It's honestly not that I'm unhappy

It's honestly not that you're not enough

It's honestly not that I don't have fun

However,

However,

However,

The chemicals inside my head

Well,

They long for the darkness of a casket.

So

as I battle my head

As I battle my impulses

The down time I get,

The breaks in the mental war,

Please know,

I'm tired,

So

Very

Tired,

But

never

of

*you

Sometimes,
I get tripped up
when I think of going back
to
who I once was;
a poet,
a man with his head held high
and
chest pushed out
like some sort of
sixties super hero.
Can I really replicate that?
Can I write poems as I once did?
I find that in these times
words
fall
like
a
waterfall
from my head,
through my nervous system,
into my chest
where a gust of wind
is pulled between my lips,
down my throat,
into my lungs
where it becomes vibrations
climbing out of me
like the victim of a car crash.  
then comes my teeth,
The porcelain wall.
my mouth,
the black hole.
Nothing seems to escape me anymore. I find that
in times of utter contentedness,
I can not speak. "
It's hard to write content." Unbelievably difficult,
unbearably so.
Yet, here I sit,
tapping away at my phone screen, dividing myself from my surroundings by vibrations of sound.
Yet, here I sit.
Trying to pull the lid off
of
this porcelain vase.
Yet here I sit
begging my body to let go,
some of these words
are to heavy to hold.
And  
some
to light to be held back.

Somewhere further upstream
There's a boy much like me,
Maybe younger.
As I sit
I watch as the water dances under me,
I think of who he may be.
Maybe he's crying.
I think I want to,
I'm not really sure anymore.
I'm tired
Of being an emotional cannon
With one flake,
too many of gunpowder
And a wick a smidgen, too, short.
I think entirely, too, much.
I ask, too, many questions
I answer, too, few.
I'm lost in my head.
I think it's good for me.
I spent a weekend, too, drunk
and, too, high to remember it clearly.
But it was fun.
I wish fun did pay bills.
No one would be so miserable.
I wouldn't be sitting here thinking about them.
I'm, incredibly, selfish.
I only really want for myself.
At the same time,
Maybe ever so slightly after,
I want for others but only after myself.
That applies to a lot of things.
I'm, too, **** young
To be thinking about dying alone.
I'm, too, young
To be feeling this empty.
I feel things in waves,
Not the waves that children play in,
Not even the waves white water adrenaline junkies chase
Waves like the tsunamis
The ones that swallow cities.
Waves that strip the shore for miles
Waves that flood the area with a forty inches of water.
When I'm empty,
*******
I'm empty.
If I removed everything in space
down to the atoms
That would be a pretty good metaphor,
I think.
I dream of having nightmares
My nightmares are of having dreams.
I'm lost.
I'm at a loss.
I have lost.
I know my self-esteem is ****.
I don't need to be reminded.
I try so hard to be someone
That I would notice.
Someone I could fall in love with.
Someone like you.
I know it's a lot of pressure.
I know you're avoiding that.
I know you want to be alone.
I know that we need space.
I wonder if the boy is still there,
the sun is setting
It's getting cold.

It's been a very long time
since I was typing at a computer thinking and even longer since I last heard this song.

I find myself thinking,
Overly about my future,
About our future
A future that may not exist.
I love you.
I love you
Repetition never really seemed important.
Repetition always seemed so powerful.

If I sing you songs of what is
will you remember what was?

I'm wounded
I'm wounded
By you
I'm hurt
by what you could never see
because for you
Self reflection is a step, too, far.
For now at least.
There will come a day
I think when you will look back
Maybe
A day that I'm no longer here.
Not dead.
Just not with you.
I can't spend my whole life waiting for you.
I won't,
So
I love you.
I love you.
I love you.

With repetition
Comes the loss of meaning

You move me like a landslide,
You move me like the winds fingers through the trees you adore.
You move me like the rush of cold water when you jump into the pool
You move me like my childhood revisited,
You move me like a small animal in a California forest fire.
You move me like the rush of singing
You move me like my left leg when I skate.
You move me like a surprise spray of water from a hose.
You move me like my father
You move me like the sea breeze
You move me like the smile of unfamiliar children's smiles.
You move me like the smell of cookies in the oven.
You move me like a funeral service
You move me like the loss of a great man, woman, child, leader, pet.
You move me like a hug from you when I'm down
You move me like a body falling from a plane with no parachute
You move me.
It's you that keeps these feet moving
You move me
You move me
You.

I see the ache in your eyes
I see, saw and will see it
As long as I'm by your side.
I will never know what happened behind the doors
I'm not sure if I want to.
To leave you that sense of privacy
Or
Maybe it's because me not knowing
Is the only thing keeping him alive;
Nevertheless, I have a few things to give you.
Not words of advice.
Not words to tell you in which way you should live.
Words of who you truly are.
You are as beautiful as my hair is unruly.
You are as gentle as the moons light.
You are as kind as a lioness
You hold the power of the same lioness
You love deeply
You are so important.
Not only to me.
To your mother
To your sisters
To the brothers you find in my family.
To the sisters you find in my family
To the father you find in my family
Scratch that "my"
And replace it with "our"
I love you.
I love the person you are
Faults
And
All.
You don't have to carry the weight alone.
I'll carry half.
And when you're too tired to continue
I'll carry your half and you.
I love you.
You are more valuable than any gem
You are more valuable than any stone
You are valuable.
Never forget
You are loved.
On your darkest days
On your brightest nights
Drunk
High
Somewhere inbetween.
You are loved.

When a poet loves an artist
something
Oh, something
Clicks
In a way where
her art
becomes
his word.
his words spent
trying
Oh, trying
To capture the beauty that is her work
Like the tide to the shore
He'll throw himself into attempts
Only to find
he can only bring with him
The surface.

sunlight streams effortlessly through my window,
the dust and dead skin
floats through the air
creating that ray of light
that we all found to be beautiful,
as kids.
I sit staring,
contemplating
what I can say to take it back
a small part of me hopes you never read this
simply because I want to stay true to my word,
however, a larger
more powerful part of me
is ripping through my head and body, like stars that's got too close to each other
their gravitates and planets collide making a mess of galactic size.
I've eaten once
since I stepped away to try,
To try make my feelings die.
Not by choice
anytime I try and eat I throw up,
then cry
then throw up.
Only once could I keep it down.
I know how I used to be.
I used to hate the thought of being lonely,
now I know,
I know that I have changed
that I'm in love with you.
I don't just miss holding someone,
I miss holding you.
I miss the way your hair smelled
like waffle cones, ice cream and sweat
on the days you worked.
I also miss the days
when I would silently
try and guess what shampoo you used.
I miss how when we cuddled
I didn't have to wear socks
because your feet don't gross me out.
I miss slipping your little fingers in between my slightly bigger ones.
I miss your little frame.
I don't just miss being in the presence of somebody,
I miss the way you made a whole room
feel like that was the only room that mattered,
how any room became increadibly important
when your attention shifted there.
I have never even thought
someone peeing with the door open
While talking to me would be important
To be honest, I still don't.
I want you to *** with the door open and talk to me,
I miss the way it takes you thirty minutes to ***
and five to **** .
I miss the way
you spent twenty minutes after either
playing on your tablet.
I don't want to walk anywhere with anyone at two a.m.
But I'd walk to Chicago and back
if you said you were gonna do it.
I miss walking ever so slightly behind you
I could see the power behind your walk,
the confidence,
I envied and admired it.
And yes occasionally I would look at your ****.
I also love the way you like to be in front
because you have an ever present desire to be in power,
to feel in charge.
I don't care to compliment people
unless I have a motive.
Like I want positive comments at work
so I can get moved to serve
or I want something.
But with you, with you
my compliments were genuine,
innocent even.
I don't want to **** what I feel for you.
Because my love for you,
it's the only beautiful thing I've got.
I really wished I would've ****** it up
accepted that they were more fun than me.
I wish I hadn't let getting bailed on
by the only person I ever truly want to see
hurt so much.
I've told you time and time again,
"I'm not strong".
I know this probably seems less like a poem
and more like
a sad narrative of an impulsive child.
Maybe I'll make that the title.
But I'm in love with you.
I haven't felt this much sorrow before.
I've never been one to erupt into tears,
but I am.
A lot.
Right now
I have a little bit of your perfume
on my turtle necklace
when I habitually put it in my mouth
I have to choke back my tears.
I hope you read this.
I hope you don't.
I wish I could take you out on Saturday.
I wish i wasn't rambling.
I should probably sleep but
when I try and sleep sober
I have nightmares.
I'm looking for reasons to see you again.

Its been
A while

Time has passed
and
I have grown.

A man,
Not so.

I have
learned
Lost
Loved
And
Earned

I've battled my sins
I've dwelled, too, long.

Yet,
I haven't spoken
So, here I am to say,
Life you may swing like a mad man
But
I've built muscle from the weight.

I've learned how strong my legs are
For I carry my burdens.

I've learned how strong my arms are
From opening doors sealed by the past

Ive learned how stubborn my heart is
For beating
even when
I begged it to stop

I am here
I am here

Not yet a man
No longer a boy

I am here
And here
I'll stay.

Rachel,
I won't tell you things will be okay.
I don't know if they will.
I don't know when you'll be able to smile your hardest,
Laugh until you ****,
Or
When you'll be able to appreciate nature how you once did.


I can
(and will to the whole-hearted and best of my ability)
however,
tell you that
You will do the things you once did.
You will.
For
when I watch you
lock yourself In the attic of your body
When I watch you
picking up the photo album
of whom you,
once again,
Would like to be.
When I watch you collapse
When I watch the subtleties
The little changes
on what would be a face of stone.
When I see them
I can tell that
the floor in that old room gave way
I know.
I know.
I know that I can't stop your decent.
I don't think
you'll be where
you
would like to be
For a while.
That's okay.
I'll hold your hand
I'll love you anyway.
Because when I look at you.
When I let my gaze drop
From my eye level
To yours.
Beyond those tired eyes.
Beyond your stressed posture.
Beyond your heart-breakingly weak smiles.
Beyond your stress.
Beyond your sorrow.
Beyond your fears.
I see you.
You.
Only you.
I see the love of my life.
I see your beauty.
I see your potential.
I see a river pebble.
I see a fierce bear
I see love
I see a fire,
though small,
burning furiously.
And just behind that fire.
I see you picking up your pain
And I see you setting it ablaze.
So yes,
Dare to disturb the universe.
So yes,
Look death in the eyes.
Befriend it.
Respect it.
And refuse it's advances.
(You don't like pushy flirts anyway)
You're strong, Rachel.
You're not trapped by some one who wants you locked away anymore.
So don't trap yourself.
It's okay to relax
It's okay to relax.
It's okay to relax.
It is okay
Relax.
You're not alone in this.
I'm here.
Watching you fight.
Waiting for you to tag me in.
I'll bruise my knuckles
I'll ****** the floor.
If it means,
That you
That you
That you
Will suffer no more.

You feel like you're ripping at the seams.
You feel like all the scary stuff
That you hid
behind those shattered glass eyes
will spill endlessly onto the floor,
make you a laughing stock,
And
Be the reason you must become a recluse.
This my dear,
Is in fact,
Untrue.
Behind the seams
You are no monster to be cast,
in a closet,
Under the bed,
Under the stairs,
In the attic
Or
In some makeshift storage space.
No
No
Behind those seams
Is a beautiful mosaic
Of the beer bottles you've shattered
Of the mirrors you've cursed to shards
Of the glasses you've cast to the floor
Behind the seams is nothing to be hidden away.
You are art.
You are;
the most beautiful,
The most intricate
The most complex
The most awe inspiring
Piece ever put together.
Yes,
Blood was shed to get you here.
Sure,
Sometimes when I try and help
To place your glass
I get cut on your sharp edges.
I do not regret taking my blood
Mixing it with your love
And
Guiding you to decide
To decide to pull the fabric,
hiding your beauty,
away
I'll be here holding seam cutters
to hand you.
I'll save a spot
Atop the mountains
In every studio
On every city street
In every single home
To display your heart.
You may feel broken
You may feel shattered
You may feel that you're worthless
But in every piece of you
that you think is meaningless
I will show you
You don't need to be who you were
To be something beautiful.