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

Thawing ice
Broken glass

Falling free
Without care

Living life
Timeless times

Injuring myself on
Fragmented barriers

Shattering emotion
Destroyed by what’s lost.

Opal blades;
Freezing rain to hail,
And deftly slicing through
The iridescent frosted grasp.

As the cold is cleaved
A spectrum of vibrant glass
Echoes like a brilliant sunrise,
And life is borne once again.

Wills,
Dragging beyond minds.
Paper,
To receive the soul’s signature;
An inken mark of individuality.
Ink to paper, fire to ice,
The continuity of the duality.

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

One step
And I’m reluctant to return.

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...

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.

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.

A frosted mist lies, stagnant,
Over a glittering lonesome field.
Hanging like a martyr’s last breath
In a silent tribute to their death.

Spread your wings,
Shine your light.

Live, sink, rise, fly.
Touch, feel, sing, cry.

Remember your freedom,
Remember your imperfections.
We will all rise
In our own individuality.

A thousand miles away
I’ve got a lot left to say.
Could you not just stay
And listen for one more day?

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

As water comes to fire
A flash flood of steam ignites.
As forward memories
Reveal themselves once again,
I wonder what I thought back then.

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.

A lash of autumn wind slices at the skin,
a gentle yet firm reminder of nature's harsh personality.
With the whip arises a spray of icy water,
Its bleak gray sheen housing an unparalleled vibrancy.

The drifting tides churn in wonder and expectation,
bringing this once still and silent slate
to a monochromatic spectrum.

Within homecoming flames
And withering leaves,
Doors are opened wide
To let in a freezing tide.

As warmth covers our food and will
The food we eat becomes our ****,
Living through life’s boundless wonders
And killing through our blind blunders.

Giving thanks for lives we’ve won,
And taking them away when we’re done.
Why not feel pride in our job?
after all, our mentality is that of a mob.

Between air and ground,
Water and fire,
Lies a mountain of steam,
And daybreak’s vibrant dew.

Why does the water stick
To these blades of grass?
When all they do is slice.

Why did you
Stay to me
When all I did was hurt?

It’s a day of fun
Just one of those days,
No need to run;
It’ll all be done.

It’s an endless time
And time’s never kind,
So count my teardrops;
All hundred-eighteen of them
We’ll see this one through;
Watch the sunset’s red gem,
Then we’ll know
Time’s kindness once again.

You fade to black,
Grab a new face,
And begin to dance
In gently collected moonlight.

Time drifts around the clock
And I’m still right here.
You gather even more faces
As you teleport far away.

Floating fish,
Swimming amongst an ocean
Of turquoise atmosphere.

Clouds waver like shifting curtains;
Tossed slightly in the gentle breeze.
While the whales swim through them,
Their bodies but needles to cotton.

Filtered light lies upon the streets,
Shifting like the winded tree’s shade.
A relaxed, soft, Sunday light,
As dull as worn out blades.

Glinting light on the whales’ backs,
Shining brighter than a million eyes.
Inside this world of shimmering light,
Every existence flamboyantly flies.

You take a sugary treat,
Add some salt if it’s too sweet.

I remember every moment with her.
The mistakes i make will allow her to infer.

I want her to forgive all that I’ve done.
It’s my fault, I only ruined her fun.

All of her problems should trace back to me.
Even if I was never involved, that’s how it’s to be.

Continuing with this will break both our hearts,
Piercing our chests with barbed darts.

We leave them in, holding our regret,
These darts aren’t pulled, so we never forget.

Remembering past times is adding salt
To all the sweet things, it’s the thinker’s fault.

A soul caught in the past,
A planet covered in cables
Was never meant to last.

Fly the flags half mast,
And wait for it to pass.
Love flies up in a flume,
But why will these flowers
Never bloom?

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.

As the fire sprouts up,
The rain screams down.
Volcanoes ***** themselves,
Peeping above the sea-ceiling.
The land we live on is created,
Now we just need life
To ***** it’s soulful flame,
And populate that desolate ball.

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

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

Like a stone in the ocean,
Or a drop of water
In glistening oil,
A hole begins to fester.

Deep within my core,
The inching shadow grips my fears,
Throwing away my desires,
And beckoning my tears.

Emerald eyes;
Ones sharp enough
To cleave the soul itself
And pierce a hopeful heart.

Built to be selfless,
Yet made to self destruct.
Internal compassion
Was never meant to be
For this sorrowful existence.

Dec.27.2019

Why do I hold myself back
from what I want to do?

"To hide the overpowering disappointment.
You don't want to forever hurt yourself,
so you stay silently discreet; lay low."

But why don't I want to hear them speak?

"Again, to save your no-good cowardly ***.
You are quite the physical *******,
a lover of being cut, bruised, and bludgeoned,
but you suffer from being mentally skullfucked.
Aren't you supposed to me smart?
Maybe, just maybe, if you had confidence,
you wouldn't be talking to me;
the one person who wants you dead.
you refrain from everything,
yet you always seek counsel with me."

Because you're the only one I truly trust...

"Go **** yourself, just talk to someone else."

Thinning grains of silky sand
Slip beneath my shoes,
Undisturbed by the light breeze.

Grass stands, the opposite;
Sprouting out of the sand,
To be fumbled by the wind.
It’s slightly toasted gold
Radiating through the shade,
As if touched by fire’s kiss.

The world, in and of itself
Encompassed by a setting sun’s hug;
It’s resonating auburn arms
Spanning the pastel horizon.

Hit after hit,
The wall beats my hand.
Yet I keep on swinging,
Unable to stop the motion.
I feel my hands slowly beak
But I continue to hack away.
The skin finally tears,
Letting my miasmic blood
Flow freely like a fountain.
My bones start to show,
And their frail fragments
Drop to the ground,
Much like pebbles of icy hail.

My arms are my remaining armament,
For my hands are far too twisted and bent.
A mire of my blood becomes the floor,
My vision fades and I see nevermore.

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.

Through ashes and dust;
Pillars of rot and rust,
Accomplishments lie,
Untouched.

Seconds sail into minutes,
And minutes fly into years.
Within this corroded world,
Time is all of our material fears.

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.

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.

Taking into account
All the tension
That has come to pass,
I should have long since

Snap—   —ped

So why am I
Still standing
In one piece?

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.

Numbers rising
Like falling stars.
Galaxies away?
No...
Right outside my door.

It’s good to write of those
Who left you broken.

But I find it fulfilling
To write of those
Who still have yet to leave.
Maybe it’s my message
That they’ll receive.

Spreading feet out to the side,
Digging into both worlds’ tides.
A fork in my path lies ahead,
And now the woods
Is full if razored briars.

One or the other,
A fundamental problem
Consisting of binary.

Zero is well known
And a trusted option.

One is new
And fills me with confliction.

So much controversy,
In this second wave,
But as long as I keep my wits
She won’t notice,
And I’ll be safe.

The roses kneel
Before the trees
The shadowed reveal
Before the breeze.

The smell of rain
In the sky.
My tears are gone
And the well is dry.

Why am I welcomed
By burning pages
And culling voices?

Sometimes
I’m living in my own shadow,
Pushed into what others see.

Sometimes
I’m sticking out like neon
In large groups of people.

Sometimes
I’m still holding on
To what’s long gone.

Sometimes
I forget to let go,
And my blood seeps
Into an outward flow.

How much longer can I suppress this feeling?
It seems that my time is running out,
Faster than my own terminal velocity.
I just might consider what I see as an atrocity

I could never commit such an act!
Professing my love is a horrible move
This sounds innocent to everyone, i bet
But to her i feel emotionally in debt

She had stabilized me when I needed it most
I would have never survived leadership otherwise
She made me feel all these new emotions,
More than I can count on my fingers.

But what I want most,
Is to thank her for everything she’s done.
She doesn’t know it, but she saved my life once
And I wanna apologize as well.

I want to apologize for someone like me
To end up being the one that liked her,
I want to be with her so
I can thank and apologize without problem.

I love her,
More than I can describe,
with my current vocabulary at least.
It must sound cliche, but it’s true.

I wish I could be the one to make her smile
But I’ll end up being on the sidelines
I was never meant to be the protagonist
And life is no romantic comedy.

Why did I like her?
Se seemed cool.
No other reason.
I wish it was a better reason.

How’d I fall in love?
A moment of euphoria.
After a completed challenge,
I gazed into those eyes,
And it all snapped into place.
I wanted to hug her,
We were both swept up in the moment,
She probably would’ve resisted though.

But I have to come to terms.
She is above me, she’s the valedictorian.
I’m in a measly 4th place.
I can’t ever go out with someone out of my reach.

I want to rise up.
To third or second
To come close to her
Or even with her
Before I confess.
I cannot wait forever though,
For I cannot hold my emotions back indefinitely,
And eventually I’ll break down.

I want to help her
She seems so stressed.
She’s always smiling,
but just like me,
Her smile hides stress and pain.
I want her to smile for real
And to feel really carefree
I would shoulder her pain w-out a second thought.


It would be nice,
If she could help me too...
I don’t need it, I shouldn’t want it,
But I kind of do anyways.

Striking the light
With a force to bail the seas;
A mentality built to burn,
with the season’s cyclic turn.

A hammer on ice,
Frigid metal burning snow.
Snapping of tension,
The southern winds blow.

Let time flow as it does
And embrace my icy hands.
We’ll continue this walk together,
Because even I am not immune
To the coldly lonesome weather.

Be you.
Be what you are
Don’t try to uphold an illusion.
It will shimmer then fall,
And then you’ll be left to crawl,
Because they didn’t catch your fall.

As long as you be you as well,
I’ll be me.

With each strike of the hammer
Embers launch themselves out
From the source of such a clamor,
Seeking a space to seed doubt.

The seeds are forever sown,
But the farmers are soon neutralized
They never get to see their work grown,
They only started getting them unionized.

But each earthbound cooling spark
Is just a part of the movement’s progression.
The real movement is each hammer mark,
Created from each act of oppression.

As the weapon of war is finished,
An army rises, and an empire is diminished.

What if I created a livestream?
A video broadcasted in real time,
For all to see my dastardly crime.

All it would take is a service,
And an awfully amazing plan,
Then I’d be set, oh man!

What if I held
A livestream suicide?
For all to see my body fall
And drift out by the ocean tide.