It cannot be described
only imbibed
through many sorrows
and sorries
until the pain
recedes to numbness
your compass
points to death
& you see the peace it brings
the silence
the darkness
you make your mind up
maybe not today
or tomorrow
but you know
you're going to die by your own hand
& you feel
just a brief
fleeting
happiness

...

that's the sound of suicide

Lately
I don’t feel close
to poetry.

It feels elusive.
Unfamiliar.
Once it spoke to me.
But now it’s mute.

It sits back
and doesn’t look
at me.

If I call out
it doesn’t hear.

Lately poetry is
like that demon
I used to want
to reappear.

Are you okay?
Are you alright, are you fine, are you good?
Are you adequate, are you decent?
Are you emotionally stable, sleeping without crying, smiling because you want to?
Are you breathing without questioning, are you waking up without trying, are you eating without throwing up?
Are you reading this poem right now and thinking no?
Are you thinking for the first time, will I ever be okay?

You will be okay.
You will be alright, you will be fine, you will be good.
You will be adequate, you will be decent.
You will be emotionally stable, you will sleep without crying, and smile for the happiness blooming inside of you.
You will breathe without questioning, you will wake up to a new day, you will eat easily
You
are going to be okay.
So please smile sunshine
It’s a fine new day
To be okay :)

- a.g.

Nobody knows the
the darker corners
of my decrepit soul,

a stale and stinky
nasty shrinking
***** of abstraction,
that is less than
a fraction
of nothingness,

a shadowy space
where people cringe
and strangers displace
their rage
till tension and resentment
fill this smelly place.

Nobody knows
that my heart
does not grow
but disposes
of the red roses,
dripping paint
of crimson pain,

beatings
taken in exchange
for struggles
and anguish,
pumping out plump
plumes of poetry
and prose
to express the truth,

that nobody knows.

I thought of writing you a letter but after all was done I figured you wouldn't understand the background of every word I have placed in emotional order for you. I tossed it all up, along with the furniture around me. You could swear it a war zone in here, with only nature's weapons, the AKs in my arms, the grenades in my skull, ****** mirrors lay in shards. From a peaceful glance in the mirror, it started. I staring at the image with no known origins because you left and never creeped back. I fell upside down the day you decided not to look back, how can I do right when the only right I know is wrong.

You are
              so nice
    To listen to me without judgment.
To   accept   the   words   I   feed   you   when   you   ask.
You want my stories.
You ask for the bright ones, but there are none
                    Left.
So I give you
                dark ones instead.
And those you swallow down
      with your
drinks in the fitting darkness of night.
You let them dissolve away, amortised with the alcohol in your blood,
Forgotten in the morning,
And I wonder
                                        what it’s like
To love someone who
                 Doesn’t
                    Truly
                        Know
         ­                  You.