Living in desperation, looking for a
Silver sliver of golden hope;
A contradictory existence I shall never find.

I just want to love and love,
Is that too much to ask?

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

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.

Strung together
Like a patchwork quilt,
Bound by a thin thread.
On top of this, a world was built.
But the thread, hued blood red
Was not strong enough
To survive the scissors
In which this girl
Had brought to my world.

Moonlight drizzles upon my lawn,
Tinting the grass with its
quicksilver luminescence.

The scattered clouds,
Drifting rapidly overhead in the
Almost nonexistent wind
Beckon in a tempest,
Shearing away the calm tension
That once roamed my yard.

Little lamb, little lamb.
Run along little lamb.
Just try to remember that
life is a ******* sham.
It honestly is quite a shame,
how you continue to persist
and take part in their game.

The cards were marked from the start,
yet you still innocently play along,
getting ****** over by men with no heart.
In this story, You're the main part!
so go **** the men with souls of stone,
hone your weapon, make it your own,
and tear them apart, skin from bone.

As we make this mess whole,
We look into the distance, intoxicated
By the silent, corrupt vessel.
A terror once prominent, now abated.

A sickness soon to grow,
But the infection has long sat, dormant.
Break the dam, beckon in the flow,
And watch as we sing our silent lament.

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?

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.

Your silent hypocrisy;
A now faded memory.

Wishing for well
With directions to hell,
Purifying me
With oil and flame.

We weren’t meant to be,
Yet you still reside, now tame.

It’s only a matter of time
Before you rise from the grime.

A silent echo;
An internalization.
We come to reason.

Though reasons are lies;
A guise among the many.
Don’t hide your treason.

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?

Arriving with an air
Of delicate stillness,
The cold slips between our fingers,
Much like the marsh mud I threw
As a young child,
Or as the years of my life
That disappeared before me.

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

The vile thorn
Piercing like an unseen razor.
Infecting the wound
Like a midsummer overcast;
Sudden and volatile.

It whips and warps you,
A slight touch of the thorn;
A graze with death’s finger.

Within my mind the thorn resides,
An affliction to my mind.

I am dull,
I am vile.

Everyone is a ticking time bomb.

Tick tick tick

Each word I make another mistake

Tick tick tick

I feel like I am about to break

Tick tick tick

My well being is in their control...

Tick tick

The day is almost over

Tick tick

I’ve angered them once again

Tick tick

I don’t know what I did

Tick tick

But today,
I’m going up in flame,
Like every day before,
Can’t they just let me go?

TICK

The bell marks the end of another day,

BOOM

Once again
I lie in my blood,
Propped against a cold brick wall,
Wondering what I have done
To deserve all of this pain.

The melancholic melody
Brings forth the voices
Of the long lost autumn leaves.

Whispering among the winds,
Elegantly threaded echoes
Resonate with the depths of my being.

Shaken at the roots
Yet strengthened at my core,
I feel my freedom return once more.

With all our shadows comes the light,
Casting rays around,
Fueling our ever blissful delight.

The darkness brings comfort
With a touch of suffocation.
All’s not unwell, though,
For he exists too
Within this space made for two.
Silently peering,
Deathly fearful of rest
Or of a loss of control.

Both of us are but mere parts
To a far greater whole.

Streaks of rose-gold radiance
Elevate the scarlet plateau.
Through watching skies,
And ethereal cries,
The peak of the world draws near.

When all’s said for all to hear,
A hidden motive is made clear.
There’s no reigning power
As pervading as our fear.

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.

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

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

Suffocation:
A silence so potent
Where the air itself freezes,
And life no longer breathes.

Imagine
Milky white swirls

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

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.

An unspoken concept
Drifts through the air,
As if carried by the silent wind;
Her delicate touch
Disintegrating the stagnant air,
Bringing fresh life into the world.

After a moment of silence,
I pull my keys from their hiding pocket.
Their jingle, too, touched by the spirit.

Turning away from the cliff,
The screaming call of the void
Turns to a deafening silence;
The world is quiet once again,
And so is he.

In soft light,
Veiled by the air itself
Sits turquoise waters,
Emitting an aged gray
Towards distant eyes.

A soundless world,
Save the bubbles of noise
Which harbor life as we know ir.

The water’s gentle gale
Pushing lopsided blades
Towards a clashing sea;
Tossing them around the current.

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.

Loftily flowing through the air,
In the almost nonexistent breeze.
It wanders everywhere,
But is locked to one spot.

The imperfect immaculacy called life,
Flowing unrestrained through all things.
It flows with neither rhyme nor reason,
It flows without regard to the season.

From the tips of my wiry, weak fingers
To the roots of the solemnly stoic tree,
Standing proud, for many years to come.

From the lifelessly vibrant autumn leaf
To the ceaselessly soaring summer bird,
Brimming with an almost vexing vigor.

From the phenomenally frostbitten stream
To the swaying spectrum of vernal petals,
Berating the grass with their "benevolent" beauty.

As I have said before,
Life:
The imperfect immaculacy,
Chained to existence.

Hold the rain;
Follow the fall,
Catch it before the splash.

Little umbrellas
Are all I have
Lay upon the grass
And feel the silencing grasp.

Live vicariously
Through my rain;
Through my pain.

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.

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.

I’m such a coward
I run and hide from opportunity.
My regrettable cowardice
runs through my blood fluidly,
Causing my own grief.

Maybe if I was brave,
Life would’ve been better.
But I am a coward,
And I could never be proud
Of where it put me now.

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.

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.

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!

Dec.28.2019

An abyssal hole,
void of any values.
In Binary it is 0,
in Hexadecimal it is 0x0,
in words it is "   ",
and in life,
it's me.

Youthful spring,
Slowly drawing itself towards winter.
We wish it would stay forever,
But time grows old,
As all things do,
And barren days
Arrive in a haze.

All seems lost and lifeless,
But hope is not yet futile,
Because spring lies beyond
The approaching horizon.

Is it worth it to be mad;
To let myself drown in my blood?

A raging typhoon,
But only I get hurt
By the flying debris.

Why should I get mad
If it only scares others away?
I can be nice
If i want someone to return.
Being angry does nothing for me.

Dancing to the music
Which has long ended,
Static replaces
The now distorted confusion
Leaving a shimmering illusion.

Forgetfulness is an imperfect crime,
And so I truly am
Everywhere at the end of time.

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

Within unburdened walls
Lies the embrace of space
And it’s forceless relation
To the movement within us all.

Maybe it’s time
That I wake up;
Throw caution
To the wind
for once in my life.

A fleeting flame
Only needs a log
To relight it’s inferno.

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.

Slipping somewhere cold,
My grip is forever lost.
How long is the fall?

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.

Spreading wings
And releasing feathers,
The dove flies through
A ring of flame.

The scroll of negotiation
Unscathed by the battlefield.

Sticks and stones
May break these bones,
But the pain will find the past.
This is but a life lived fast,
Nothing’s meant to last.

When the crow flies,
Lost feathers fill a ream.
When the dreamer dies,
So dies their dream.

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.

Using System;

Namespace Poem
{
     Class Program
     {
          Main(string[] args)
          {
               Console.WriteLine(“1 or 0”);
               String dec = Console.ReadLine();

               bool life;

               if (desc == 1)
               {
                    life = true;
               }
               else
               {
                    life = false;
               }

               string msg = MADNESS(life);

               Console.WriteLine(msg);
               Console.ReadLine();
               life = !life;

               Console.WriteLine(life.ToString());
               Console.ReadLine();
          }

          Public Static String MADNESS(bool life)
          {
               bool suffering = false;

               if(life == true)
               {
                    suffering = !suffering;
                    return “madness ensues.”;
               }
               else
               {
                    suffering = false;
                    return “madness took over.”;
               }
          }
     }
}