He was 16 Trying to be
The perfect guy
Trying to make
Someone understand
How addicted he was
To self destruction
To sadness to the feeling
Of a cold blade
Of an empty stomach
There was nothing
He could say
He could only
Sit in his room
And dream about dying

I wrote a poem for her today.... No no no, thats no good way to start it.
"You are my heart beat and i couldn't live without it." Nope thats no good either.

I just want to please her.. Even my best attempt to meet her wouldn't be enough to see her. I crumbled it up and threw it away, I erased it all, all the words I couldn't say.

Maybe writing a poem would be the way. A crumbled up piece of paper, and all that is left on it to say "I wrote you a poem today"

The tent fly
flapped
in the
Arizona dream.

I fell out
of the door.
Saying,
"I should be
dead soon."

My bleeding feet
stained the
brown sugar sand.

And God
was everywhere;
in my cuts.
In me.
In us.

And God
was nowhere;
absent-hearted-
blood-kissed-
consciousness.

My hands gripped
at the cheeks
bordering thin lips.
I kissed the
Arizona dream
as if it were
my own.

If it were my own.
If you were my own.

I said "don't forget me",
and you smiled,
hollowed out my eyes,
with matches for fingernails,
placed them like ice cubes,
in your glass of peroxide,
won't you swallow it?
as if it does not burn,
your crooked throat,
because I know you have wounds,
stitched in your esophagus,
from spitting fire.

All my life wishing, that
I was struck by lightening

This is great website, and I've met some lovely writers, and I hope to I meet even more - but *** are all these preaching comments???

I've never met a writing place with so many unofficial spammy preachers!!!

I don't need ******* preaching at!!!

How do you know I need salvation - maybe I'm already saved - have you thought about that?  Or maybe I'm just a blind idiot in your opinion.  But either way your pointless unfriendly and ungodly manner has zero effect. You've never met me - you know nothing about me.  From now on anyone who spam comments and preaches on my work gets instantly blocked - use your energy elsewhere.

And here's another thought: what if what I write is called creative writing - heard of that before have you?  Not everything I write is about me, and I'm sure I'm not the only one who does that.

Apologies to all the kindly beautiful writers on here - it takes a lot make me have a swearing rant, I guess I've just ruined my kind reputation.  Just had enough of the spam ****, and in my real life I NEVER tolerate idiots, and I won't here either.

I don't mind the mention of God as a personal view, I'm not God phobic, no problem with that, but just don't leave messages as though I know nothing and I need saving - I **** well don't.

Your sincerely
One very ******* writer

Poetry written on cave walls
Of distant planets in other galaxies
Is still comprehensible to human
Hearts.

The stars look the same
From there.

They say the American flag planted
In moon dust is nothing but a
Sun bleached white piece of cloth
By now.

All things, it seems, given enough
Time and exposure

Become requests for
Peace
In the
End.

Those hands,
Cleaned with our clothes,
Washed with the rice,
Rough like these days
Are feet that kept me going.*

© 2015 J.S.P.