When I read those messages
I can’t help but laugh
In my vast contempt
At the figure you represent.

You boast a similarity to him
Reminding me of my blunder
That sent my mind and heart asunder.
I do not hate you or him,
Far from that fact.
I hate myself,
For my awful tact.

One step too far.
One step off line.
One step, all my fault.

One step
And I’m reluctant to return.

Suicide to joy,
Cyanide to happiness,
2019 held a lot.
From sudden love
To soft rejections
And a hard ones as well.

But now 2020 is around the bend,
So I bathe in my raven black darkness,
Waiting for the clock to turn up a year,
An hopefully my life will move with it.

The years won’t testify
The light I’ve lit.
Standing off the edge
And rusting into oblivion,
I stand, united in my scream;
It’s the only way I am whole

As I lay in this field,
The sun shines its rays upon my skin.
A shadow is created upon the
Opposing side of my delicate body,
Darkening the once golden grass,
Now degraded to a lackluster bronze.

My shaded half is becoming uncomfortably cool,
Because Jack Frost nibbles at the exposed skin,
Seeing it as a wonderful midmorning snack.

My better half, however,
Shines with a soft, unobstructed glow.
Filled with a calming, serene warmth
Generated by the ever shining sun,
I continue to lay in my solitary love of myself...

But as I lay here,
I realize that I don’t know
Why I despise all of myself so severe.

I can read and write,
therefore I can bleed and fight.
Bleeding through all the troubles thrown,
and fighting back with art, the art of English.

The problem, whatever it may be,
will not cause me to fail nor perish.
I shall move onward, towards the next sunrise.

My words are the vessel of my vitality,
so if push comes to shove I will rise,
above the death that encompasses my reality.

My words are a dull sword,
used to parry and ward,
not to slash and make bleed,
as the words of others over-do that deed.

Like clockwork;
Running on broken gears.
Seconds distorting
Beyond the minute gaze
Of the hourly chime.

The cliff looms over like a monolith,
Radiating a ghastly aura.

I can’t bring myself to cut ties
Even if I know that their eyes
Hold a different light than before.

There’s no way I can leave now.

The monolith stands above
And I need to find the top.

Paradise is just over this precipice,
So why can I no longer see it?

I built a castle,
And burned it down,
Watching the ashes fall
And fireflies rise.

A paper castle of much grandeur
Can’t hold a candle to a flame.

Misery fills me unforgivingly, once more,
But this time, it pushed me out the door.

I ran out with an unrequited rage,
Against the world that taunts me.
I took one breath after another,
Melding into the rhythm of my steps.
The darkness became my world
As the sun was shot out of the sky
By a luminescent arrow,
Only to be replaced by the “innocent” moon.
Yet I move on, step by step, trail by trail,
until I find my way home.

Now I am cold,
Fatigued,
Sore

And still full of misery

Squirming out of the rubble,
I stand on an empty battlefield.

No thoughts of war remain,
And no matter how much
I rack my brain,
I cannot feel war’s breath
Or even her pain.

A push back to reality,
A play full of comity,
And a couple of songs,
Brought end to the calamity.

Still in disarray,
My body will pay
For tricking me
In such an awful way.

Where I might go?
I do not know,
But I feel that I’ll start to
Follow my blood’s flow.

On a night like last I sat fearing,
Looking at the wall, almost peering.
The depths in each crack seemed endless,
It’s volume etched into my remembrance.

A certain feeling aroused a subtle gleaming.
In this darkness, our darkness began teeming.
In that moment, my lungs stopped the rhythmic breathing,
And my life swiftly ended by a tiny widow’s scheming.

Weaving through the static noise,
Black and White fills the void.
Inside my mind, I put away the toys;
For all is not yet destroyed.

The sun’s main flame
Appears to glow tame,
But life’s never that docile.
Peace will always take awhile.

Dec.28.2019

I feel sick.
The nauseating waves of emotion
flooding my body in one continuous motion,
as if it wants to drag me out to its seventh sea;
a glacially boiling reverie full of flash-frozen icicles.

The past five days have built block upon shadowed block,
and I'm losing sight of my own deceptively delusional reality.
Why have things taken such a sick and twisted turn towards my hell?
I want my ******* knife, I want to see my one and only solace,
I want to see my vibrant blood, full of self despising vigor.

It’s different.
It racks every node
Inside my frail body.
It’s different...

But it isn’t awful,
In fact,
It’s enjoyable.

Swimming through the void,
I hear your words,
I lose myself
Just to find you holding me.

The time slows to a crawl,
And I’m warmed by the light you’ve brung.
Your words are preached and sung,
The words hit as comfort,
But not comprehension.

Swirling colors
And vibrating air,
Filling my world;
Shaking my spine.

The world has moved so much
And now I’m moving off a lifeline.

Now I fall.
The realm of ash awaits,
And I hit the ground with a flume.

Three crows
Upon a line.
Three crows
Here to dine.

Lines are drawn
Upon the sky’s
Deep blue lawn.
The third crow
Was just a pawn.

Two crows,
Where’s the third?
Who knows.

My mistress of sleep,
Slowly, silently, and seductively
Slips off her vantablack velvet robe,
And squeezes herself into my head.

She beckons in my mistress of dreams,
And seduces my mind into a sleepy *******...
Of sleep.

What else could it have been...
Jeez~! you people have ***** minds...

The flame,
long since thinned,
Snuffed out by the wind

Only ashes remain,
Set to rekindle their flame.

All it takes is a small spark
To set the world ablaze
And leave us all in the dark

A slice cuts at what’s free,
But now all is balanced.

As all things should be.

Tugging at my eyes
With the gentle touch
of a light-bathed savior,
Time has once again
Caused me to lapse
Into the world of waking dreams.

Reading what I hear
But all I hear is latin;
The voices in the confusion.

Spikes cloud my vision,
Disintegrating the border
Of self-awareness.

How many more times
Will I die
Before I find life
In its scarcest places?

Venomous voices
Tempting fate.

Listless lisping
And culling words.

Silence prevails,
Pervading my guilt...

And feeding my
Venomized thoughts.

I’ll do it in a poem bc this is a poetry website.

With each that comes along,
A timer is set upon them.
Why let the timer be?
When defusal is possible.

Why let the bomb explode
When just being friends is fun?

Living stagnant is painful
But losing to the timers
While time is stopped
Pains me more.

I have a question for you, A:
Why make me decide
Between two paths?

There’s always a third,
Right down the middle.

There’s always someone
Who you’ll be able
To make smile.

So if you won’t believe in yourself,
Then believe in the me
That believes in you,
And your dreams can come true.

It only takes a bit of weight
To make a thread snap.
I only need a bit more
Before I break,
And bleed onto the floor.
The vorpal blade lies dormant,
Hidden under a nightstand,
Unwanted for months.
Soon, it will be saved by a hand,
And then its restrictions smash,
Letting its vampiric urges
Run wild, draining my veins.
It is the light that the darkness purges.

As cinders rise
From the ashen flame,
Drops of icy thoughts
Quench the fire
Of my heated rebellion;
A suicidal plan.

Dripping blood
Each and every
Blissfully painful day
Had many consequences.

No longer
Will my thumb sit
Without a sun kissed tint
And scars to glaze it.

No longer
Will I feel
That spiking pain
In my left wrist or thumb.

But...
Now...
Any wounds
On my left hand,
Or even that arm,
Close faster
Than ever.

I am a poet,
Who is only 16.
I am:
****** in speech,
Lacking a lot of street smart,
But in fact rather book smart.

A 16 year old boy,
Who watches cute anime,
Is incredibly weak to cute things,
Is buying an acoustic guitar...

And listens to metal music.
KORN, TOOL, Slipknot, and Disturbed
ICE NINE KILLS, shinedown, and Atreyu.
These wild bands help me get pumped up.

This is who I am, and will be
forever, if time allows
This is just me.
Another unknown poet.

It’s only when I’m alone
Have my skills ever grown.
In solitude I continue to hone,
And make this language my own.
Maybe eventually she’ll be blown
Away by the world that I’ve flown.

Today I’ll silently ***** and moan,
But tomorrow my skill will be shown.

Maybe i never wanted it,
Simple formalities
To bore those who stand informal.

Maybe I couldn’t give it,
Slippery slopes
Taking away my ability to feel.

But really,
You didn’t want it,
So I never gave it.

It always seems to be those
Who think of themselves as weeds,
That end up being the prettiest roses.

Buoyed to the blood of our planet,
And anchored to our machines of war.
The human race cannot keep digging
Into this blood soaked shoal anymore.
Or a volcano will open up the ocean floor,
And destroy our abundant life, living nevermore.

Among the silence
A voice shall call.
The delicate noise
Making earthquakes
In this songless forest.
A silence will follow,
And the silky song missed.

Maybe as time continues
Our wounds will fade,
And we can go back
To something like
How it was
Before.

Saving others...
For their sake or mine?
It’s all a platter
For my ego to dine.

It’s a criminal system
Deserving destruction,
So I’ll destroy it.

As long as my heart keeps beating,
It will keep unrequitedly loving.

I’m fine
But People say
I’m not fine
And I know they’re wrong
Two wrongs aren’t a right

Wonderful
Isn’t
It

Off of the precipice
I triumphantly march
Through my expectations

I could never be better
As I am now
I know this fully well.

Wide and vast,
A world has stood.
Lucky to be
Unparalleled
In the eyes of man.
Gracious fields of grass, and
Indefinably blue seas rule.

A planet made for all.

I can't help myself
from the abrupt distraction
of that tiny fly

Vapors stand in strands,
Left to stain the sky.
Showing like an open wound,
Left behind by the wind’s talons.
Bleak and gray,
They insist on remaining;
Watching me fray;
Watching my silent decay.

Among life’s bountiful fruit,
The silent world is absolute.

The shadows drape their silky cloak
Upon a sleeping shoulder.
They’ll take their child’s arm
And drag him to the beholder.

The light grows brighter,
But his shoulders grow colder.

The kernel blows up,
Popping it’s solid shell,
And expanding into
An amazing...
And delicious form.

The kernel
Of a computer
Is the same,
Except the astounding amazingness
Comes from the interactiveness
With a hunk of silicon and copper.

Disclaimer: please don’t eat any circuitry...

I wish
Whenever I entered
My washroom of judgement,
I could look in the mirror
And question:
“Who is that handsom SOB?”

Instead,
I think of 6 random dudes.
Three look better than I do,
And three look worse,
But the latter all have girlfriends.

Summoned stars
Shining in a frigid world.
They’re so cold
So lay your hands on me;
I’ll feel alive.

Ya know,
It wasn’t so bad
Being rejected by a dude,
It never is.

Because in the end
They’re still cute!

Confusion whips up all around me;
A desert of the unexplained.
Words and phrases once meant to free
Now trap me in my pain.

A scarring biting nervous wind;
Shards of memories meant to maim.
Time is all I need to mend,
But my silence became a dying flame.

Dec.28.2019

To see this sight once again,
strikes me with a heartwarming awe.
I am alight once again,
the blue flame has consumed me again,
but it changes as does the tides,
into a vernal green flame,
flowing with flowery life.

It has changed a lot since a year ago,
even why I have done it.
I feel much better, but I wish
I really do wish,
that it didn't have to be solved like this.