The non violent sadist, here i sit.
empty eyes and empty heart, here i sit.
broken dream and crumbling hope, here i sit.
bathed in the blood of a thousand stars, here i sit.

aggressively passive optimistic cynic, here i stand.
a smile in my pocket and a smirk at the ready, here i stand.
on the shattered remains of dreams achieved, here i stand.
arms open and songs being sung, here i stand.

I sleep during the day between the nights I feel alive.
The same mundanely chaotic dream...
We're holding hands and whispering sweet nothings.
fast forward, we're racing across old country roads.
You're inviting me to breakfast, and i am racing across the town.
Only to show up and make a complete *** out of myself.
My body becomes a healing flame, when we walk your hand in mine.
Of my life i can't say that I remember all that much.
But what i know is i wasn't truly alive till i knew "what is love"
When i made you smile, i felt the entire world fall away.
it was then, i was reborn with 5 whole new senses.
All the grays i stared at turned beautiful vibrant hues.
Your meals were a work of art, Fireworks exploding in my mouth.
You brushed my hand, and i felt poetry radiating through my flesh.
it wasn't till i looked into your opalescent eyes,
that was when i saw the world in all its unfathomable beauty.
I know i am nothing to you now, but if you see this i want you to know...

Thank you :)

I went for a run along the highway.
I came upon a snake at the mile 2.
It looked at me, and nodded its head.
It didn't hiss or strike, simply looked.
Acknowledging an old friend, two of a kind.
And we parted ways, satisfied.

I said "I love you" to her.
She said it back, time passed.
I forgot i dated her.
She gets engaged.
I remember crying for her, long ago.
I feel nothing, i feel i should.
I told her "I love you" I didn't lie.
She should be happy, i hope.

I write poetry because i am lazy.
Short stories are too long.
Screen Plays are too many people
Actually talking to people is too risky.
Journal-ing will get me no accolades.
Photography is just an app on a phone.
painting is an application on a canvas.
Acting would be fun without a stutter.
Songs are too loud, and singers are pretty.
Dancing would be nice if i had some rhythm.
I write poetry because it's fun and I like it...alot.

Saying words meaning nothing, transfixed with "I"
it's startes every sentence, and if i could i'd end with I.
Only opinion that matters is my own, mastery is a poem.
syncing lines with words and words weighing me down like stones.
Thoughts so sad they corrode my morals like acid.
sitting on my bed, it starts and i become homesick.
Pathetic as i once was and even more so, can you believe it?
still smiling and laughing at jokes never said, hoping to break even.
We're going out, it's all on me, except for the money and the driving.
your phone is probably blowing up from all the numbers you're dialing.
never not gonna do what we did last weekend, eh?
Slow jamming to oldies in a "Smoke that bud" kinda way.
Chain smoking for fun, and laugh at silent jokes.
planning our next unknown move, totally stoked.
A Queen is just a pawn with fancy moves, you say.
those weren't queens but it doesn't mean we're not kings, i say.
They were ordinary but we made them out to someone extra-ordinary.
Alright lets stop this nonsense, thinking about people who don't deserve it.
my emotions are swelling and empty, complicated i don't know how else to word it.