Put on suspenders and gave them a dance.
(When it comes to girls,
he hasn't a chance.)
I could care less about warnings and threats,
because for tonight
I know I'm the best dressed.

Went to a show and lost all control.
"I'm just here for the music.
I love it.
You know?"
Nine times out of ten,
they don't.

Went to a gym,
and never felt so depressed.
"I feel surrounded by lonely people desperate for ***."

This from a guy who proofreads his texts.
Spells out his laughs.
Drinks from the glass.

"What you need to do
is work on your shoulders, triceps, and chest."

Nah,
I'm good on that.
I'll just keep doing the things I like best.
"You'll never find a girl that way."
Ah,
give it a rest.

Do we all just come here to share our spirit of the stairs -
the things we wish we could have said
to the ones who don't care?
I wonder, what would they think if they read?
"Man,
what a freak -
so ****** in the head."

Do we choose to be poets,
or did it choose us?
If I told you writing is a roller coaster,
would you get a head rush?

Perhaps it's just that we care too much.
Painstakingly fretting over every word.
Is anyone even listening?
Tell me,
how much have you heard?

Burnt out psychenaut
trying his hand at making art.
Mosquito bitten,
from bed-ridden to facedown in the swamp.
Glorifying mind loss.
Tossed and turned in ocean waves.
Slamming into stop signs.
Disney's just a hindsight.
Theme parks just a crime spot.
Tourists just a foreground to hide what's in the backdrop.

Is pity passed down in the genes?
What about sympathy?
I fear I've inherited an overabundance of both.

It drains me to the point where I feel like a ghost.
Sometimes I wonder if I didn't die a long time ago.

Am I stuck in limbo,
just repeating the same old pattern?

I like it under this tree.
It makes me feel free,
I can say and think funny, silly, or sad depressing things.
I can just be me.

I want to sing,
I want to scream
at the top of my lungs.

I want to run full speed to the end of the sidewalk
and keep running after the concrete is gone.
I'll throw open my arms
to embrace whatever beauty I find waiting beyond.

Beware of anyone who claims to be in love with Ayn Rand.
Beware of anyone who fears what they don't understand.
Beware of overthinking,
and slipping into mental quicksand,
but if you do,
then don't be afraid of reaching out for a helping hand.

Hey you with your thinky pain,
your existential crises,
your broken bleeding heart beating in vain.
Hey you!
I say, hey!

Stop being a ****.

I got a little carried away
by the way you say my name.
A little caught up by your make-up.
Lost in your eyes -
it's hardly a surprise -
how easily I fall in love.

Oops.

I just made it real.
I've felt empty for so long,
and you made me feel.
(Oh, to feel!)
I didn't mean to project my feelings onto you,
but everyone seems so fake,
and you seem so real.

Oops.

I didn't mean to smile that time.
I've been trying to stay mad at you
for making me lose my mind.

Oops.

I've got to get away from you.
These feelings make me want to die.
I'm jealous of everyone you talk to.
Why can't you be mine?

Oops,
oh ****,
I really ****** up this time.
I can't see a thing,
your beauty's got me blind.
Abandon ship!
Get out fast!
I swore I'll never love again because it never lasts.

Oops.

I died.

I didn't mean to,
just like how I never meant to turn red
whenever I heard your voice.
It's just so full of life.
Could you please sing at my funeral now that I'm dead?
I bet that'll make 'em cry.

I know I left your place just minutes ago,
but it feels like it's been years.
I shouldn't drive while I'm seeing double,
it's a miracle that I can even steer.
I know a thousand people view me as a villain -
The root of all their drive-time fears,
but I've got my own troubles,
and there's no way I'm sleeping here.

Candid and branded,
he sold himself out.
Hardly can blame him for making a buck.
What's it to you how he made his debut?
I think you're just jealous-
he's done what you cannot do.
Call him unoriginal
(because you're so brand new)
The best come from old ideas reiterated for review.
Hate him if you like,
but I won't be sympathetic.
He was just more diligent where you were apathetic.

"I'm ugly."

"*******.
If you're ugly, then flowers are hideous,
and sunsets are a joke.
Butterflies nothing more than grotesque insects with over grown wings,
and the night sky is completely overrated.
If you're ugly, then a child's laughter is grating,
and music is just atrocious noise.
A smile's just a contortion of the face,
and poetry is just words.
If you're ugly, then a garden's just an arrangement of plants,
and dreams just nonsense played out in the brain.
Art would have no value,
and brilliant people would just be insane.

You are the farthest thing from ugly,
so don't say **** like that,
because if you aren't the most beautiful thing I've ever seen,
then beauty doesn't exist."

Wait, I swear I've felt this all before.
That thought followed by this scenery.
My idea of what she may have thought of me while I walked out the door.
This tree,
and how it depresses me.
I swear I've seen it all before.
Perhaps it was in a dream.
Maybe I'm living in a repeated pattern of the same old thing.
Just another thread woven inside of a tapestry.

There's too much gray for it to be appealing,
with the only color coming from the heart that I am stealing.
Just the beginning of a romance that I will never be forgiven.
These branches try to trap me with a guilt I'm not admitting.

Wait, I swear I've said there will be no more.
I've put it all behind me.
I'll find something else to live for.

Then suffocated by a rope made of that same old tapestry.
I swear I've strangled myself before.
Twitching on the carpet,
I've died a thousand times and more.

These trees offer to hang me
with gracious low-lying branches.
I deny them all again.
Not tonight,
but one day you'll get your chances.

Wait, why do I keep walking down the same old streets?
Is it some mad hope of running into the younger version of me?
Perhaps I already have in some half-remembered dream.
I'm haunted by these trees and plagued by memories.

I swear I've felt it all before.
Fumbling for my keys in order to get through the door.
Stumbling to my bed in a drunken stupor.
How the hell did I get here?
What am I living for?

I once knew a man
who said,
"Invest while you can."
I told him I didn't have any money.
"Well, I can't help you then."

I once met this kid
who told me his sins.
I couldn't say why,
I hardly knew him.
"You've a trustworthy face,
and you're leaving tomorrow."
But I never asked to be burdened by his sorrow.

I once loved a girl
who became my world.
I clung to her every single last word.
Then she was gone
to leave me in silence.
I replaced it with noises of hatred and violence.

I once had a choice
to make something new,
but I still hear her voice
telling me what to do.

I once spent a night
with a spirited punk.
Willful and passionate,
but down on his luck.
We painted the town red
and made Down the new Up.

I once read a book
that spelled out my life.
A real page turner,
though I know it's all lies.

Someone once told me
not to live in the past.
"Be here right now,
the future comes fast."
But I often look back
to cry or to laugh,
and on nights such as these
I'll write epitaphs.

Highly educated, low-life prince.
I heard he graduated but no one's seen him since.

I want to ***** out my insides so you can hear my swollen heart,
then stomp on it in front of you to make the beating stop.
You'll laugh, at worst. At best, you'll cry,
but you'll likely just feel pity.

"I ought to be more careful.
Sometimes I wish I wasn't so pretty!"

I wish I could burn your bridge without leaving myself stranded.
Trapped in the pasture with the rest of your sheep -
I've been sheared,
bitten,
and branded.

If I don't get out, I fear I'll suffer a brain aneurism.
How the **** did I get caught up in someone else's solipsism?

Next time you see me, I'll force myself into cardiac arrest.
To feel those lips against my own -
to taste your breath -
I swear,
I'd fake so many deaths.

If dying is the only way to kiss you,
then I'd rather be dead.
It'd be so much easier for me to never have to see you again.

No more singing,
and no more smiles.
No more haywired thoughts;
brain chemistry gone wild.
No more guilt,
and no more shame.
No more lost sleep.
No more mind games.

I'm in love with a lesbian;
I love when she laughs.
I'm in love with a straight man.
I'm in love with a ***.
I'm in love with a totally pretentious ***;
always self-flattering - I love how he brags.
I'm in love with a shy girl who hardly says a thing.
Quiet as a mouse,
but oh when she sings!
I'm in love with a dancer whose movements are poetry.
I'm in love with an artist who's modestly vain.
I am completely in love with a rationalist
if only because he's clearly insane.
I'm in love with a girl who's crazy about God.
I'm in love with another who spoils her dog.
I'm in love with the world when it's not bearing down on me.
Love as far as the eye can see.
I am in love with myself -
it feels good and true,
but more than anyone,
I'm in love with you!

Trees melted in the sun
and I realized that you are not the one to save me.
Nothing ever said or done will be enough to erase what I felt
while the earth surged up inside.
Thirty-six hours never felt so long.
I lived and died so many times.
I never knew I loved this song
until I heard you sing it.
A constant ring inside my head.
My crime now is to bring it back.
Cut off but don't leave any slack.
I swear my middle self was dead.
Your outer brought me back to life.
I hadn't felt it in so long.
I didn't think I'd ever hear it again.

I fell asleep in the branches of a cypress tree,
while I heard the barks of the hounds that are after me.
In my dreams I flew away on golden wings,
but a bullhorn brought me back to reality.

"We know that you're up there.
We know that you're hurt.
Why don't you climb down and let us treat your wounds."

"I'm comfortable here,
and halfway to the moon.
Why don't you *******?
I won't be down anytime soon."

"We're here because your family is worried about you.
They don't know where you are.
We're here to help you!"

"Nothing you say can help me now!
I'm here to stay; I'm not coming down!"

I hope skunk ape comes to tear you apart.
Serves you right for trespassing in his swamp.
Leave me alone,
my problems are my own.
I hope the ghost of Osceola comes to haunt your home.

"We're not going to leave.
Climb down while you can.
Don't make us come up there.
We can force this to end."

He climbed down all ****** with holes in his pants.
They arrested him on charges of public disturbance.

He just broke the record!
History is smashed.
Progress is proven through his action.
The old conquerer is past.
Let's celebrate this brand new glory,
and love it while it lasts.
Add a new page to this story.
This one now is best.
We will anxiously await
for the next one to surpass him.
Every victory is great,
but no win is everlasting.

I wish I had a time machine to go back and kick my own ***.
Or at least try to talk some sense into myself.
"Listen kid, this **** doesn't bode well. You're burning alive and headed for hell."
Maybe writing is its own kind of time travel.
Billy Pilgrim knows what I'm talking about.
"Chin up child. Stop playing wild. I know you're trying to make your own style,
but you'll lose more than you'll gain."
But before I step in and turn the dial, my future self comes back to slap my hand.
"Let it be," I'll say to me.
One day you'll understand.

I hate.
I hate, and hate, and hate.
I take a break
to read a book no one appreciates,
then clock back in
just to hate again,
and hate, and hate, and hate.
The things you love.
What you think is great.
Those are all of the things I hate.
I hate, and hate, and hate.
I hate myself for hating it.
I hate the way it makes me feel.
Like everything is meaningless.
Like nothing is even real.
I hate you so much for making me hate the way that I am.
I hate every situation that I find myself in.
I hate that I love you in spite of it.
I hate.
I hate.
I hate you for it.

I have trouble with existing,
as if I lack some proper requisite for insisting to persist.
I feel like just a composite of so many billion molecules.

I have a hard time defining truth.
So many contradictory influences tell me what to do.
I feel I'm better off sleeping straight through every single birthday.

I have never felt just simply okay.
Doubt hits me like a tidal wave.
It takes me away to far-off places,
and I can't say I mind it.

When you're twenty-five,
and find yourself watching Pinocchio -
completely horrified,
then it might be time to reevaluate your life.

(When you're lying in a field next to a bar,
singing a song while out of your head,
and your friends call your name because they don't know where you are,
so you stop singing because you'd rather be left for dead,
and later you're crying in your best friend's car
while thinking of all of the terrible things that you've said)

When you can't handle people being nice to you
because you think you don't deserve it -
when you can justify substance abuse
because you feel that you have earned it,
then it's about time that you grabbed the wheel
and turn it.

I'll swim after writing half an essay about my favorite philosopher.
I'll swim again and think of her.

I'll drown after agreeing to go out tomorrow night.
I'm not looking forward to being brought back to life.
I'll drown again and think of her.

I'll burn after I turn out the lights.
I can't sleep when my head isn't right.
I toss and turn and again, I burn.
All the while I think of her.

I'll melt as the dreams come on too fast
with desires of the one I cannot have.
Into a boiling ***,
I am thrown and stirred.
I'll melt again while I dream of her.

Is like a carousel,
and there's a pleasant sensation,
and it makes your head spin.
So many gaudy animals to choose from.
You get used to the dizziness.

The music is loud,
and there's an onlooking crowd.
It's so much fun
to go round and round.

Stay on too long and you forget how it feels
to be on stable ground.

These zebras and giraffes.
These benches and poles.
They do nothing for me anymore.
They've turned into hurdles.

You can't get anywhere
when you're just going in circles.

I keep having wacky dreams
followed by false awakenings in which
I'm telling the people who were featured in them about
the things that I've been dreaming
and then I wake up for real and realize
that no one's even listening.

Everything I've ever told you about me has been a warning.
I tried to cool down your warmth.
Please don't smile at me again.
I can't make you understand how much it's worth.

Everything I feel about you is way too intense.
I want to explain it,
but it doesn't make any sense.

Anything you say gets repeated infinitely
to leave me swimming in a pool of memories,
but my arms are tired and now I'm drowning.
The thought of you takes the breath out of me.

I'm caving in underneath the weight of what it means.
These are the kinds of things I've tried to stop myself from feeling.

Everything I've ever said to you has been a warning.
Every single one of them has gone ignored.
Please don't smile at me again.
I can't handle loving you any more.

Because when I think about you, it hurts,
yet I can't seem to stop.
I think about you all of the time.

Do you know what I'd like?
For my mind not to go haywire whenever you're around.
For my blood not to boil at the sound of your voice.
I wish I didn't want to die when I hold your stare.
I wish I could go back in time to before I even cared.
I hope one day you have children
even though you can't give birth,
and I hope one day I can think about you without it having to hurt.

I once read about a word that is defined as the pain that an idealist feels when reality inevitably falls short of his or her own grand ideas of how things could be.

I got filled up with something thrilling and I've been
spilling it out of me ever since.
Inspiration is the basis of how to make a difference.
Swelled up from songs and quotes
now spread them out into the world.

Pay it forward, play it back;
put that ride in gear
get it back on track.

There's a whole world of people down in the dumps.
If you've got passion and if you can feel love,
then extend your hand to pull the others up.

I am not above you.
You are a reflection of how I was before.
I'm no longer afraid to love you.
Let's both feel better and never let that misery touch us anymore.

This one's called "Running Under Streetlights on a Treadmill Made of Gravel"
Don't you ever wonder where you'd be without love?
There is no distance I wouldn't travel
to be under the arms of this oak.

This one is called "I Ain't Got All Night to Plot with the Moon,"
and this one's called "I'm Losing my Mind in the Middle of June,"
so give me a light, because this dark's ending soon.

I am a scarecrow lost in a tornado
(this one is called "You Can't Keep All of Your Straw.")
I am a glass figure in the midst of a hail storm.
This one is called "Where's my Umbrella?"

And I've found an answer,
so ask me the question.
This one is called "The Supreme and Holy Power of Suggestion"

Some nights are never ending.
This one's called "That Fruit Ain't Worth Eating if the Garden's Not Worth Tending"

So don't you judge me.
My antennae may be broken,
but my signal still sends,
and my mind is wide open.

How much of my history can you read from my mouth?
Can you make some sort of sense of what my life is about?
"You ought to quit smoking.
It's bad for your gums."
It seems my teeth are paying the price for how I like to have fun.
I dread the sound of that drill,
but I'm here of my own free will.
Please don't tell me that I have a cavity.
Ask me about my flossing habits,
and if I've been experiencing sensitivity.
I have.
You see, I've been having these dreams in which I'm spitting out all of my teeth.
I looked it up in Zolar's encyclopedia.
It reads:
Teeth falling out = death.
It's been ******* with me.
I found some other sources which state
that losing your teeth in dreams is a subconscious way of expressing anxiety.
Sounds about right.
I've been waking up in hot sweats every single night.
With a weight on my chest that feels like the precursor to death.
I've told my favorite non-friend about how lately I've been feeling a sense of impending doom.
Like I'm headed towards disaster.
She didn't have anything to say about it.
I guess I've always had a flair for the melodramatic.

My dad talks in his sleep.
He says the wackiest things.
My mom and my brother's fiancé  are on the back porch drinking.
He's asleep.
So is my niece.
She's on the couch next to me while I'm watching Louie.
This all after coming home from a party where the singer of my band tried to ****** me.
Before I drove home I did some drunken text messaging.
Sometimes, I swear,
I don't know what to think.
It's all so absurd,
yet charming in a way.
I fear I'm bound to go crazy.
I've got to get away.

I look onto the world,
and all that I can see
are tales of woe, success, heroes,
love, loss, pain, and tragedy.

I look back on my life
and see it just the same.
All of it so beautiful,
yet commonplace and plain.

I look onto the world,
and it looks back on me.
All that I can see,
all of it and everything;
nothing more than poetry.

It may sound strange to you,
but this is what we do.
After dealing with ******* all day long
we come here to tell the truth.

You may not understand why,
but this is how we get by,
and it may not make much sense,
but it makes us feel alive.

You may think it's all we know,
but this is how we grow.
Go and shove your "normal"
To us, you're the ******.

There are so many things that I want to say to you that I shouldn't.
There are even more things that I should say to you that I wouldn't.
You remind me of somebody that I used to know.
One who let me break their heart then broke mine in revenge.
I'm scared that I might do it again if you ever give me the chance.
It's why I keep my distance.
It's why I hold my silence.
I've always had trouble with letting things go.
It just means so much to me -
every word you say.
I've always been afraid of letting people in.
I'll exhaust every effort in pushing you away.

Fields of bridges burn while I'm
waiting for my turn,
and she looks into my eyes while I
hear my feelings die.
Screaming loud and wild.
I pull them down beneath the surface
to drown under my silence.
My heart is blackened tar.
My mind's a searing furnace.
Your eyes are just a canvas for my mental plants to flourish.

My mind has been cleaved open.
I'm feeling expansive.
Take me out tonight;
I feel like dancing.

Buy me a drink or two.
By the end we'll be in flight.
"I swear I'll make it up to you."
Let's feel alive tonight.

Bump and grind and jump and jive
to get lost in the moment.
The meaning of life can sit behind while instincts take up the forefront.

I do love this song so much,
and this is what I live for.
Philosophy is out to lunch when I'm out on the dance floor.

(This is the part where your theme song surges up inside your head,
and when you feel the energy hold out til you see red.
Release it all in one hot go out into that hail storm
with the passion that you've carried with you from the day that you were born.)

This poem should not be written.
These thoughts should not be thunk,
because I'm a little lost right now.
I think I might be drunk.

You're the one who hides beneath every thought that I do think.
The cause behind my highs and lows -
you're the reason why I drink.

Please leave me alone.
You haunt all of my dreams,
and turn me out until I'm coarse -
I'm splitting at the seams.

I didn't want to love you.
It was just a game.
Elaborate revenge for calling me "cute."
I underestimated the heat of your flame.

Big mistake.

Now I'm burning for you.
In the smoke, I see your name.
It repeats through my head as I writhe in bed
again, again, and again.

I used to climb onto the roof just to feel closer to the stars,
and tonight I climbed a ladder then wondered where you are.
Sleeping safe and sound in the warmth of your bed?
I wish I were your pillow,
to know the thoughts in your head.

Do you ever dream of me?
To know would be too much.
Instead, I'll climb to greater heights
and wish on stars for luck.

Is it sad that I think you may be all I've ever had?
Does it make you mad when I feel like I couldn't give two *****?
I've only ever just been living my life.
Sometimes I have a hard time of it.

Is it tragic that I know we won't make it together?
Is it sociopathic of me to mention it?
I want everything or nothing from you.
You make me feel conflicted.

In the resulting twisting mental state, I find something compelling.
I like how you press me for the answers,
though I'm not one for telling.

If you only knew the impact that you have on all my dreams.
It's the discrepancies of our feelings that makes me hold it back.
If you ever make the mistake of giving me a chance,
I swear,
I'd give you a heart attack.

Doomed to forever be concerned with the things that most won't notice - let alone take an interest in.
Fated to state the rules of a game of which most don't know they're playing - whether or not they may be winning.
Always curious.
Ever grasping.
Despairing when they realize that the quest is everlasting.
What is it that makes it thus?
Myself,
the world,
random floating motes of dust.
I'll assign them meaning just to see it fall apart
in the face of a smile.
In the face of indifference.
Caught up in a desperate attempt to recapture one's lost innocence.
A few misplaced words can turn you into just another madman scribbling on the walls.
What keeps it going?
It's the hope that someone,
somewhere,
will understand it all.

It may come to you as a shock,
but I've never held back.
Even when you were stuck on this.
Especially when you were stuck on that.

I'm not here to announce the fact
that there was something going back and forth.

I held your words in the palm of my hand;
blew on them for luck,
then spread my fingers and took a chance.

It may come to you as a surprise,
but I've never been afraid to roll the dice.
With you I always felt lucky.
I never expected to roll snake eyes.

I am no stranger to darkened rooms.
The sun may be shining
but I'm in love with the moon.
She's full of sympathy for my lonely plight.
I am no stranger to the night.

She hides behind clouds, but I'll see it through.
I wax and wane with her many moods,
and when she's full, I'm filled with hope.
She shines on me so that I don't feel so alone.

A pale shadow glows with a light from my mind.
I've seen it every morning since the day I lost mine.
It begs me to stay in this twisted Limbo.
I squirm and shake and fall out of bed.

Plagued by manifestations of the once unknown.
I've bruises on my head.
I wish they would leave me alone.

A spiraling spider descends from the ceiling.
The popcorn texture alludes to my state.
I squirm and shake and fall out of bed.
How many times have I told you to go away?

My skin crawls with phantasms of skittering speed.
I am but a tube sock of molding jelly.
I squirm and shake and fall out of bed.
I try to convince them that I'm still alive.

Smash the graphite with a head of stone.
I crashed my car into an old oak tree.
I saw a boy fly tonight.
His arms spread wide as he sailed over my hood.
I think I knew him once.

Killed the cat and ate the bird.
That egg headed demon possessed me with his words.

Break the glass with a fistful of sand.
A crumpled torn up manuscript.
Forced the square into the circle.
Cascading shards of what was once a windshield.

Squashed the brains against the base.
Chunks of bone like splintered wood.
Entered while I exit.
My body is soft served ice cream.
The flavor of Hate.

Ground up meat in a plastic bag.
My guts are a ****** firework.
Tornado of manufactured metal.

I made my escape.

Life is a joke and death is the punchline.
Don't forget to laugh.
I guess I'll remember to next time.
This one's all ******.

Life's a ***** and then you die.
If you're lucky,
there may be some people who cared about you enough to cry.
Though it won't mean much when you're no longer alive.

Life is a riddle and death is the answer.
Who asked the question?
Who gives a ****?
The universe, god, and the laws of energy can all **** a ****.

**** being alive.
No, seriously,
**** It.
I'm sick of living.
I'm so done with it.

You were so solid.
A statue in the face of a coming storm.
You saw it,
but you're not one to flinch.

You ate it whole.
A whirlwind dive down a steady eye.
Now we're lost in
the place that you call home.

Won't you spit us out?
We fell through the cracks of our many flaws.
You never doubted
what it was all about.

I'm sick of over indulgence.
I'm tired of disgrace.
Won't you give us all some leeway,
so that we may save some face.

I
Fell
For You
In Too Many Ways

I spent my days crying
while longing for escape.
You always knew the simple path was long since overgrown.
I guess I have myself to blame
for the price of being another chip on your shoulder.

I speak in metaphors,
but I feel like I've met you before.
You were what was hiding on the otherside of my door.
You were the canopy at the top of the trees;
Basking in the moonlight.
I tried to climb but I fell on the way up.
You were the branches that broke my fall.
You were the leaves in autumn;
How I tried to catch them all.
You were the one that held me tight.
You were the clouds that cloaked the moon in the middle of the night.
You were all the things that I struggled to see.
You are everything that I want to be.

I heard her laughter through a wall made up of space and time.
I swear there's something in her voice that reminds me so much of mine.
If I tell you a joke will you do me the service of granting me a smile?
It's nice to be reminded of my lost innocence once in awhile.
I'll force rhymes and recycle lines just to get a rise.
I'll speak absurd profundities to spark a twinkle in those eyes.
Her glad and simple laughter makes me want to cry.
When I'm in her presence, I feel like I could die.
You simple, silly girl.
You clever, brilliant thing.
You make me feel alive again.
You make me want to sing.