How ill doth he deserve a lover’s name,
     Whose pale weak flame
     Cannot retain
His heat, in spite of absence or disdain;
But doth at once, like paper set on fire,
     Burn and expire;
True love can never change his seat,
Nor did her ever love, that could retreat.

That noble flame which my breast keeps alive
     Shall still survive
     When my soul’s fled;
Nor shall my love die when my body’s dead,
That shall wait on me to the lower shade,
     And never fade;
My very ashes in their urn
Shall, like a hallow’d lamp, forever burn.

every time I let the memories back in
I lose her again
every time I think of now and then
I've just lost my best friend
all over again
and I roll over again
tossing and turning in bed another night
making a night's sleep another fight
hiding my eyes under covers from the morning light
knowing that nothing now can make it all alright
and my heart aches and my chest squeezes tight
and I lose hope, and I lose my desires, and I lose sight
of anything that could make me whole now
of what could help me relearn to be proud
and I cringe, and I scratch at the sores, and I gush pain aloud

what can ever make me whole now?

true, I gave her up, I cast her like a stone
just to watch the ripples and to be myself, alone
but they never explain the solitude of the throne
or the anticipating the mail and the waiting by the phone
or the feeling of no arms around you like losing your home
like watching the fires of your greed burn down all you've grown

I'm sorry for every time I yelled
I'm sorry for all the bad memories her stories have to tell
I'm so sorry for her pain ringing like a bell
not fading fast enough like she can't forget me fast enough for it to quell
because I broke our spell
I'm sorry for the distance and the personal, inflicted hell
and the feeling of nausea that is nothing can make either of us well

with the depths of this consuming hole as I fall, not proud
and the pains that make me wince aloud
what could ever make me whole now?

So I'm a "fly" white guy,
with "Jet" black tendencies,
Try to be a nice guy,
But somehow end up the enemy.
I'll treat you like a princess,
But I'm a fort,
You can't get into me.

It makes no sense to me.

How did this knight in shining armor,
Get slain by the dragon?
So once upon a time,
I was a hero,
Now I'm a has-been.
Last in the castle for I belong with the Pagans,
Slaying distressed damsels,
Giving hell to the angels
With strangers wrapped in mangers,
Destined for greatness.
Trapped within this labyrinth of my cranium.

But when it comes to blame,
My pigmentation begins to change,
But this time it's not my shame.
'Cause you play the same game
That the dames did before you.
You're no different.
You're not worth a fortune.
Fortunately, you revealed your horns for me.
It's torturing how for me it ended horribly,
and you moved on to the same dude you ******* before me.

Love's supposed to be patient,
Love's supposed to be kind,
Instead it's a battlefield
Filled with landmines.

You say it's false,
that nice guys finish last?
Well clarify why I'm starin',
At taillights from my past.
They say when you have everything,
You give nothing back.
So I guess that explains
Why your feelings for me lack.
You're like "You're a white guy,
That tends to be black.
Well how in the hell
Can I get used to that?"
That's *******.
You're afraid of commitment.
That's why you had to end it,
Before it could begin with.
You're a cynical, sinister,
Hypocritical minister,
Angelic sinner sent to incriminate innocence.
Evil's equivalent,
Yet as sweet as carcinogens.
If heartbreak were a game,
Girl, you would be winnin' it.
If my soul were a food,
You would've finished it.
I had a confident conscience,
but girl you diminished it.
Listen kid,
I get you're immature and ****,
But don't go and slander my name
When you used to worship it.

Love's supposed to be patient,
Love's supposed to be kind,
Instead it's a battlefield
Filled with landmines.

A minute amount of madness
A smidgen of disregard
Every act a flagarant mirror
Of the surrounding Bizaar

Here I am
Living proof
That YOLO is a false statement
Because here I have lived
Over a million times
Walked in the shoes
Of a million people
And those who have seen the life
That is either as bad as mine
Or as good as mine
Have become the inspiration to every poem
I am not just your average poet
I am the voice of the speechless
The ears to the unheard
Why should the rejected be refused
We still bleed
Even if we bleed
Blood darkened with poison
You Only Live Once is a false statement
Because I have killed myself
Over a million times
Within the words
I have painted onto lines
I am an artist
Words that might be cold
Words that might be heavenly
But still words
Intended for an audience
That can comprehend their meaning
I have murdered millions of people
Within the words
Yet they still stand
They still try to tear me down
They still reject the refused
I ****, I commit suicide
Every time I close my eyes
So continue to use a statement
False in every way
You Only Live Once
You Die You **** Every Chance You Are Given

Take a raven from its nest
and it shall show you which is best
a ******* rose that reeks of death
or basilisks fire, poison breath
wipe that smirk from 'cross your face
and go to hell to learn your place
the demons there will treat you well
that is of course if you can stand the smell
if after that you've learned your place today
then I shall allow your life
be thenceforth cleansed from my wicked knife
reaper reaper set me free
before lord satan sets fire to me
and burns my soul 'fore I can live
and finds some torture I am with
fly away on ******* wings
but know that when the fat lady sings
your soul is mine for the reaping
and your mind is mine for the creeping.

There are two tonight-
two ambulances,
red lights illuminating the dark neighborhood
as they make their weekly trip to the old folks home
at the end of the street.
This could be the end of eight decades for someone
for a neighbor of mine.
Could be one less crazy old woman
walking down the street shouting at the neighborhood dogs
(and mailboxes).
The lights fade from view as they cross 9th.
A tear falls to my desk
as I wonder
"who was that?
what ended tonight?"
and as I lay down and roll over to stare at the wall
I imagine who they could have been.