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Mar 2016 · 683
Jo Baez Mar 2016
I've disconnected myself from reality.
I'm walking on scarlet skies and these clouds seem to hold me upright.
My skins peeling like falling rain.
My hands feel fictional because I don't feel the weight of anything.
I can see the world decaying from this inverted state.
Jo Baez Mar 2016
A lingering melody from a metallic vibrating needle machine,
sings in my eardrums.
Thoughts become art,
melted in Ink.
Descending into my epidermis.
As pain travels and escapes through my body.
My face molds and breaks into minuscule painful multiple aches of gestures within every ardent minute.
As the artist cuts into the brain of fiction.
Dipping his metallic paint brush machine into it's blood.
And carving aesthetic realism into his human canvas.
Mar 2016 · 191
Jo Baez Mar 2016
Why is it that at the end of the road.
Is where we tend to find what we're longing for ?
Feb 2016 · 487
Jo Baez Feb 2016
Every now and then I lay awake at night.
Staring out my window as the moonlight covers me in bedsheets made of allusions piercing through my half-shut curtains.
Reminding me to pray, even though there's no gods to pray too.
Faith escapes through my finger tips and I've learned so graciously to live being lost.
I've learned to unconditionally love the angst in my veins and embrace the pessimist that I am.
Feb 2016 · 256
Jo Baez Feb 2016
These walls are paper thin.
I can hear faint arguments,
resemble politics.
Fathers a democrat, & mothers a republican.
Voices get lost in the distance of my mind.
I picked up a pen,
walked up to my father, cut open his stomach, & wrote obstinate on his liver. Then I walked towards my mother, slit open her chest,  & wrote sadness on her tacit heart.
I proceeded into my little sisters room, carefully removed her ears, & wrote Innocence across her tiny eye lids.
Midway distance between my room &
the front door to the outside world.
I got lost again, roaming in my head for the third time that day.
Found my way unto my bed.
I layed down to closed my eyes and woke up to a new day.
Yet the same sounds again.
Feb 2016 · 937
Jo Baez Feb 2016
You never really know,
How much you **** at life.
Till you write a resume.
Feb 2016 · 498
Love Abortion
Jo Baez Feb 2016
We danced & intertwined like experienced virgins on her bedroom sheets.
Copulation ignited, Seemed like fantasy.  
She gave birth to love but in the end.
She regrets calling off the abortion.
Feb 2016 · 333
How You Been
Jo Baez Feb 2016
I stopped having nightmares & started daydreaming.
As I stepped off the ledge to fall head first into this dormant abyss.
Lucky me, I ate black bird feathers, and started growing wings.
It's easier done than said.
I woke up to a stranger to myself.
Like riddles in form of DNA strands.
My thoughts shape shifting.
so I never know what to say when someone starts to ask
"How you been"
Feb 2016 · 850
Jo Baez Feb 2016
I wrote merit words like "love, regret, hate, sorry"
Then it turned to short run-on sentences like" forgive me, I say sorry more than I mean it, I ******* hate you, "on black & blue balloons. I tied them to your limbs to keep you balanced.
But one day I came back to cut the strings and as I they flew through a sea like sky.
I realized I can't take them back now.
Feb 2016 · 415
Jo Baez Feb 2016
Reality feels surreal on dry eyes.
Like a bed of withered flowers growing in my brain.
I'm ******* on melancholy memories.
Got a death wish but death wished to **** me slowly.
Times the real reaper.
Scythes made of minutes & hours.
But I wane the hands on the clock like  frozen time frames.
Feb 2016 · 274
Jo Baez Feb 2016
I said I could be the most neutral person in the world but jealousy, uncertainty , insecurity, will always come unexpectedly, and naturally.
I said "it's not that I don't trust you.
I just won't  ever sink my teeth into the idea.
That I found a person that made me feel like I'm floating on water."
And the thought of her finding better or deserving greater.
Will always come as an itch in my brain,
that I cannot scratch.
Feb 2016 · 595
Music Box
Jo Baez Feb 2016
I cut her vocal chords & stitched her mouth shut.
To keep her voice from emanating like petrichor.
I stored her echoes inside a music box to sing me to sleep.
Feb 2016 · 231
Jo Baez Feb 2016
.I pulled my eyelids out with my fingertips.
Trying to find a dim light in the this pitch blackness.
Shadows swimming in my
I'm eating my problems, & my sorrows, to feed my hollow
starving stomach.
I could puke a gazillion ways to solve them.
Yet I still isolate the truth by eating my silence & stitching my mouth shut.
Feb 2016 · 1.1k
Feathers & Wings
Jo Baez Feb 2016
Buried in crow feathers, the Devils in their eyes & he fed me
I'm disconnected, as I stare into the blood scarlet sky.
Filled with black splatter paint brushed birds.
One by one dove down to peck at my flesh & take a piece of my wings.
One by one dove down to peck at my bones & take a piece of my limbs.
Wings made of corroding, sweet  memories, keep growing back out of misery to feed reality.
Jan 2016 · 516
We Were
Jo Baez Jan 2016
We were two weird birds of the same feathers.
One melancholy morning,
you decided to break my wings.
I reciprocated by
poking holes in your chest.
Our love felt mellifluously ephemeral.
Like our favorite memory in a distant yesterday.
We glide eloquently in elegance with no sense of direction.
As you stained my cloudy skies with a craving for disparage lust.
Jan 2016 · 363
Jo Baez Jan 2016
If I could cut the pieces off this so called god's flesh & feed it to the poor, I would.
So they wouldn't starve or grow hungry again.
If I could sever this so called god's bones & distributed to the homeless, I would.
So they could built a home & shelter themselves from agony.
If I could carve out this holy gods heart & organs, I would.
So I could commence humanities peace surgery.
I'd  free all humans from this disease called unconditional war & misery.
If I could encapsulate this divine god's tears, I would.
So I could spread them like rain & heal humanities pain.
If I could... I would... But sadly I can't.
Jan 2016 · 713
Jo Baez Jan 2016
I clipped the silhouetted feathers off a crows wings and stitched them to your back.
So you can fly to heaven.
Heavens in my thoughts, my words, my mind.  
It's where I keep you alive.
Jan 2016 · 706
Notes (I)
Jo Baez Jan 2016
I undress her every weekend night.
To fill her insides with expired love & lust.
As thoughts & images of him shapeshift inside her head.
I feel like a stained glass artist.
Broken fragments after fragments, restore, recovered, painting over this mind of hers.
To hide the regret, shame, pain, & dignity,
She's thrown away for me.
He had you, you had him.
Now I have you & I don't want you.
Jan 2016 · 338
Notes (Her)
Jo Baez Jan 2016
"I can careless, that you're hurt.
You deserve this & more "
She swore & wore hate perfectly on her skin as a dress.
Jan 2016 · 554
Notes (Him)
Jo Baez Jan 2016
Him -
"I love her down to her very existence,
I love her inconsistently, unconditionally, with flaws at seam.
But it seems that her love for me was elsewhere & so was she."
Jan 2016 · 277
Notes (To Him, Her, & I)
Jo Baez Jan 2016
Love wasn't meant for everyone.
Sometimes we come to terms & terms themselves have unfold in idle form.
Loving someone from head to toe, skin, flesh, & soul.
Doesn't mean much anymore.
Jan 2016 · 1.1k
Jo Baez Jan 2016
Maybe I sacrificed too many parts of myself for your ritual.
You ate all of my flesh and everything I had left to give.
Maybe I fed you the wrong body parts.
Maybe I fed you the wrong skin.
Now I'm dead living or half alive somewhere inside you.
Until you digest me in a year or two.
Maybe if you cut open your head and perfomed surgery on your brain.
You would find me swimming in the deepest corners of your mind or consciousness but we both know that's fictional.
Jan 2016 · 448
Jo Baez Jan 2016
My thoughts stopped visiting my brain.
My imagination got lost somewhere in the infinity of my aloneness but I don't feel loneliness.
I'm a walking comatose and I feel so futile, so deterrent of myself.
But I guess these feelings are inevitable.
Maybe I'm too afraid to sit in a sail boat without a paddle and drift into the sea.
Maybe the circumspec of my cowardliness, has dived so deep into the depths of mind.
I don't feel alive, I don't feel alone,
I don't feel numb anymore.
I used to believe that pain was the God of life.
For if pain didn't exist, I wouldn't know what being alive meant.
Not even if it shrunk into a tiny razor blade and cut an entrance on scars or scabs on my body.
To rediscover past wounds and lessons learned.
Just to make me feel humility or little more human.
Maybe I'm just caught in between that moment before unconsciousness strikes.
When the lack of oxygen slowly expires.
As you gasp for air and grasp for something to breath life back into your soul again.
Jan 2016 · 478
Jo Baez Jan 2016
You were talking in your sleep again.
Finally admitted your mistakes but it's too late.
I'm awake laying in bed, the waters rising, my pillows wet.
Where did all this water come from?
You spoke late night diatribes, sweet nothings and the waters up to my ears.
I can't hear ****, the waters rising again.
I'm staring at the ceiling and it took form of scarlet, vanillas skies.
I'm almost underwater now, my lips, and the tip of my nose are touching the surface.
My visions a blur, I'm drowning alive.
I finally figured out the origin of the artificial forming body of water in my room.
All this water is coming from you, from the leakage in your mouth, truth saliva.
Your somniloquy song usually last thirty seconds.
I guess, the only time you can speak honesty, is when you're sleep talking.
Jan 2016 · 427
Jo Baez Jan 2016
I fell in love with a beautiful koi fish
One jaded day she swam up stream and didn't comeback
I've been fishing in the rain
Baiting her
Then one miserable day
She swam downstream and came back
they say"por la voca muere el pez"
And you took the bait
now you're dead.
I'm left wondering why do I keep feeding the fish that dies and reincarnates
To leave , whirlpools , maelstroms , and broken waterfalls inside of my brain.
"por la voca muere el pez"(through the mouth dies the fish)
Jan 2016 · 433
Jo Baez Jan 2016
All the love in the world couldn't compare to the love I had for you
If the oceans dried up, rivers evaporated, streams and all bodies of water dissipated
My love for you would fill the worlds water supply and overflow it.
I'm like vine roots growing on your masonry surface.
Hidden in the cracks of your structure walls.
It became abundantly clear that love didn't chemically reconstruct in your brain.
I guess, I'm obsess with being depress over you or obsess in love with you.
But I know history has shown we've always been on completely different terms. All you want is my presence because time has convince you that you miss it. But that's all you want.
I on the other hand don't miss you. I want you in your complete form.
I'm obsess with your pearly white straight teeth . You never needed braces.
I'm obsess with your round shape eyes . They stood out like your round shape cheeks.
I'm obsess with your artificial dimples.
But your face has always looked so perfectly flawless naked.
Your outer beauty will never compare to your inner ugly.
Yet somewhere deep inside your ugliness
I found happiness.
Or so I believed.
Jan 2016 · 952
Family Tradition; Comfort
Jo Baez Jan 2016
Brothers why?
Do you stare out the window
at passing crows.
As they fly north,
Taking your dreams with them.
Sisters why?
Do you stare at old pictures, reminiscing.
Wondering where your hopes went.
They became congualated in picture frames.
Father why?
Do you drown yourself in alcohol and dig your own grave.
You're a hardworking man
And your elixir is home.
Just let go of the drunken hate.
Mother why?
Do you stay at home and let the years leaf you by.
You have a life to live, you had love to spread, and give.
We became leafs blowing in the wind
With no direction.
It's sad to say,
comforts become our family tradition. Conformity slowly killed our pride and foundation.
Jan 2016 · 628
Jo Baez Jan 2016
I fell for it again
So here I am
Laying in bed
Why don't you love me?
Or did you love me at all?
Your love disguised in alibis
ramshackles my mind
I love you more than words could describe
I love you more than this world could understand
I fell for it again
So here I am
Writing you another poem
Feeling like a ghost
As you see right through me
As you walk right pass me
I fell for it again
And I've discovered a theory
I'm not afraid of heights
It's the impact that scares me
I fell for it again
Alessandra, I fell for you again.
Jan 2016 · 532
Letters to Hannya
Jo Baez Jan 2016
Love & hatred gave birth to her
Envy & anger consumed her
Betrayal & jealousy perfumed her
wrapped in a dress made of irony
*Disarrayed strands of hair fell upon her resentful & suffering eyes
She was a complexity of passionate human emotions thrown into disorder
But she was beautiful like the unfurling of scattered cherry blossoms blooming in winter.
Poem off my book of poems
titled "Letters to Hannya"
Jan 2016 · 2.5k
Ramen; Noodle Queen
Jo Baez Jan 2016
I had dinner again at our favorite Japanese ramen restaurant
I sat next to your fading presence and the lucky cat statue
Had the usual ramen noodles, pork broth, spicy miso, and your favorite side dish
Then got drunk off a pitcher, hot sake, and your absence
A crowded room leafed over until
I was the last one to leave
I sat in my car out in the parking lot listening to your favorite acoustic song "I don't mind"
Then clarity opened the passenger door sit and sat next to me
I realized that night, during that moment
That being alone wasn't too bad but I was still completely lost without you
A poem off a book of poems I'm writing called "Letters To Hannya"
Jan 2016 · 971
Fishing For Books
Jo Baez Jan 2016
Falling in & out of love with you
Is a lot like walking into a library...
I'll let the readers give their own definition, idea, poetic thoughts, to complete the poem. "To Each Their Own"
Jan 2016 · 410
Buried In My Mind
Jo Baez Jan 2016
I awoke covered in autumn leaves under a dying tree.
A dead cold breeze flees & returns through out me.
As if I had holes in my body & the wind doesn't acknowledge me.
Melancholy fog shelters this cemetery
While I lay here, my face against the graveyard grass.
My head tilted to the right, staring at written dates on tombstones without engraved epitaphs.
There lays the buried graves of my past selfs
Jan 2016 · 394
Jo Baez Jan 2016
If the ghost of Sylvia Plath
would haunt my mind
Inspiration would ignite
like the strike of a match upon
the lips of a cigarette
Jan 2016 · 759
Agony, the Cousin of Pain
Jo Baez Jan 2016
You cut my fingers off
One by one, by one, by one
Till my hands were left
with nothing to hold
The moment you left
A dull embrace
Searching for relief at arms length
Trying to grasp clarity fingerless
Jan 2016 · 413
Heart Surgeon
Jo Baez Jan 2016
I dissected the pieces of your heart that built the home you placed me in when you said
"I love you and you'll have always have a place in my heart"
and stitched them to your wrist
So every time you think of me
You can cut yourself and I hope you reach your veins
Blood mixed in purposely thought out alibis is all I see
Spilling, dripping, down your fingertips
As I hold out my tongue
To taste the truth you bleed
Jan 2016 · 299
Writers Block
Jo Baez Jan 2016
Writers block struck a chord
I swallowed my hand holding the pen
It traveled down to my stomach
The ink spilled, it mixed with last nights alcohol and made me *****
Now my hands on the floor
Covered in my regrets
I'm leaking creativity from the holes in my liver, not in my head.
Jan 2016 · 350
Jo Baez Jan 2016
Lately I've felt like
I been swimming in the sky
Confused & emotionless
While the ocean cries upwards in my direction
Yet for some odd reason
every tiny water drop has been avoiding me
& I'm completely soaked in some sort of complex melancholy
Jan 2016 · 594
I Wonder
Jo Baez Jan 2016
If letting go makes me feel like a bad person
If moving on makes me feel angst in my veins
If saying I love you & farewell
Make me feel guilty
& it spreads through my body like cancer
Then I wonder if cheating ever made you feel like a filthy ******* human being
Jan 2016 · 1.1k
Pillow Talk
Jo Baez Jan 2016
Fleeting thoughts came and went
Like airplanes in airports
As I stay up most nights
Having pillow talks with your cheetah print pillow
speaking of moments, memories, and your saliva stains
From the way you used too drool
on my bedsheets still remain
A funny fossilized idea
I hold dearly
overthinking that one day
I would wake up
And your presence would suddenly exist in the empty space you created
Threads of your autumn hair fall on my face, like crossing vacant corridors through unseen spider webs
And the smell of your favorite French perfume, that I cannot pronounce
disintegrates into the air I breath
And your medium size **** in lace ******* against my crotch in stripe boxers
Never ignited lust in my mind
Just admixture love, comfort &
as I dived Inside you until your soul reached its ******
then in a burst of wither time
one day you dissolved into my bed.
Jan 2016 · 665
Jo Baez Jan 2016
Silhouetted feathers, dipped in Unfathomable pain, rain inside my room.
And the monster under my bed has awoken again. Feeding on my mind and the emotions I emulate
His cold, dead, hands wrapped around my brain
I can hear his voice inside my head his wondering thoughts keep me cold like bed sheets

Sometimes I wonder
If these walls could speak
What would they say after catching wind of everything they've absorbed
When I yelled my rage, distress, and disbelief at them

Sometimes I wonder,
If this ceiling had eyes
could it see
Me in a bipolar state of mind
as I write in this notebook
my moments of sadness, malice, and agony

Sometimes I wonder
If these walls were alive
have I slowly been watching them die
As I stabbed them a million times
With my lingering thoughts

And if these walls could walk
Would they walk away and leave me here
In such a lonely world
laying in my bed drowning in this shame
Buried in bones
As the skeletons inside my closet
dance above my body, & soul
in this rain made of nostalgic feathers
And the monster under my bed has replaced the monster inside my head.
Jan 2016 · 214
Jo Baez Jan 2016
They say that hell is a repetition of the worse moments in your life.
If hell exist, I'm happy to say
I'll be seeing you when I'm dead
Jan 2016 · 563
Poetic Misery
Jo Baez Jan 2016
My mind afloat a pool of sadness
as I lay here in my bed on the day of my birth name
Without you by my side
Remember that rainy day ? That storm ? Where we got stuck on the side of the freeway?
I never felt so ******* alive and loved by someone in my life
You probably don't remember but I said I would love you in the future a million times more than in the past

It's sad to say, I still feel exactly the same way
after you said you loved me
while salivating over him and his spit still on your lips and the shame you couldn't admit
Hiding behind your mask made out of sweet nothings, and alibis
as your ghost stands host of my vacant mind

Slit my ******* throat and try to stitch it with the promises you couldn't keep
Cut my ******* heart out and try to make it palpitate with your sympathy
drag me down to hell
So I can cauterize in your wrongdoings
Or throw me up to heaven
so I can asphyxiate in your globs holy ******* greatness
So he can watch me suffocate in love lost and heartaches and feel the greatest pain of all humanity
A broken ******* heart

Ive spend the rest of the year trying to find you in everything
Like hopeless romantic films, sad songs, and aesthetic, melancholy sceneries
Finding excuses to feed my rage
So I can hate you because that's all I have left at the end of my fingers tips

I got a hole in my soul and I wish I was dead, not literally but I feel that way
And as soon as the hands on the clock bend forward to strike 12am
I'm going out of frequency and
You're the only human in the world I wanna see
the only person in all the parallel universes and boundless worlds
Who I wanna be with
No matter Where or why and how many times
I find myself drowning in time
While this plays out infinitely, indifferently, badly, or chaotically
I would spend my life searching for that one world, that one life
Where I wake up next to you and you exist to fill in that empty space on my bed

Love & hate are raging inside of me
And this might sound ironic
But theres one thing I regret
is letting you go for the sake of not having to feel the pain you caused me

Thanks for the birthday wishes, melting candles, and agony.
Jan 2016 · 293
Life Feels Like
Jo Baez Jan 2016
Life feels like playing an acoustic guitar with papercuts on my fingertips
Jan 2016 · 293
Without Arrows
Jo Baez Jan 2016
Nostalgia restrings like kites back to you
You've ran out of arrows to shoot me down with and I used to be the string in your bow that held you together
Now I'm just another passing target
you wounded, ****, and left in derelict
Jan 2016 · 238
Jo Baez Jan 2016
Time wraps it's hour hand around my neck, asphyxiating me
While the minute hand runs a dagger of reality through my temple and cuts me open
To spill the real consciousness of time, inside my head
I've been walking around bleeding out
With hope in my heart, pretending that love could last forever
Jan 2016 · 523
Jo Baez Jan 2016
My minds swelling up with thoughts of you
like air balloons in July
I can't help but feel polluted
My heads unraveling, I'm tired, restless, and I'd be lying to myself
If I said I didn't miss your presence
Eventually I'll reach the end of my heights
I'll burst into debri and I hope it decends on you like rain made out of memories
And while you're drowning in my thoughts
my love, I'll say, how beautiful you look drenched in pain.
Jan 2016 · 871
Jo Baez Jan 2016
If I could cut open your mouth
& make you stomach my thoughts
Would trust bloom like flowers from your throat & out your lips?
Jan 2016 · 494
Jo Baez Jan 2016
"No one loves a flower when it withers away"

He navigates on hope and will
With no sense of direction
Surviving only on memories and inspirations
A castaway
In search of something more than destiny
Something more than storms and uncertainties
I am the map you navigate
Jan 2016 · 277
Bastard Son
Jo Baez Jan 2016
I have to be honest with myself
I'll never live up to my old man's expectations
I'll never be my mother's pride or joy
I'm the ******* son,
the one who made the choice...
I made a choice to follow my hopes and dreams
Against all odds and every struggles life throws at me
because it's so easy to give up and it's so easy to fail yourself
I won't fail myself
I won't give up
Passion is all I have
Is what keeps me alive fighting for what I believe in
Jan 2016 · 291
Carry On
Jo Baez Jan 2016
We live In a balance we cannot maintain
A cycle of despair and pain
In a world where a moment of peace can't exist without war
And Love without hate
Overwhelm by the struggle in our life's and the loneliness in our minds
Some are content and some are satisfied
Still we carry on
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