In the wake of hope;
A fleeting emotion,
Lies the horrid despair
Of failing once again

My needle-spun lies
Tie the rope around my foot.
Caught in a snare,
The huntsman’s judgement
Is the only way out.

The huntsman’s rife,
In which I seek repentance

Petals fly
Petals fall
Dancing roses
Sewing the fall.

Fallen petals laying, red.
Sewn by a simple thread;
The world’s card has been drawn
Fate is facing the early dawn.

The cooling air
Calls in a darkened sky.
A soft rain hits with flair
And the clouds continue to cry.

A step of light,
A touch of flame.
A world so bright
Yet a world so tame.

Simmering through the walls
Shimmering above my head
Shrouding the room
In a cloak of light.
I live inside
This world so bright.

I lie a broken boy,
Listening to the song of love,
Humming the tune in disarray,
And dancing my feet
To each devious beat.

Behind the eyes
That shall not show,
The inhabitants run free
Brimming my moving mind
With fantasy in top of fantasy,
Giving little else to think of.

If I could start again,
I’d move a trillion miles away.

Drain the toxin from my veins,
Train myself day by day.

If I could start again,
I would keep myself
I would find a way.

Why should I
Take pride in myself
When there’s nothing
To be prideful of?

When disarmed in the fall,
the winter ground
Hits harder than all.
No way to brace
For the mind’s justice,
So I lay, cold and tired.

And I hate myself for it.

Insensible schisms
Within the chasms
Of a fractured mind.

Spiraling spectral light
Reflecting off the broken pieces,
which lie scattered,
Hovering in an everlasting stasis.

Eternal connection lies in myth,
And such fragments I view with mirth.
A broken mind calls my name,
After following the void of my birth.

To all those oppressors out there,
I say "**** you!"

I pray to all the masses:
Let the rabbits wear glasses,
let the pigs wear suits,
and let the accountants...
let them wear their favorite boots!

The cows can don their horns
and the sheep will wear their wool
while farmer brown scorns
the fool that wrought this chaos
into his farm stand kiosk.

A film of dust delicately cakes
The oaken shelf,
Reflecting a soft filtered ray
Onto the dim ceiling.

Deep olive curtains
Dye the slightly stale air
To a sluggishly pine-like hue
That resides ever so prominent
On the ambiguous rays’ edges.

The silent air sleeps
And with its vexing stillness,
The slight tinge of a curse
Resonates through
These mahogany walls,
And even down
Those sharply shadowed halls.

You could have it all;
My liar’s throne.
Pick me to the bone;
Create a cliff to fall.

The forest’s wing
Creates its leaves;
Their sweet little sting
Scraped off the trees.

What have I become,
Beating to another’s drum?
Following the soft flare,
With thoughts I cannot repair.

I’ll drop you into the dirt,
I will make you hurt.

Digging a hole
As I’ve always done.
But sweat, tears, and blood,
Corroded an abyss of mud.
If you want a hold dug,
Grab a shovel.
If you’ve dug too far,
Grab a pen.

The line between heaven and hell,
A line moving to and fro
With each silent toll
Of the otherworldly bell.

A motionless ball set to roll,
Time tells of stagnant control;
Neither will consume the other whole.

I always wanted
To be seen as an adult,

But is it too late
To start being a kid?

Apparently I’m at 10,000 words on my profile. That’s pretty cool.

It’s ok to hate yourself,
As long as you’re trying to like you.
You will fall from grace,
But it’s ok, life is sour sometimes.
If you don’t ever let go,
Life will let go of you in your stead.

Before you love someone else,
Learn to first love your own **** self!

Six and a half hours
Of grueling yard work
Seemed like an eternity
Of endless seconds

Without you.

Running through the soft breeze
The wind resonates among the leaves.
A green shade encloses me.

I could never see this forest
Because you ditched me among the trees.

Liquid emotion;
pervading us all.
Lying prevalent
Within our darkest minds,
Sits our coup d'etat;
Ready to overthrow
At the flick of a hair.

The tick of time,
The weight of a scale;
Inconsequential losses
Remaining inside
The tumultuous plane
Of organic existence.

Sometimes the end
Is oh so far away
Beyond earth’s bend
Lying among the starts

But sometimes,
You are facing the light.
You just have to let it all
Fade to white.

She whispered into my ear
“I find boys
Who write poetry
Really distracting.”
Then her flame went away,
Leaving me to wonder,

And forget.

Flowers mill about
The field of conceited sunlight.

For pleasure?
For knowledge?
No,
Forsworn.

Feel the sting;
Feel the *****.
Within the bell’s ring,
And the clock’s tick,
Lies the burden.

Feel the sting,
Feeling time
Bearing down.

A world to repair
And a wrench in your hands.
The rusted bolt of despair
Has long since plagued these lands

Where are the birds that flew;
Through the sky, in pairs of two.
Where are the trees that grew;
With leaves and sap that stuck like glue.
The golden world’s in your hands too,
Why not make this gray sky blue?
Show us the world that’s true,
Bring out your natural hue.

Bring out our natural hue.

As life flows over the ledge,
We watch the waves push them back.

Them,
The trillions of voices,
Of souls,
That precede our beckon into
This oceanside cliff.

All work and no play
makes me a useful boy.

As long as I keep working,
people will see my lie as truth;
that I'm not a failure.

What palette of inks
Has the world dyed itself
With on this day?

A collection of yellows
Painted the canvas
Of a plain and woods
During the setting sun.

A collection of greens
Littered the pines,
And finished the color
On the grass and moss.

A splash of red
To cover that setting fireball

A sheet of blue
And a touch of violet
To dribble on our night sky,
Which we will now
Litter with the deceitful stars!

In the air
For less than
A second.

My hand moves
In utter hope and
Desperation,
But to no avail.
The glassware
Is now everywhere.

I step on
The jagged mess
That I have made
To repent my hate
For dropping
That precious plate.

I want to run.
Travel far away.
This place is hell
I have no idea why
But my blood’s boiling as well.

My mind is hell bent
My blood is pumping,
But...
I can’t break anything
My fear is overtaking.
I want to break something,
Yet I’m breaking nothing.

I don’t want to be here
I don’t want to be here
I want to ******* run
I want to cough up blood
And wither away.

Split myself open again,
Laugh at the sight of blood,
Ride the wave of serenely
Stabbing,
Butchering,
And ultimately
Mutilating pain.

Home is where the heart is,
But my heart has burned away.

Today,
Another day in the line,
Another line in time,
And another time
In an era.

On this day,
I felt I needed to start
My active application
Of the concept of self love.

I love my 1.5 month streak
Of no self harm.

Let’s go for two items!

I love my 1/2 month span
Void of suicidal thoughts.

I wonder when
The streak and span
Will come to a close.

Hands in flaming hands
With the demons that once had
Control on my world.

Mistakes are a demon
Bludgeoning you with a bat.
You get nothing but pain,
See nothing but failure.

And then your hospitable
Tormentor
Tells you to learn from
Getting beaten severely
By an infernal divine.

He appeared in the dead of night,
A specter emanating the deathly ice
And he stole out from all entities, a light.
Now the world was dark and cold, a paid price.
The ebon fauna was forever a blight,
Now the night had come, and death to its right.

Everyone es:
ecstatic, erratic, eh?!
Eternal ending!

The sixteen bit
Integer variable
“intParityHandler”
Has had an overflow error.

I could always
Enlarge its capacity,
But what if
There’s not enough
R  o  o  m
In my mind
to do so.

Trust is a two way handshake

The gentle surf slides onto shore,
It’s indefinite curve lightly tumbling.
A scene like a feathery leaf,
Drifting towards the autumn ground.

A deafening calm,
Where nature effortlessly prevails.
Pervading the unsure landing,
And giving it strength once more.
Within the boundaries of earth
Lies a boundless expanse of life.

The little widow’s weeping
Stopped my heart from beating.

The hourglass branded up on its spine,
Signaling the end of my time.

A teardrop stains my arm,
But that’s just the venom in my souls.

Beating hearts
Lined up in parallel.
A growing passion
That will never die.
A life is gained
On a converged route,
But the separate routes
Drop in priority.

Three roads running in parallel.
Two eventually stop, leaving
One road to move until the world’s edge.

Don’t worry
It’s just water,
Flowing under
This bridge of yours.
You’re up here,
The water won’t hurt.
Unless you jump.
But one
Should never
Find themselves
On the edge of a bridge.

So please,
Step down.

I’m happy, I continue to assure.
They all fell for my desperate lure.
It’s all a hopeless ploy; it’s all fake.
I’ve built my world upon this mask;
An ebon shell that’s about to break.

So many twists and turns,
Rocks in the road,
Broken bridges
Gapping broken land.
Maps never worked,
Nobody ever told me the direction.

Now it’s straightening out,
But I never saw the chasm.
You’ve left me to fall once more.

An incorrect output
to the anger built up over the day.
I wish I could apologize,
but the window just may
have already closed.

I should take back what I say
once in a while.

As the beach pulls at the grains of sand,
Your forgiveness tugs at the corners
Of my reddened eyes.

Now is the time
When those
Who normally seem
Sensible,
Become the
Insensible.