm searching for... "my self".... How else does one find it??
If you have answers... Answer me. Else...
Fade away.... Like everything and nothing.
Sep 25, 2017
Sep 25, 2017 at 4:58 AM UTC
Sometimes I wonder
if I even survived
my childhood.
Maybe some part of me
is sleeping
up on the hill.
One of those
Nightmares
That I couldn't escape
Carried me off
In its jaws
and so maybe
I am planted.
Looking down
At all the people
I can't remember.
I hope that I am ashes.
I never wanted a stone.
Nov 19, 2016
Nov 19, 2016 at 10:19 AM UTC
In Florida sometimes it rains so hard
that you believe that it can't possibly stop,
that it will just rain and rain forever.
Sometimes I'd wake to a storm late at night,
and I'd sit out on the porch.
You could smell the lightning, and the coolness of the storm would
make your hair stand;
I'd feel so alive.
Some nights I'd go out, and my father
would be sitting on the porch already.
Lost in the storm
or maybe
called to it.
We wouldn't talk,
but we'd be lost together
in the rain and thunder.
Sometimes I wonder what of him
is left in me.
I am not sure
if I am more afraid of there being
very little
or of there being a great deal,
but when it rains
I think about him on that porch;
Apr 8, 2016
Apr 8, 2016 at 1:04 AM UTC
Tick a hundred places,
You wanna be..
Mark one too many people,
To prove wrong..
Note down each rule,
You wanna break free..
Have so many dreams,
You wanna see, come alive..
..that even depression can't inspire suicide..
..and instead, find pleasure in offending life.
Apr 8, 2016
Apr 8, 2016 at 12:56 AM UTC
I want to tell him
that I’m scared,
that I’ve been here before.
And that the last time I felt potential like this it imploded;
I imploded.
But I don’t want to taint it,
You see I’m still hopeful
That maybe this time
Won’t end up laced with maybes,
Or what ifs,
Or open wounds pouring blood onto paper.
That maybe this time,
just won’t end.
I’ve not quite worked out whether I think it’s beautiful,
Or stupid -
The human capacity,
And pliancy,
And longing,
For love.
Dec 7, 2015
Dec 7, 2015 at 1:42 AM UTC
*she slides her slender
white fingers down the
branches of his spine
her eyes melted like
glaciers and lips as soft
as freshly fallen snow
skin lustful, but heart
unforgiving, exhaling
his every intention
she is autumn in his
palms, her trees bare,
the leaves rust fallen
flashing indifference,
thoughts plucked in
shades of violent rose*
Dec 7, 2015
Dec 7, 2015 at 1:41 AM UTC
She's very much alive
But she is dead to me
The decision wasn't mine
She wanted to be
A tombstone in my mind
A grave inside my heart
A perpetual funeral
That has no end or start
There is no wreath to set
No flowers to lay
The only place that this exists
Is buried in my wake
Dec 2, 2015
Dec 2, 2015 at 11:04 PM UTC
She weeps not for the shore
As distance creates a shadow
She embraces the current
Becoming the wave
And gently pushes her sea home
She chases not the sun
As the day is put to rest
She is the moonlight
That cradles the stars
Tightly to her *******
She yearns not
Her pain-streaked tears
That fall below her feet
She is the soil beneath her toes
Her pain now colors the tree
She worries not
The flowers' bloom
Or the leaves that fall like rain
She is the wind
That will kiss the ground
And sweep it all away
Nov 29, 2015
Nov 29, 2015 at 11:28 PM UTC
It feels easy to you,
Me, drinking my troubles each night,
Try sometime, to gulp a day's worth of pain in a shot,
Let me too hear the reminiscences of the time..
When you'd swallowed your tears and i never found out.
It feels simple enough to you,
Me, intoxicating my crashing heart,
The whiskey is indeed bitter and hard to swallow,
Try sometime to go one more, just one more,
Feel the pain of subduing your pain, that follows.
You say, being honest is hard,
I'm wrong when i lie, when i said I'm alright,
Standing up straight to hold you, when I'm falling is exhausting,
Hold up when you're falling one time,
Know it is never easy my way.
Nov 28, 2015
Nov 28, 2015 at 1:07 AM UTC
my fingers have become bored with
the quicksand of routine
they prefer to dance erotically over my typewriter
frolicking like naked ballerinas
over an ancient stage
spilling their secret thoughts
onto blank page,
after their day job
threaded together
over my lap,
or bending over to
reveal the contents
of my burlap sack
they have taken instead
to jumping over cracks
in the nothing of night
stifling the sound of silence
with assortments of clicks and clacks
punching in the perfect pitch of keys
to leave Beethoven blind
from this symphony of notes combined
and just like that at last
they have unfolded some rhyme
unachievable with ink and pencil,
without the stencil of time
dictating to work inside the lines
Nov 28, 2015
Nov 28, 2015 at 12:40 AM UTC