The first seven words
Of seven thousand;

Will
Love
Life
Mind
Time
Pain
Blood

Give one a small generalization
Of what this boy writes.

An endless window sits before me
The ebon gleam
Entices my forest green...

Contact starts with eyes
But what contact is left
In this empty planet.

A crisp ashen smell
Waves in greeting,
And the hotpot bubbles
It’s spicily warm curtsey.

A sliding, wafting heat
Caresses your skin
With it’s cottage comfort,
And the small light
Finally reaches your sight.

Too long have these lonesome winds blown,
But now your company dashes in.
So, welcome home.

What ails these sorry veins,
Plaguing the mind and soul alike?
Boiling blood, sores and pains,
Killing what’s left of life.

Maybe rubies are all I need;
To make a mark and watch it bleed.

The fragrance of loneliness
Dwindles under our starred sky.
Only the blind will ever see
A starless expanse.

As long as the arrow is still airborne,
The sky shall be vehemently torn.

There are shockwaves you have yet to create,
And a life to live without you degrading hate.

Carried by the wind far flown
You are the phantasmal flying kite;
Your path shall not be blown,
And I will hold your string tight.

Dauntlessly, night after night.

You yell,
You cry,
You scream my name;
Say your in pain.

As i swing my fracturing arm;
Ready to lift you up,
You swat it away,
And I shatter.

As my pieces fall to the ground,
All I can think of is you,
And everything i could do,
To help you get through.

The wistful whims of flurries
Made apparent by its fragile mark.
We speak freely within the wall
But are silenced by snowfall.

How many blades
Do I need
To sever these connections?

Or are they just too strong
To accept severance
By mortal blades?

What am I to love
About my being
If you aren’t there
To provide
My needed support?

Shall I just continue
And try to love
In this void
that bleeds me,
Leaving me
Cracked and empty?

Or shall I cease as well,
And have you by my side in hell?

If I posted a poem
Containing my feelings,
Would she see it?
Or would it be lost,
Like many other things,
In the silky sands of time?

What if time had stopped
In that very moment;
Never to continue?

What would you think,
If I had become the autumnal leaf,
Drifted away by the wind?

Would things be different
If I paused indefinitely?
Would have it been better?

I’m caught up in this air,
Smelling of chocolates...
And human hearts.
Now I can only think
Of the one that stole mine,
And why I gave up so soon.

Maybe things were meant to be,
And eye-to-eye’s what we truly see.

Imagine
Milky white swirls

Sifting through worldly lights.
Opaque obelisks,
Rummaging through the starry sky.
Rifts are opening
Yet again.

Fuzzy nightmares,
And lurking daydreams.
Hiding from the ends
That justify my means.

It’s all led me astray
There’s always another day,
But there’s always debts...
Which I need to repay.

Unnoticed
Shall these lines lie
But I am at fault.

Little rules:
Syllable count
And weird rhyme scheming
Define these works of mine

I wonder
If anyone
Notices this stuff
In which my mind runs wild
To create this distinct shape.

Even in the dark, comets still fly
Like a radiant moth called to flame.
Hidden among lost and frozen stars,
Acceptance lay still and forgotten;
A consistent game of stagnation,
Until the hunter found the fountain;
Until you found me.

Why are you here?
I never wanted you to exist
Yet you stay and cause me self fear
You never cease to persist
Wanting me to bleed
Maybe even to beat myself dead
Its all a mystery, a warning I won’t heed
I never wanted to let out so much red...
I ******* hate you
Hiding behind a shield of lies
Its all you ever seem to do,
The fake tears, but you never heed my cries
You need to leave me alone
You are a fiend that needs to atone

Spiking into me like a soulless torrent,
Bringing a slight vignette to my vision.
I drag it to the side, feeling the skin part,
Feeling the cold metal searing my hot flesh.
Blood bubbles up,
but it’s not good enough.

Again.

I drag it through quicker, harder, deeper.
I want more pain.
I want less blood.
It still doesn’t pass the bar.

Again.

And again.

And again.

And on it goes...

My arm drips the blood I never could have cherished.
My patience with this process is almost out,
I feel a desperate hatred, as my desolate mind shuts down.

My arm becomes increasingly ravaged
by each sweet, disappointing stroke.
My mind runs out of patience with all my failures.

“**** it. I’m done.”

I raise my hand, the one holding my ever so cherished blade
And sweep the slice of a hopeless child;
a child who sees nothing left of themself but the pain they give.

The flaming arm releases some of its ruby blood,
Flinging it towards the walls and furniture,
Unable to hold onto it through the violent strike.

A vertical line of deep red divides its lighter counterpart,
A vertical line, far too shallow to stop my worthless heart.
“There’s always next time...” I think resignedly,
But I know that next time will fail as well.
I forgo the bandages once more,
And go back to what I was doing, ten minutes before.

Through all the disappointment I saw this as my savior.
But I know, that this was never any form of acceptable behavior.

What lies in the eyes
That stand just out of sight?

The void is endless,
But who can see that far?

If one is set to leave,
Why bother looking back?

Just because you’re out of sight
Doesn’t mean you’ve left my mind too.

The vicarious visage of life
Hidden behind masks.
A broken mask
Means a broken man.

A vernal flame rises
As the golden sun falls,
And the blue flame quenched.

A green harbinger of spring
Carried his torch to my figure
And lit himself a second torch.

I have become the fuel
For the fleeting flame,
And it burns me so
Just to have to go,
But now I must,
Leave for the flow.

As the snow undoubtedly decides that it’s to good to fall,
I lay in my lukewarm bed, praying to catch a wink of sleep.
It is not because I am exited, nor do I want to catch Santa Claus,
I just have a case of insomnia, that’s pretty much it.

But as I look out my window at the clear sky,
A radiant arrow of piercing moonlight strikes my heart,
Shaking me to my solemnly steeled core,
A core as cold as the clean world lying out my window,
And as sturdy as the nice red balloons found at parks.

I try to speak, but I am speechless, breathless.
I realize my lungs are devoid of air,
So I take a rapid breath inwards,
A breath far sharper than my blooded razorblades.

And then I spoke.

I stand there, asking, pondering, realizing,
and further disappointing myself...
I question my past choices, look at the people I’ve loved.
A short list, containing only two names to be held dear.
A female and a male. I love both,
but neither loves me back.
I question how to look forward, how to move on,
But I cannot find an answer

On this despairing Christmas night.

The anger closes in,
Like a thick blanket,
Ten degrees too thick.

My worldview is narrowed,
The blanket weighs me down.
Heat is rising at a rapid pace,
And my thoughts become colder.

The blanket is now
chaining me down,
And I feel useless.
I want to help another,
But I cannot help their case.
It violently tears me open
To be unable to help them.
And as I think further,
The blanket grows thicker,
And tighter.

Jun.9.2019

I’m bleeding happiness
I watch it flow, a cheerful ruby red.
No time for the cold regrets and darkness
I cannot go back upon the path i was lead
The pain is the best thing that I’ve felt
It’s a wonderful, blissful feeling.
It makes me fall in a temporary relief. i gladly melt.
Until my body starts retching and reeling,
Im keeping things the way they’ve been.
I love the blood, i love to watch it flow
It has a wonderfully rose sheen
Especially when the wound starts to grow
Why cannot you, or even anyone see,
That i am ok with this happening to me?

Nov.28.2019
Love lies.
It turns you on but turns you off.
Not sexually, but communication wise.
You want to speak,
Toss words out of your mouth
Like a panther just unchained.
However, you cannot speak.
You can only stare on as she turns away.

As she turns away once again.
You seem to notice that more.
Every time she walks off,
Says goodbye,
Leaving once again.
You invest hope in the questionable God,
Pray that she’ll come back and talk again.
She almost never does.

You hafta lie to your friends,
Saying you’re completely fine...
But you can only say a trailing
“Yeah...”
As you stare at her.

You want to be by her side,
You want to have someone lean on you.
The darkest times will always haunt,
You want her to help your fear wash away.

Someone to lean on.
Someone to hold up.
Someone to cuddle,
As the night grows cold.

You haven’t once thought about
...
That
Thing
Called
...
consummation.

Love strikes you out of nowhere,
It’s never a soft, feathery, padded strike.
It’s quick, hard, and piercing.
Claws or a knife are probably involved.

Through time’s distorted glass,
I’m led to believe
On what you were,
Not on what you’ll be.

It’s sad to see
This distortion affect me,
But now it’s my reality.

Spiders weaving golden threads,
Through our dreams
And around our silent heads.
The life running through our hair,
Attracting dreamweavers to our minds.

But all it takes is a bit of a bite,
And the once golden thread,
devolves to red,
And the once lavish life,
Disintegrates to lead.

The tug,
The pull,
The snap.

Giving way to the fall.
Time, flowing like water
Among glittering beaches.

Darkness moves in,
But a flaming defiance
Rises like a screaming gale
Along the gap
Where the string once existed.

In the flames of renewal
A new string is born,
Holding back
With a grip like thorns.

Spiraling in and out
Of a fruitful Existence,
We stand on the brink of life.

The wind has come back,
But I am vicariously feeling
Her whipping frustration.

A silently steady stream
Gusts her vile words
Into my whimpering ears.

I wish her hidden hands
Still held that feathered touch,
The likes of which held solace.

But now she bears her talons,
And is the striking hawk,
Aiming to blow my world over.

A chalkboard; a blank slate.
A place for two emotions:
white and black; love and hate.
the blank space is always black,
but the white-hot love flows over it,
covering the hate with it's purity.

But then technology came, bit by bit,
and then byte by byte, it took over,
recreating our old school chalkboard.

As this change was bound to happen,
so where my single track emotions.
A junction was coming; a railyard is ahead.
I had to change tracks, or I'd end up dead.

And so, I found my two colors,
not despairingly alone any longer.
More colors came into my world,
bursting through my mind's rusted door

Each day, new emotions flow through; red, blue, and green.
They appear like pixels, flowering up onto my blank screen.

Sitting in a throne of flame
Wondering what I could gain
By setting my mind alight,
Kindling my eyes with fire so bright.

Sending me flying off into
My world of unsurpassed vibrance,
Seeing if my will holds true
Through tests of strength and stance.

Off the precipice I fly,
Soaring yet higher into the sky.
A new world awaits my mind,
But for now, I’m soaring free and blind.

Cleaving through the stilling silence,
Like an ocean’s crushing roar.
The dulling gray sky
Becomes a lightless void
With a scream of defiance,
Splitting the essence of noise.

Left with a silence so warm,
But it’s just the calm before the storm.

Soundless,
emotionless.
but emotion flowers up
like blackened roses,
but never shadowed lilies.

Words are a force to be reckoned
and I forgot my own strength.

Honesty isn't always
the best policy.

My mind is racing,
My heart is rushed.
My thoughts are pacing,
And my face’s flushed.

How can I take back
The last thing said?
It’s courage I lack,
So now my mind’s in red.

A night of nights
This might just be.
Lefts from rights?
My mind’s jumbled tree.

Forgetting even the most simple of things,
Let’s see what other stupidity this brings!

The glistening tide
Flowing in
From the sunset’s side.

A splashing red surf
The flow of a molten ocean.
But the red turns to black
As the sun finally turns it’s back.

A million stars to light the dusk,
A million lights to paint the mire.

Now I’ve found what I desire.

Light clouds
softly dance
along this azure sky.

The wind
lies unseen,
unheard,
and unfelt
along these vernal days.

As much as I freeze
in her gusty presence,
I can't help
but miss the company.

Spiraling through the sharpened skies,
Slicing at the wind
With a blade sharper than air.
We say all’s fair,
But with a corrupt mind and body
Do I have any right to endorse it?

In a world of bladed air,
The act of falling
Hurts more than the impact.

The river flows forth,
Like a vermillion serpent,
Gliding effortlessly
Through the morning mist.

Maybe silence is what I need
A break, away from love and greed.

An obsession of possession
And a possession of obsession.

How much longer
Before I turn deaf
In the dimming static
Of this forsaken planet.

Fluorescent shadows
Quake on the concrete.
Like autumn leaves
In a solitary plain,
The ****** and disappear.

Shadows of men I don’t see,
I guess they’ll always be there,
Haunting me.

Math is a wonderful subject.
Pushing numbers through
Variously evil algorithms.

But I cannot stop writing
During this intriguing class.
I want to listen, and I do
But I’m also weaving verses
Made up of muddy threads.

My math notebook has
A large quantity of poems.
And finding that one formula
Is like looking for that one minnow
In a pond of vexingly vigorous carps.

Slashing through
The silver visage
Of a golden dream.
Snapped open
With the clap of a book
That cleanly split an
Eternally unified sky,
And resonated through
This stagnant planet.

Time fades beyond the horizon
Like a gentle crisp breeze
Pulling the autumnal leaves into the air.

Should we stop pretending?
We’re in the house of flies.
There’s only our loss;
Nailed to the cross.

You’ve lost your wings,
And I’ve got no courage…
Who are we to begin to flourish?

Two skies
sitting up high,
Fading.

Two suns
Watching them fall,
Laughing.

One world
Seeing the collapse,
Crying.

Listening to cows
and the cars, far below me.
This bench's a safe spot.

Surprises
Come
From
The
Most
Unanticipated
Places
At
Times,
Man.

The sky runs a dim orange,
reflecting the distant sun's dying light,
telling me that the day's final act
is on its final leg.

(the other was broken
after a saying
was taken literally)

A purple draws in,
as does the red velvet curtains.
The theater has emptied
except for those
who had tickets
to the night show as well.

Like the song
Of a stone;
Sing along,
All alone.

Pushing,
Seeping,
Leaking.
It’s all tangled up inside.

Disintegration is temporary,
But the damage is eternal.