Living with you has
Taught me that it is completely
Possible to love and hate someone
At the same time.

My hope is sequestered in a black void; it is hopelessly adrift in a tumultuous mass of negativity that devours any veins of light that dare to reveal themselves.

I would follow it into the blackness if the thick, poisonous tendrils of gloom didn't bar my way. It seems that any heartfelt attempts at breaking down the blockage results in terrible growth of the tendrils, and so I'm emptily bound; my emotion has seeped into nonexistence.

Battered,
And broken,
Blood is my token.

Abused,
And scorned,
Words pricking like a thorn.

Bleeding,
And rocking,
The insane voices are talking.

Guzzling,
And yelling,
His soul she is felling.

Dying,
Being quiet,
A million voices riot:

"She was so kind,
The best of the best".
But I just weep,
For I finally have rest.

This sadness was our burden to carry,
Brother of mine,
Our burden to carry,
Throughout our lives.

Yet you have broken your shackles,
Brother of mine, have finally flown free,
And I am left questioning,
Hoping you will never forget me.

I cried back then, when turmoil unfolded,
And you comforted me with a soothing voice.
Now you have left this place,
And I don't blame you for that choice.

Please, all I am asking of you,
My dear brother,
Do not forget that little boy,
Who feared his mother.

I remain in the rubble of our past,
Please think of me even as you are free.
Back in those cloudy days,
You endeavored to help me see.

I am endlessly grateful.
Do not forget me, brother of mine,
For I might carry this burden,
For all of time.

How dare I meander through the woods,
And touch the trees with my fingers?
Nature wails loudly like a siren,
Yet here among the trees humankind lingers.

The grass crunches under my feet,
It might as well be the skulls of the innocent.
Nature exists as a cruel force but
Compared to people it is benevolent.

Smoke trails from chimneys to the sky,
Like black ink staining bright pages.
Mother Nature’s very tears consist of acid,
Which has accumulated throughout the ages.

Forests are ravaged so that we can have amenities,
Have the desired fabrics, papers, and things of the like.
Humans draw from nature as if it is expendable,
And the environment cannot retaliate nor strike.

When a child is beaten by his parents,
The world is aghast,
For how could one so young
Motivate hatred so vast?

Yet so few weep for nature,
Which in essence is that same crying child.
Unable to raise a hand in defense
Against destruction that is so wild.

Our fingers are stained with Mother Nature’s blood,
Yet we dare to bask in Her beauty.
We have failed to protect her
And we have abandoned our duty.

I might as well not speak,
For my words are heard by none.
Yet I will always listen,
For silence seems to stun.

You hold onto me, lest I slip away,
I can feel your fear vibrating against my body,
Your lips begging me to forever stay,
As if deeming me strong enough to remain.

But I am slipping.

Finger by finger,
I pull away,
And finger by finger,
I might not stay.

Time will tell this story,
Just wait and see it be created.
The ending of this story, good or bad
Has always been fated.

I am slipping.

Finger by finger,
I pull away,
And finger by finger,
I might not stay.

When others slam the door,
You close it with gentle hands.
When others scream at the air,
You focus on your plans.

Explosive anger consumes many,
They react in the most unenviable way,
It is disheartening that they can lose themselves so,
As they live immersed in their day-to-day.

Be higher, choose to concentrate,
Know that you are the key holder for your fate.

When others slam the door,
You close it with gentle hands.
When others scream at the air,
You focus on your plans.

You have existed seventeen years,
And blossomed into a man of integrity.
The seasons pass, but you remain grand.
Your kindness and warmth bless this land.

Seventeen years, a tiny fraction of time,
Yet your decency resonates like a chime.
Your arms have been my anchor these years,
Your mind open to me, you have listening ears.

I am stunned by your resilience.
For it speaks of your love for life.
You do not realize how much you love this place,
For it has caused those tears on your face.

Continue growing, my resilient flower,
My resilient man of power.
I will love you for all of infinity,
This connection the boldest of affinities.

Happy birthday, you have aged one more year,
And you grow wiser with each day.
I love you, my handsome prince,
You and I are here to stay.

Sometimes when I stare into mirrors,
I see an array of illusions.
I have a hard time knowing if they're truths,
Or if they are delusions.

For example, sometimes I look and see gross skin,
But then someone will tell me I'm glowing.
I'll look into the glass and see nothing worthwhile,
Because my fat neck is showing.

Other times I will feel attractive,
As I stare into my own brown eyes,
Which I convince myself smolder,
Mocha orbs that are wise.

But then someone will point out a pimple,
And tell me I don't look that great.
I am starting to think illusions
Are all that make up my face.

The fire of our hearts,
It burned us to ashes.
We sobbed into our hands,
Tears hanging from our lashes.

Your tears stirred sorrow in me,
To see you torn up tore me down.
It made a whole calamity of feelings
Spur up and become found.

Now, I don't know what we are,
Or even how to advance.
I'm sorry that I went along,
I'm sorry I danced that dance.

The damage you cause for me,
With that I can learn to live.
But don't you dare bestow that pain,
To outsiders who only give.

You weave a nasty web within this house,
Everyone follows your cruel law.
I won't let you give that pain
To an outsider whose emotions are raw.

I can tell when someone has endured enough,
When they have felt bad feelings,
And I won't let your destructive addiction,
Destroy this person's process of healing.

Mama bears don't turn their claws on their cubs,
So stop using that excuse to condone your actions.
Or believe me, you weak woman,
You will get an undesired reaction.

I love him. I love his heart. He, like so many people in this world, has been beaten down and forced to harden his shell. He strangles his emotions and locks them under key, and how am I, me, supposed to fix that? I'm the same way. I drift so emptily through my life because of uncontrollable strife and I... I just don't know how to regain a sense of purpose, feel some motivation, muster the ability to have some sort of elation. My pen used to bleed for me but now my skin is what's bleeding and I'm just so hurt and unhappy with the life that I'm hardly leading. I'm not a painter and I can't turn this ruby red blood into a painting, but I can write about it, record it, instead of under the pressure fainting. I'll do my best to stand strongly for him, for if we don't have each other, we have nothing. Maybe we can help each other blossom again, and be as healthy and pure and whole and perfect as we once were. I imagine it's possible, just difficult, to survive this; but a future with him is one I don't wish to miss.

A dream has enfolded me on this day.
It appeared like a hallucination,
Earlier when I heard her say,
"I'm going to stop drinking."

It enfolded and then I reminded myself
That hope need be maintained,
For she has in the past thought of herself.
I must prepare for her sinking.

I have the utmost hope,
Whether it be absurd or not,
That she will learn without it to cope.
But until it happens that is wishful thinking.

I will support my mother,
Believe in her always,
Though this waiting makes me smother.
Will she return to her drinking?

My mask of confidence will remain static,
Despite my soul's protesting of her claim.
My true thoughts slip when I'm in the attic,
Aloft and away from hearing ears.

I hope she will come through,
I hope that she is strong enough.
I hope she knows what to do,
Otherwise the night will be soaked in tears.

I held your hand through the chaos,
Of which you were the creator.
Fear ran rampant in my chest,
I often felt like a traitor.

Then I dropped your hand to retreat,
And I watched the world collapse to nothing.
You fell to your knees, you gave in again,
Submitted to grief that was crushing.

I could not help it; my arm grew tired.
I began to lose my grasp on sanity.
I walked around so empty inside,
Caught up in vanity.

Many regrets pool in my mind,
When I lie down at night to sleep.
Often your face dances in my memories,
And often it begins to weep.

I removed the chains of fear,
Only to replace them with ones of sorrow.
It never seems to come to an end,
It never seems to cease to borrow.

I have little left to give.
I go through the motions of living.
Stuck in my emotions,
Having many misgivings.

I am sorry I dropped your hand,
But I am also not in the least.
I am sorry that you hurt,
That I came off as such a beast.

I made the decision to help myself,
Something long overdue.
In a desperate attempt to heal,
To stop feeling blue.

I am losing years to complacency.
Adrift in a city I don't understand.
Without those I love,
With none holding my hand.

When I wake each day,
The sun is still bright.
When I lie down to bed,
I can still sleep at night.

I do not dream anymore.
Good nor bad.
I do not experience as strongly,
Feelings of happy or sad.

So though the sun rises,
And the night falls,
I am lost in my own chaos,
Trapped behind these walls.

Often do men conceal their true emotions,
Because flawed are all of the earth's people.
Movies make men believe risky notions,
Not to shed tears lest they forsake steeple.

This is not a poem, just letting you know.

Do I believe in a god?
The short answer: not really.

    Now, allow me to expand. I can't believe in a god anymore. Evolution is very understandable, if you really open your mind to it. The idea isn't that humans evolved directly from monkeys, but that monkeys and humans share a common ancestor. Other than that, according to the bible, Earth is a lot younger than is reasonable; scientists are able to test dirt, and rock, to date the age of our planet. Many Christians believe the earth to be only 6000 - 15000 years old. That is ridiculous. By testing ancient rock in Australia, scientists have determined that Earth is probably around 4.54 billion years old.

    Another scientific reason that I believe God, and religion, is probably malarkey, is that there isn't a single speck of proof. Supposed miracles aren't proof. Faith is not proof. There is NO proof. Also, the fact that scientists can strip down most anything and look at the chemicals and other substances that make it up seems to go against the idea that an all-powerful, perfect creator poofed everything into existence. Scientists are able to explain how everything happens - gravity, orbiting, radiation, etc.

    If it was all created by a magical being, I think it'd be impossible to analyze and pick apart the way we've managed to. We've managed to cure diseases, increase life spans, and do remarkable things with science, and yet it is all dismissed. There are more scientific reasons I don't believe, but let's move on.

    I also have ethical objections; I don't believe that an "all-loving" god would subject young children to cancer, ravage innocent people with natural disasters, or **** a bunch of Egyptian adults/children because the pharaoh refuses to listen to God. That's right, I'm citing Exodus 11:5, when God proclaims that all first-born sons will die if the pharaoh will not allow the Jewish people to leave.

    I don't understand how an all-loving god would allow ******, ****, and other atrocities. I don't understand why an all-loving god would create some of his children as homosexuals only to **** them for something that they cannot alter. I don't understand why an all-loving god would proclaim women as inferior, and say that slaves must be obedient to their masters. I believe that we are at a point, as the human species, that these things and whether they're ethical is being brought to the fore-front of discussion.

    Quite simply: I don't believe in God. I can't anymore, and I refuse to even entertain the idea. If there is a god, he is either cruel, or very detached and nonchalant. Others may believe as they want, but I believe that the wrong type of religious people are holding us back as a species; preaching hate, delivering scripture meant to inferiorate and belittle people with differences. If religion can alter itself, and become more facilitating, more loving, more encouraging, then perhaps it will no longer hold us back.

    But right now, it is. And that's MY belief.

Our faces are masks under our control,
That either share emotion or keep it from foe.

A smile does not always mean happiness,
Pursed lips are not always there for a kiss.

When we frown, we aren't always upset,
For confusion often is onset.

When tears tread down our human cheeks,
We can be quite happy, resulting in those leaks.

Hiding emotion is often vital,
Due to heartbreak that comes in tidals.

I once compared myself to a flower,
But flowers seem to wither apart.
They cannot withstand the cold,
Nor can they endure a dark heart.

Flowers exhibit fragility like nothing else,
And that is how I viewed myself.
Looking back on my life, now,
I see the sins I have kept on a shelf.

I see the things I have hidden from the world,
The traits that sleep deep inside of me.
Attributes of which I should be ashamed,
Truths I will never set free.

The monster which taunted me,
It has left a blatant mark.
Pulling me so close,
And placing its hand upon my heart.

I fear that is what I have become,
Not a flower, nor a part of nature at all.
The changes that I have made,
They have led me to my downfall.

The sun kissed your features,
As if its light knew no other home,
As if its illumination existed solely for you.
The sun bowed to you.

The wind rustled your hair,
Your jade eyes beamed with radiant youth.
Nothing chained us at that moment,
The world was the canvas for our brush.

Your long fingers intertwined with mine,
I turned your face to place a kiss there.
You had warmed my insides,
Taught me to command my own fate.

My tears have caught in my eye sockets,
Far back where they cannot pass.
I yearn for the temporary relief of their flowing,
But that relief would not last.

Once the tears dried up,
Resolve trickling back into my mind,
Self-hatred would be the only feeling,
The only thing I would find.

So, crying is not worth it,
Though I feel ready to explode.
I have run far from my past,
When the tears always flowed.

To return now, to break down my wall,
Of cold, placid emotion,
I think that would be a fall,
Some sort of pitiful demotion.

Our dreams haunted us like winter kisses skin,
The type of linger that often speaks of sin.

It is unforgettable, the atrocities committed that day,
Now Little Samuel has no daddy with whom he can play.

Had we regretted it, upon seeing color leave his face?
We were too preoccupied to think, as, back home we raced.

Now I wonder how long he laid there in the snow,
Due to disturbed children he didn't even know.

My words peep through
The veil of literature,
Like a cautious creature
With wary eyes.

My words, they swim,
Through these oceans of thought,
Darting swiftly with fear
That they might be preyed upon.

My words often fly through the sky,
Where creative feelings linger high,
But they hide among the clouds
So that they will not be grounded.

My words, I try to use them masterfully
So that I will not be quieted but rather heard.
Still, I must make sure I contribute my message,
No matter how I deliver it.