the funny thing about futures
is that theyre hazy with trials
but at the same time so clear, you can see it for miles
can riddle you with excitement, all the way down to your core
and render you helpless in a panic attack on the floor
brighten your day
send tears down your face
wrap you in assurance and plans
look big and scary and tell you "you cant"
be the sense behind your choices
be the source of all the inside voices
be the reason you blossom into a beautiful self
or your legacy will be another unread book on the shelf

Six letters spell out my secret self:
T-he
O-ther
B-eing
I-
A-m
S-ometimes  - TOBIAS

I am the baby caressed
at my mother’s breast.

A child learning sums,
playing with my chums
at football scoring
goals and soaring
to the heights of fame.

At times, a growing boy
entranced in nature’s joy.

Now and then I paint
for the family Medici
or become a Saint
like Francis of Assisi
chatting with the birds.

Some days I walk
in groves with Plato
and learn to talk
the simplicities of Cato
and for a while am wise.

Most days though
I hardly show
his side. So few can know
The Other Being I Am Sometimes.

TOBIAS

I walk this world alone
Burning bridges everywhere I turn
I don't know a life
Without destruction
I'm so toxic
It makes me sick
Still nobody knows

Nobody knows
The life I lead
They never know
Each time I bleed
Or when I want to give up everything
It's nauseating
It's never ending
I want to be open
But I'm afraid to let them in
Because I know they'll just walk away
They'll never treat me the same
It's a constant flow

Still, my heart, it beats for you
My very life, you can have it too
What reason do I have, but the reasons you give
When I think I've had enough
And it all is just too much
I think that today is the day that I'll give it all up
Because my life is meaningless in the absence of happiness
And words are cheap, and better left unspoken
Every life was meant to fade
And every heart was made to be broken
So what's it matter if I die?
If they learn my secrets, I'll be ostracized by the ones I love the most
To them, I'll be a ghost
So let these chains set me free
Let me be who I am meant to be
A free spirit with no care
A lovely person with no burdens left to bare

the most frustrating thing
when it comes to a writer
is when everything
every word, every letter,
isn't enough to give justice to
the captivating picture of you
in the afternoon:

soaked in sweat,
grinning foolishly,
striking up a conversation
about coffee,
and how unhealthy it is
for me to drink
three cups straight,
to stay awake,

yet the bittersweet taste
stains my lips.

it spills down my throat,
covers my lungs,
and drowns them
with the addicting aroma
of coffee beans
and lazy dreams,
until i cannot seem
to breathe,

and the only thing
i can ever do
is to spill ink
for you.

Poverty levels are miles above me.
Haven't eaten for days,
but the child's tummy is happy.
That's all that really matters, right?

Stolen vehicles and slinging to get by,
selling myself and losing my mind
an inch at a time.
But, I'm clean in too many ways.

Greed and snapping jaws trained at me.
Every angle of escape blocked,
this is my Destiny.
I chose the wrong hearts to trust.

I gave a mile.
I lost it all.
Though I want to give up,
I just can't afford to blow.

I'll feign strength and plastered
     happiness.
Block it all like I've done in the past.
One day I'll be blessed with death,
and I'll rejoice in the simple
     emptiness.