Poet, be not afraid.
There are far worse things than
Bad poetry.

Keep writing; like a child keeps
Drawing with the purest of
Disregards to likeness.

The more stones you turn, the more
Gems you produce.

The more ink you rain,
The more gracious your written
Children grow.

All flexing builds muscle.

Rough bricks form castles.

Even Dalì carved canvases to shreds
And started anew
Not caring too much.
Not caring

Too much
To keep painting.

Anger,
as black as a hook,
overtakes me.
Each day,
each ****
took, at 8:00 A.M., a baby
and sauteed him for breakfast
in his frying pan.

And death looks on with a casual eye
and picks at the dirt under his fingernail.

Man is evil,
I say aloud.
Man is a flower
that should be burnt,
I say aloud.
Man
is a bird full of mud,
I say aloud.

And death looks on with a casual eye
and scratches his ****.

Man with his small pink toes,
with his miraculous fingers
is not a temple
but an outhouse,
I say aloud.
Let man never again raise his teacup.
Let man never again write a book.
Let man never again put on his shoe.
Let man never again raise his eyes,
on a soft July night.
Never. Never. Never. Never. Never.
I say those things aloud.

we have listened to the
same three albums over
fifty times, and i am
running out of way to
avoid telling you the truth

i am scared to find the
person i'll have to become
when you're not around
any
more

(so
much
of
me
is
you)

Solitude found a friend in me
Winter stole the rest
Wondering where my heart might be
While soul is sinking west

A paler shade of night comes 'round
Moon forgets to rise
An empty lamp of light surrounds
A view of starless skies

With eyes shut wide to lonesome light
Dreams escape my thoughts
Silence awakens fear of flight
A journey all for nought.

r ~ 4/16/14

I'm entertained by the thought of talking to myself
I haven't yet met a mind as perfect for me
as, well, me
and maybe an imaginary friend wouldn't go amiss
in this whirlwind of loneliness and
mindless stimuli.
I'm busy constantly, on my phone,
studying,
sleeping,
playing an instrument,
'quiet time' is only when I'm with other people
because I can go on autopilot
and alone is when I think too fast for speaking or writing
alone is when my mind fades into white noise
alone is when the walls don't feel like walls.
I'm entertained by the thought of talking to myself
because I need someone with me,
especially when there's no one there,
because that's the worst time for proper thinking;
-I'm always distracted, never-focused-
other people focus me.
other people are the magnifying lens, the bounce-off,
alone is terrifying so I avoid it by stimulating my mind
with pointless ****,
while talking to myself would
probably be more productive.
I'm entertained by the thought of talking to myself,
because that way,
I'd never have to be alone.