you wear two eyepatches instead of a blindfold
i look ridiculous

you invite me inside and step on my foot
i buy you new shoes

nuance is dead
i am tired of pretending to recognize subtlety

you should leave me to my hobbies
of dancing around topics i care about,
and playing ping pong with a table made out of people

i request we normalize stupidity like we do kindness and terror
laughing through time as if it were linear
i request a bed of nails for the back support

may i sink peacefully into the wood below

Ahem! Let's try this part of the infinite abyss, shall we? Here we go, follow my lead!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA­AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA­AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA­AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA­AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA­AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA­AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA­AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!­!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

if I popped a balloon for every time I felt
black sludge in place of where serotonin should be,

I'll have ruined my own birthday party.
...oh, where are the guests?
did I cancel on them or did they cancel on me?

oh well. I still have my cake.
my black, sludge cake.

We've been together for four years.

After a lovely vacation on the beautiful island of Maui, Hawaii, I present to her a small, felt box, small enough to fit in my hand.

I open it.

A hamster the size of a thumb lays there, gasping for air as the oxygen comes rushing back to the tiny creature. His little lungs were straining with effort.

She gasped at the sight.

One would think that my decision to keep a hamster in an airtight box for no other reason than to entertain her would be an alarm bell of sorts.

It wasn't. Not to her.

She called me honey and named it powdered sugar, right before it scampered away, searching for freedom anywhere on this big sandy place, only to drown when a crashing wave swallowed it whole, mercilessly washing away its tiny footprints.

A better name for the hamster would be...

Our relationship?

Anyway. She tends to only call me monster, now.

If only she had heard the alarm instead of the wedding.

Looking down the corridor I see a
door that's being held open for a
man who wears two eye patches, a
frown seen somehow in the dark
outline of his silhouette-

I don't get how he's doing that, what? huh?

Tearing through the crowd of men looking down
I see a dent in the ground and I
narrowly step to avoid the
hollow tile, my eyes widen
I realize that he's gone-

Why was this man walking blind so strangely?

Then I see, everyone has left this place
I pace looking for a space to see
just how everyone has left me, I
can't fathom what magic, where,
where does this corridor lead?

The door reads: "To my friends I left behind."

How asinine.

I might secretly be a snake

it feels as if I'm wearing my own skin as a mask

it is no longer my own

and no one wants to buy a used skin...

I wish a snake would tell me how to shed it.

but if I do, will I still be a person? will I still be the same?

I...

I suppose i'll... keep wearing the full body mask, and try to remember the mannerisms of me, so no one gets suspicious.

it's working so far.

but I think that's because the humans around me aren't looking for the right things, if at all...

I'd like to meet other snakes.

if I peel back the skin on your face,
will I see a television screen
tuned to a channel that recently went down?

the tone of colorful bars and absent cables fills your head.

does my voice blend in with the noise, love?
i miss the times when I can tell you're listening to my nonsense.

it's nonsense baked special for you.

She wore a straitjacket.
It was a tight fit.
Writhing around, she begged for a knife, begged anyone who passed her by.
No one seemed to have more than one glance to throw her way.

This screaming, terrified woman, stumbling through streets and patches of grass,

She yelled for someone to free her. But the most intense emotion she's seen as of late was fear, and fear was an ugly color. She couldn't help but reflect it back.

She found her situation... tragic.

But, one day, someone finally tries to help her.

Taking a knife, this kind stranger begins to cut into this restraint she's found herself in.

And, instead of looking relieved, this woman screams louder, and runs away on broken feet. She runs away as fast as her starving legs could take her.

Because this straitjacket was made of skin.

The pain of metal in her flesh restraint, was unbearable.

Maybe once she's aware of the cycle, she'll push through the pain, to see her arms again...

Doubtful.

yeah, we spill word ***** on here sometimes

i pour myself a large bowl of pure, unadulterated life

and I microwave it down to its essentials

personally, it tastes like melting plastic and rubbery massages

that's not a very pleasant taste, so one must throw it up somewhere...

but in a way, the ***** people share can be quite lovely to look at, don't you think?

I like it, at least.

It's strange how everyone knows how to imitate a ghost
Strange how you never knew you could disappear, start anew
Away from someone you hated or someone you found in...

Distaste.
Disappear like that, skin faded, teeth clattered to the ground,
Feeling anything, everything but flattered by the sound.
Please, watch how your friends abandon you
because you're too loud

Mistake.
Is what you're called, silence by choice- you don't deserve a voice
It's what you learned. You're my friend, now. It's your turn, try me out-
I'm the only friend you'll ever need. Your first defense, yes

Don't protest.
Because it's really, really strange, my best friend, strange how you
Never learned how to imitate a ghost.

hindsight
is the ******* teacher
who tells you what you could have done to get an A
when you've already turned in your D level assignment.

have i learned anything?
we'll see.

your voice usually only has to walk through one door
to get its message across
the door being your teeth, of course

but my voice walks through an infinite amount of doors

and some of them lead nowhere?

some of them lead everywhere.

i'm not sure what the door situation is in my body, but

i know that my voice is tired by the time it reaches my teeth.

He walked along my path.
He wasn't expected.
A variable I had never calculated.
His heavy, confident footsteps shifted the sands of my mind
And I find that not everything makes sense anymore.
I'm always covered in blood.
Sometimes it's mine. Sometimes it's not.
But he makes me feel alright about it.
All the time.

He stood in my way.
I had seen him around before.
I had never thought to speak to him, until then.
His precise, light footsteps left a mark in the mud of my mind
And I'm left surprised, shocked, uncomprehending.
He's always covered in blood.
He concerns me, scares me,
But he has a twinkle about him that leaves me wanting more.
And so I took it.

I have a foot stuck in my head
Wherever I go
I have no time I spend
Sitting alone
I have no reason to stay
With my foot stuck home
I forgot how to be brave
When there's no one to show
My accomplishments to
I've lost my shoe
And I refuse to walk
Barefoot on the cold hard ground

Don't you dare cry for me-
For I can do that myself.
I simply choose not to,
Because then you'd tell me
Your addicting lies.

I don't understand human nature;
But I do try my best, trust me.
Your emotions are endlessly puzzling;
And even more so when I feel your pain.

For someone who has such a way with words,
Who can ravel them around my neck and lead me anywhere;
You get tongue-tied when I show you the same talent.

The truth brings you a pain I don't wish for you to suffer;
Lie to me and tell me I'm beautiful, for I will readily accept it.

The side of myself that loves you,
Isn't strong enough
To admit it.
The side of myself that hates you,
Is scared of what's to come.

"Who are you?" I ask aloud.
"There should only be one, but I can see two."

"Who am I?" You repeated my question.
"I'm the one who can never leave your side."

"If your here to stay," I sigh and sit.
"You might as well help me through this day."

"That's not what I do," You laughed and jumped.
"My job is to set up obstacles to drag you through."

"What's the point?" I tilted my head.
"We are one of the same, connected at the joint."

"No, we aren't." You rolled your eyes.
"I'm the one preventing you from trying anything new."

you tell me i'm lying
when i say i want to be alive
but that isn't true
i really do

when i say i want to be alive
theres a reason i say it
its me calling out
because being alive isnt what im doing right now

no
what im doing
is slumping around
afraid of real change
afraid things will stay the same

i do not have a ball and chain
i am a ball and chain
to do the bidding of certain people
at the expense of others
i am a ball and chain
when i am pulled
instead of going along
the best i can give you
is a slow roll

things seem so far away from you
far away from my face
is it real if i cant see why?
i cant see why i want to die

a deep, coffee brown that reaches to bright blond
i almost want to write you a song.
eyes like crystals beaten down,
but you don't notice this clown
this clown who tries to make you laugh
and when you do i have a heart attack
i live to see you shocked
i remember when we talk
when we dont my heart stops
i cant walk
i hate to see you mad
i rarely ever do bad
i see your face my heart goes ablaze with appreciation
with appreciation...
with appreciation of your smile
i'll stare for a while
by a while i mean two seconds
because you stretch out time
like a wave of... rhymes.

I SPEAK FOR FIVE.
THEY DON'T ALWAYS ALIGN.

I speak, for four.
Talking, is a chore.

I speak for three,
They don't always agree,

i speak for two.
they dont have a clue.

i speak for one
it's not very fun

now i don't speak at all
i want my friends back

you're obviously wearing a mask,
take that ridiculous thing off.
i will shatter the reason you wear it,
and drive you off a cliff,
watching you fall.

then i will pick you up,
and smother you with hugs,
because you didn't deserve my outburst,
only undying love.

he was a man with no shadow
and the light began to swallow him
whole
he couldn't see at all
he was a man who walked far
and the sand began rise to his
chest
he didn't have rest
he
    was
            a
                man
                     with
                            no
shadow
but this wasn't always the case
until he won the
race
everyone knows him
everyone feels like they know
his struggle
they grow restless when they see
his stubble
he
   was
        a
         man
              with
                     a
shadow
but that has been faded
to time.

when you're a part of something
it can feel amazing
everyone is so close together
everyone has a hand when another falls
and everyone is nearby to hear your call

but
sometimes there's a corrupt little bug
spreading its corrupt little drug
of negativity

and because we're all so close together
it's a ripple effect of mass proportions
and because we all feel together
we know
when someone almost dies.

"quick, i need your shoe."
you said to me
and i didn't hesitate as we
ran outside.

i threw off my shoe
i didn't know what you were going to do
i didn't question it, however
i just wanted to make the problem better

soon i learned
our little group of friends were trading shoes
"i just wanted to wear your shoe"
you said,
"it's interesting to see
the way you walk
how your foot's developed
to the paths you took"

it wasn't an emergency, i felt relieved
i don't know what i expected
and we bonded,
over wearing each other's shoes.
walking each other's paths.

"this one makes my toes curl."
"i have small feet!"
"this one makes me sad."
"i'm not a very happy person."
"this one is really big!"
"my feet are pretty wide."
"this one feels lumpy."
"i need more stability in my life!"

amazing how much i can learn
from your shoe.
i hope that you have learned
from me, too.

water makes sure you don't die of thirst
but too much of it, and you drown.

fire makes sure you don't catch a sickness
but too much of it, you burn.

land is the place we all make home
but too much of it, we get crushed.

air is what keeps us going indefinetly
and sure, it gets windy
but air is only harmful
when there's not enough

i keep my heart in my head
and my mind in my mouth
i keep my eyes on my ears
and my ears point south

because i know
you'll come from the south
im reading the compass vertically
not horizontally

i keep my friends in my heart
and myself in my head
i tell them i care with my mouth
and i stare with my ears
my eyes only see hatred.

time doesn't pass
when i sit in this class
sitting on my ***
i can't really see
beyond the past.

i hear people talking
but i don't hear anyone stopping
to think about the time they're robbing
from my sleep
my head is fogging

but i trek on
type out this little song
these hours are long
and i'm waiting
to see what i did wrong.

it will be over
it will stop this exposure
my time will return to it's owner
and i'll go back
to my family who isn't sober

you know that feeling when your leg falls asleep
but then you move slightly
and the feeling comes rushing back
and it tickles slightly?
there's a metaphor to be had
somewhere in there.

i'm a reservoir of confidence
i keep it for those that i love
they draw it from me, no matter how much they say
i'm embarrassing them
because i make people laugh
that is the key to confidence
because when you laugh off any worries you had
you get pulled into the moment,
and forget what was bothering you in the first place.

i pledge to be a reservoir of confidence
to keep it only for those that i love
this reservoir will never run out
unless i use it myself.

i would say, i have a reason to get out of bed
but you won't allow yourself to be my reason
so, i don't say that.

Take a flower,
Keep it with you all day.
Eventually,
It will wilt away.
Take a flower,
Hold it close to your chest.
One day, you know,
I will have to rest.

But my garden remains
You're welcome any day
But you can't stay, no,
No, you cannot stay.

Take a ****,
You can hold it for a moment.
Throw it away,
That's the agreement.
Take a ****,
Don't think on it too long.
Please, you know,
Not to dwell on the past.

And my garden remains.
You can come in any day.
I appreciate the help, I do,
I do,
But you cannot stay,
You can't stay, no,
Please don't stay.

Take a memory,
Keep it with you all day,
Take a memory,
Then throw it away.
You can always,
Dig back for it.
But don't keep it,
Don't keep it,
For more than a day.

My garden remains.
You're welcome any day,
But you cannot stay.
You cannot stay.

You cannot stay,
In the garden, In the garden,
You cannot stay,
Because that's where I live.
You cannot stay,
In the garden, In the garden,
You cannot stay.

But I wish you would stay.

how are you supposed to make me see your reality,
when the one thing that comes from it,
is god awful?

you want me to see things your way,
you want me to see things in the "light of day"
but right now, from where i'm standing,
seeing you, a glimpse in your reality,
it's a hell of oblivion i wish not to live in.

i say, i'm in the "light of day"
because, judging by where you want to take things,
i see no color.

have you ever put yourself in the middle of a toxic relationship?
what a curious question to ask,
probably not, no, no.

because you love yourself,
or at least, have the basic instincts
of self-preservation
or maybe you're equipped to handle these things
well, i wasn't.

being in the middle of a toxic relationship,
things tend to be warped.
you aren't dealing with an unstoppable force
and an immovable object
but rather, two immovable objects
and two unstoppable forces
simultaneously.

you're usually forced to pick a side
no matter how adamant you are about
how there is no "side", i tell them,
i tell them,
there is you, and there is you, and there is me,
and you've brought me here to help
not to harm
and the weird notion that there ever was a "side"
in something that is supposed to be a relationship,
is nothing but harmful,
detriment, painful,
unhelpful.

but, this does little to nothing,
because in the middle of a toxic relationship,
the two are worn down,
torn down,
stripped bare until you have their most inner instincts
their most inner thoughts,
their inner child,
and we all know
a child doesn't listen

in the middle of a toxic relationship,
the only thing they can seem to agree on
is when i'm wrong, when i've done bad,
when i'm in the wrong

but when you've been in the middle of a toxic relationship
for long enough,
it eventually wears you down, to the point where you're patience is gone,
finished,
extinct,
and eventually, you're forced to choose a side

when you're in a toxic relationship,
my advice,
is to run.

If you lost all sensory capability next week,
how would you prepare?
it's an insane thing to think about,
not being in the same universe as the rest.

you won't be in a universe at all, it might feel like,
you'd just be floating, unable to feel pressure
unable to feel a hug
or the head of a dog
or even your feet on the ground

You'd be left alone with your thoughts,
And with no external stimuli,
Would you remember,
Or forget everything you've ever loved?

It's easy to fall in love
When you've been starved of friendship for so long
You can't grasp the concept correctly anymore

You have to remember, my friend,
That sometimes
People are simply happy to see you,
And it seems as if
You've never met real people before

I make you laugh, you say,
I'm exaggerative and expressive,
And you call me pathetic
When I can't open a door

I tell you, you're strange,
But I say, "never change,"
And this will confuse you,
Because you say others use you,
And they'll accuse you
Of refusing to be normal

You'll say you've never told anyone before
Before I came knocking on your door
Coaxing you to be honest
Telling you that you're flawless,

This is because, dear friend,
You've never met real people before

The truth is a weird thing
It could be different for
Two very similar people.

Some of us try to hide it,
For either the benefit of me,
Or the benefit of you,
Or perhaps the benefit of
Everyone but.

Why do you see a lie
When I try to tell you the truth?
Once you open your eyes,
You'll blame me.

Why, I haven't hidden anything,
My dear paranoid one,
For I've simply been sitting here
Watching your suspicions grow
Out of hand.

Because a suspicion is always
More intense than the truth
It's funny how
You think I lose
In this debate of lies
I tried to say
You're the one hearing them
Now, have a nice day.



Did I really mean that?
Who knows.
I suppose I can't do anything
But wait for you to decide
For yourself.

so schools starting up again,
we were out for winter break, in case you didn't know.
it's weird to have a winter break
but never see a drop of snow.

my backpack is empty
my sadness returns
seeing those familiar faces
makes my eyes burn

this isn't a sad poem, though,
it's just about school.
im relating to the young souls
who can feel this too.

because they know,
we really don't learn much
so why are we judged
by the grades we're forced to bring up?

why can't we be judged
by who we actually are,
instead of meaningless numbers
that spawn from meaningless subjects
that come from meaningless
noise

no, i will not take your compliment,
because i am undeserving of the words.
no, i will not take your compliment,
because when you say those things, it hurts.
it hurts that you waste your words on something,
that wasn't worth your time.
no, i will not take your compliment,
because you will not take mine.

The way everything else does.
Everything has a foundation,
A solid block to stand on.

Songs need a perfect string of syllables,
And a cool, catchy tune.
A book needs character arcs
And a story that can make one swoon.

But a poem chooses what it does,
What it says and how it says it,

w e c a n s p a c e o u t t h e l e t t e r s
OR TYPE IN ALL CAPS.

i                            to                                          of
  am       limited          the                     lines         the
      not                                  implied                                page

and i dont rlly have to use proper grammer, nessisarily,

Because as long as a poem gets across its message,
The "why" of it all,
Well, that's a good poem in MY book,
My book of feelings nailed in the wall.

how am i supposed to go back to my life,

when i don't know where it is?

it seems i've misplaced it,

or maybe it's broken,

because everyone who once was in the picture,

i see lying shattered on the ground.

do i follow the trail of glass?

did my life get up and walk away?

what if i don't want to find my life?

i don't want to experience the shock

because when my life slipped away from my grasp

it left silently

but now, if i find it,

or rather, if it's forced back into my possession,

i'll hear nothing but screaming, and ringing in my ears

for the next ******* week,

because my life is like a sobbing baby

who doesn't yet understand

not everything goes it's way.

i had an epiphany recently
about candy

candy: a delicious treat that comes in various shapes and sizes,
all forms of it
maddeningly unhealthy.

i hadn't gone grocery shopping in a while,
so i was eating candy, because it was the only thing in the house.
it wasn't that i couldn't afford food,
it was that i didn't make the fact clear enough
that there wasn't any food left.

this isn't a poem yet, bear with me:
i went to a friend's house,
i was served something that could be considered "real food",
and I threw up.
my friend was confused, and worried.
i explained, i had a really sensitive stomach.
i thought it was because i was too full,
i had eaten m&m's for lunch before that taco,
and i knew i should have refused
but i didn't want to be rude.

my friend glared at me, and said:
"have you really ONLY eaten m&m's for the past few days?"
well, yes. it was sustenance, wasn't it?
i had to eat.
i didn't understand what was wrong with me.

then, she said:
"that's called starvation."
starvation? but i ate-
then i realized, she was right.
you can replace food in your life with candy,
like you can replace a friend with a screen,
or sunlight with a bright lightbulb,
or exercise with a single jumping jack,

and you can do this for an indefinite amount of time,
because you don't think too much about the replacement,
or the emptiness you feel,
the mysterious presence that isn't actually there, the opposite of a presence, you could say (if you'd like).

but eventually, if you don't get the real thing,
you'll die.

people have eyes,
like a dog has a nose,
or a rabbit has ears.

They see context,
they see the ins and outs of certain words,
of certain poems.

They create scenarios,
either ones that have existed,
or ones out of the blue,
simply to understand.

i see hills and trees of
immeasurable height,
limited only by
the ceilings of my mind,

i see oceans and sand that
go down until
the bottom loses color

i see incredible feats
and terrible defeats
and i see you with that job you wanted
and me with the confidence i deserve

but one thing i still can't imagine

is me without you

no one understood you
no one really could
i wish i could leave, too
but i don't know if i should.

                                        you had your quirks
                                        they made up your personality
                                        i now wonder if you lurk
                                        as a ghost in my morality.

it's a shame you aren't here
aren't with me till the end
but i'm still here
goodbye, best friend.

i travel along the page
    like i do in my thoughts
          here's a particular one:
              "i sit alone in a cot,
                   breathing air i just bought,
                         crying alone because i sought,
                                   to find the one who explains
                                                        ­               ...apricots"    
oh, it seems that thought
       fell apart at the end there
           but thoughts are slippery
                          and hard to grasp.
                                   let me try again:
                                       "i gasp at the sight
                                             of melancholy fright
                                                    it knows that tonight
                                                         ­       ...i like pink lights"
hmm. strange.
     are these thoughts falling apart,
                or are they just too eccentric
                                for me to understand
...probably the former.

do i have a place
in this house,
in my home?
do i have a face
in your eyes,
in your mind?
we will have a new place
in a moment,
in a week.
but will i still be there
in your thoughts?
maybe not