No one is alive.

And when you wake up to a scream,
Forget it.
It's me, making you, after making me.

Choke on blood.

My opinion is invalid,
Declined like your debit card.

Your opinion is biased by
Having never been loved
Or listened to in youth.

You're not my problem,
Do not think I won't stab you
In the front too.

Took the road to El Dorado
From Okeechobee to Colorado

Took the road away from riches at home
Children you have to help grow

Took the road to El Dorado
From Okeechobee to Colorado
Left your children at home
And they've grown without you

My Grandma told me,
About a poem she wrote
About a sunset on the
Key West shore
Painting poems to be
Ethereal and bright,
Full of beauty and
Delight.
Which they are,
But

Here I sit,
Writing poems
About how much I'd love
To die.
Or writing poems
About what's inside my mind
Which seems to be
Terrible,
Dark and
Telling me to be
At the end of bights.
Lonely nights I've spent
Spend days travelling down
My brain to my pencil,
Tracing backwards
Symbols to conform to.
Writing these words
Like child's play to
Nightmares.

So tell me,
What's the real meaning of poet?
Sunsets or an experience
Making poetry
Or poesy your only catharsis?
I think or hope it's both
But either way
Like most folks,
I still don't know what the hell
I'm talking about.

I wanted to watch you die
What a sweet child
Corrupted by
Lack of love
Lack of light

Familiar sights,
I'm covered in bites
and the ants crawl
and the night falls.
Spring comes,
lights aspire
King's set fire
October, the time of falling
Time has no meaning, it is tainted
and our lives are painted.

One year ago exactly,
In the moment I relapsed faster
Than how fast I was running from myself.

It had been about a year too
Before I closed the door on
Hoping to have grown.

I was sent away
And blamed for that.
They said "You said the right things
And did this on purpose"
Well I can't say I did that,
But I can say I finally opened up
And asked for help
And this is what I got for that.

Now everytime I smell
The smell of tide detergent
And see that color green
On the meridian scrubs
I flinch and stop breathing.

I wish I never opened up,
I wish I never asked for help
Cause now the shackles on my brain are getting heavier in that section.

But it showed me a new perspective,
Didn't get the help I was wishing for
But I grew older, wiser, and nicer.
Now I'm a fighter for the kids like me
So I guess I have grown a little.

There's a jury in my head
They fight when I'm in bed
They split and throw gavel
Travel from cerebral to people
And back again
My case has not been decided
Though they continue
And I won't sleep until they've left

"I'm thirsty anyway,
So bring on the rain."

I woke up with a craving, but staying inside
Will save me from the world.
My tired eyes itch like a sweater,
I give up in a curl, and enjoy the colder weather.
Work the nerve to get up, it’s brave.
In my cave, I’d rather stay.
My feet touch the ground,
My ears are delighted by the sound
Of those ready to greet me, it’s me.
Staring steady in the mirror,
Observing the inches that have tightly stretched
Into a larger face.
I’ve shed this skin twice, the third will be the charm!
Wash my hands, cook, wash my hands, clean, wash my hands
Run them through my hair, wash, do, wash, fix, wash, wash, stop.
And the days roll by like numbers.

This vacancy did not belong
Where my soul gives a gentle coercion
But this vacancy never belonged,
the child is gone.
There was never room for the youth
And the brick on my head never held me down, it grew with me, but kept me down
And the shadows from the past echo
to the future
Where the child does not belong
Where the child should have been gone
There is a different person living in every mood change
Now i see myself something different
No longer stifled by good compulsion.
But you don't know what that means
And neither do the others
Rise with their mothers who define the gifts of talents
When mine gave the gift of illness
and tough love I have yet to accept
So the child grew where she did not belong in a vacancy already taken

I want you
There is no way to say
How much I need you
I always will
I need to feel you

Poetry does not have to be beautiful.
Your poetry is yours and yours alone.
It doesn't have to rhyme or
Make someone happy,
Cause not all poetry is happy.
And not all poetry is about something
So simple
That a rhyme could do justice.

I feel the shadows
running in to greet me
I feel me, my skin and bones
And growing old
I wonder
If this was ever real
I ponder
On why I was ever here
So tell me, will you play my game?
Cause I'm often sure that what I play
Is result of a dissociated state

I lay on you, and breathe in the smell
Of your hair, feel the small vibrations
Of your laugh resonating the soft felt pews.
I tell myself I will remember this forever,
So when I miss you, I can still feel you.
The mood grows serious,
The vibrations of your voice shrink down
To a whisper, and crumble
Like rocks beneath a hammer.
"When I die," you say,
Fleeing every so called good feeling felt
Away from this place.
"You're going to get bear,
But I can't tell you what you're getting yet."
She tells us.
Me.
Him.
The only ones here who know.
You told me yesterday, yes you did.
I smiled, I cried, I cussed at God,
I cried again, I bargained,
But I still did not accept.
I smiled and told you it would be okay.
But I think I know deep down inside
That you know deep inside
It might not be okay.
It came back. It's here, in this room,
Inside you.
And I keep making up scenarios where
Someone has asked me
"Would you do this thing if it meant she lived?"
And I always say yes no matter how
****** up the action may be.
Maybe this is the bargaining.
You're not dead yet, but ****
It feels like it.
It will be years.
I'm sure of it.
But I'm just so scared, babe.
I'm so scared.
No one so young should be labeled
With an expiration date,
A summarization of how long their life
Will be.
No one.

If bleeding fixed the problem
Or say if anger
Stitched the wound,
I would have fixed it all too soon
To see the lesson
Life was giving.

Traveling through dunes of sand
You'll find in the dusty corners of my mind
There is a door
Behind that door
The Glory of God is no more
The water is gone
And the prayers we pray
Are not heard.
It's wooden and worn
The floorboards leak through my eyes
Through my fingertips, and through my mouth.
Why give this corner such power?
Cause this corner has power over me.
Defining lines and colors
Speaking little things to me
Hoping I go back.

The real reason I don't want to grow up?
Yes, the bills, the responsibility.
But the fear, the fear of turning out just like
Everyone else did.

They tell me
"Don't grow old."
They say
"I'd rather **** myself than live this way, I did everything wrong."
Well I hear that.
I don't want to grow old because
I don't want to live like that anymore.

I've grown this obsession with doing
Everything the exact opposite than
What they did
So I don't go down their way.

It hurts,
When family holds you,
Looks you in your eyes,
And tells you they want to die.
And nothing I could do
Could suffice that pain
Or price

You better **** the fire before you drown in the water.

I want to,
But I won't.
I need a
Little smoke
But I won't
Cause gettin' it
Means getting up
And once I'm up
My world just flips
Right back down
As I fall too
Into a thousand curtains
Hiding me from what
I want to see
A window where
It's warm outside
But pressing my cheek against
The fabric seems to be enough
I've got to run
But I walk
And the talk of something new
Brings hope for something worse
And confidential lullabies
Sing me to sleep tonight
I'll call you on the phone and say
"I'm good, what about you?"
And you'll say "Good"
And we'll talk for hours repeating same lines
And avoiding the part where you tell me
You are driving to clear your mind
Cause bruises stay sore
And you never tell me anything anymore

A family friend recently
Gave me a Pillow
That I thought was so comfy.
She said "Please get this **** thing
Off my couch."
And I proudly accepted.
I brought it home, cuddled
Put my face to it's round corner
And breathed.
The smell this pillow Gave wasn't too Familiar, no.
It smelled like family movie nights,
Eating at dinner tables.
It smelled like missing a sibling,
But knowing they'll be home when you get there.
It smelled like affection from a tired mother, And falling asleep on her chest.
The smell, not so familiar
Sent me chills
Because the round corners smelled like Everything I crave.
The soft, tender touch of a hand,
And knowing it's not of judging intent.
The smells upon this pillow
Reminding me that
I don't have a way to satisfy my
Craving.

Cancer is a thief
It stole your faith,
Your lust for life

Cancer is a thief
It stole your breath, your lungs
And you from me

Death is not the end of life,
But growing up feels like the end of mine
As I got older, so did you
And you can’t do all the things you used to do
Which made me realize just how much things change

My size, soul, body, thoughts
Your skin, your energy
My memories are all I have left of you,
And of my childhood
Nothing is the same

And I think that it’s okay
That things change
You have to do it sometime
But I wish cancer didn’t steal
What I wanted to have forever

Now my second half comes through
Dripping from the ceiling tops
And falling from the sky, littering
Glittering drops of peace and hate
Will fill my senses
And once again, we might just see
What we were meant to be

Sometimes my mind is here,
Sometimes trapped in my dreamers sleep

"Grew up in that war zone
Wonder where my friends go..."

I feel like running,
Running from what I did to you.
Though you come in drunk
It upsets me,
I still feel like I need to do what makes you happy,
Cause when you're upset,
You get real low.

I want to run,
But got nowhere to go.

If we do it for the taste,
Then why do we swallow?
Every single day, I hope to feel hollow
Follow me, I'll show you nothing.
Are you worth something?
Everyone just wants a little loving.
We all get lonely
So who can blame?
You would do the same
A woman left lonely.

DE, don't wait
I know you want hollow.

A mirror the size of the sky reveals
That I need to change
Though i was made in the image of my God
I was also made in the image of dirt
And molded by the red clay beneath it
And it stained all my clothes
And It stained in the curves of my brain
And through my fingertips
They bleed red
Cause I am *****
I could pray away the red
But it appears on my knees as I kneel
And I know what is real
But i can't hear the voice
And giving every inch of me
Of something I can't see
Is harder than giving every inch of me
To something that's bad for me

Now I know you're okay,
Now I know you're fine
But I've lost a few friends before
And when I held your head I was afraid
To face the fact that one day
We'll split apart by age or death
And I was scared to lose my friend
I realized then that I still have you,
But it scares me when you do not reply to your name
It scares me to think that I could lose you any day

On my day,
Play the fiddle as I’m lowered.
Watch the sun go down, but not in anger.
Watch the moon rise,
As she collects a new night to watch unfold.
Walk away with straight backs and high chins,
And don’t come back til you’ve had your rest.

When I die do not blame your crafting hands
As they couldn’t do what you wanted.
Nothing will stop my judgement day.
When I die, keep that head high,
As my memory is lowered,
Into a place in your heart.
There is no time to weep.
So when you hear that fiddle,
Grant me this one wish.

I know you deserve
More than my offer
I don't think you can love me
I'm bad company

I am every age I’ve ever been,
And she lives inside of me.

I changed, I grew
But I’ll always remember
What it feels like to be 12, 10, 2
To view the world from a perspective
Stolen from me by aging

Now as I grow taller, older, wiser
It is my job to make her happy
The child still inside of me
Who just needed someone like me

Who you used to be
Is between the cracks
In the cushions of your mind,
And at night when you need it
Reach down underneath it

Grab her hand and dig her out
She asking you how things turned out.

Who we used to be,
What we used to know
And see
Is a lesson for who you need to be.

Don't be afraid to ask,
Who you thought you lost.

I'm pouring out my heart
For what I cannot afford.
No, I spent tokens on a cheap
Pair of happiness
For about an hour,
30 minutes to kick in.
Yeah my tokens were stolen,
My hands,
Remain broken.
My tongue still tied
And my mind remains fried.

Heartbreak is Daily
cause I am the king of emotion.

You are the light,
the enigma in my eyes.

The poets job is to think too much
To over-analyze the situations
They are in
Or exaggerate the way they felt
For someone to understand.

The poets job is to use words
As a form of catharsis
So far this way has left
nothing but pain

The poets job is to convey
A world inside their mind
With the words
And leave no emotion behind
To reminisce on things
They hardly remember
Cause they feel too much
For a past
They hardly lived

Or maybe it's just me
That feels this way
But the job we share
Is to entertain
Or strike a thought
To take our lives
And put it into words
On a paper
Because without it
We could not do our job
And our job is to feel

While you spent your night
Having bar room brawls,
I was home alone thinking
What not to say
When you came home.

In a moment when
You realize you would
Give your life for someone
Just so they could live,
You realize you can't.

I know that I'll lose myself again,
And I won't try to win.

If I don't end my life,
I know you'll die before me.
I love you.
I wish the tumor would shrink
Or dehydrate.
I wish it wouldn't grow
So that you could grow instead
I wish that I could take it all away from you
Maybe put it in a jar
And tuck it away so far
That no one would have to see.
I wish I could eat it,
Throw it, **** it, slaughter it,
Whatever it took to get it out your brain
And into mine
Or out of existence so that
You, and angel to this nasty world
Could live, survive, and breathe without pain
At least for a day.
You did nothing, love.
You did nothing to deserve it.
So even I question my faith
When I ask the Lord why the hell
He let this happen to his own.

I need to be locked up,
The noises cost too much.
I get angry,
I wanna punch.
I feel bad.
I need to be locked up.

could not run too fast, or fast enough
could not wrIte or dive too deep
caNnot Explain to others what you'vE Done to me
in fear of what you will
apology accepted for the way you force me to
Happens too fast for mE to say no
that i don't accept the fact you've Lied to me
or accept the fact you have been Parasitic
to a young mind like mine
since day one you've tainted your lines
this "poem'' has no meaning, except the simple phrase
i need to get through. someone please.

True art comes from the pigsty of your mind

I have this feeling that I wanna go home,
But I'm in my room
I have this feeling that I am not where I am supposed to be
But this is where I'm told to be

Is it just me or
Do we see the Devil in our dreams
And think for a moment
What it'd be like under his wing,
Or it may be a stretch but
Do we ever just a look a little
For his touch cause sanity ain't enough.
Anyone else find comfort in pain
But really want to change?
But deep down inside
The pain is a part of your brain
Is the mess you made
And you're too lazy
As they say to clean it up?
Or are you so desperate to
Believe in something that
You create your own temptations
With a demon you have made
And ...

****.

I keep it in a jar,
My last hope of growing old.
I won't let go of my jar,
For it's too precious
To forget.

Dad, I don't really blame you
for needing a drink,
But it's 10, the bars are opening
The stores are closing
And I'm hoping
You come home soon.