But if you weren't "you",
Would it have been alright?
No.
Love is accepting your match
For who they are.
Not who they could be,
Who they will be,
Or who they could change into.
I'm sorry your view is so bleak.
In time you will see,
The one won't run from your words.
They will embrace them, and love them
As they love you.

I feel like an echo
Left behind by those that matter.
Don't worry,
They made sure I know I'm not worth saving.
So maybe I'll move on
When the time is right.
On and on,
Far away from here.

I've stored 5 days' worth of emotion
And instead of writing a riveting masterpiece
I broke down and cried.
Oh well.
I've lost my touch I guess.

Life is a lesson, of loves lived and lost.
Still, we insist upon running a race with no finish line.
Instead, when our speed is diminished,
We stop in place and collapse, letting the world race past.
But it seems, no matter how hard I try,
I can't stop running.
I want to stop with all my heart.
To be left behind to lay on the grass,
Jotting in my notebook.
Writing things that I know will never catch up.
Things that belong in a different time.
And when I am ready,
I'll resume running.
Everyone needs a break now and then.

The clouds obscure the sun,
But somehow,
The light still slips through
And illuminates the sky.

Half of me wants to love,
The other wants to ****.
I balance a longing for a companion
With a thirst to bathe in blood.
Nobody to caress lovingly,
So I run a knife blade
Along the edges of my lips
To hide my frown.
A ghastly grin now sits above my chin,
And still I can't silence the screams.
Oh well, maybe it's for the best.
Nobody will recognize me...
So at least I can't disappoint them.

Good Morning _.
I hope you slept well.
Just lay in bed and relax for a minute.
Don't stress at all.
Just listen to the leaves rustle,
And the birds singing outside the window.
Close your eyes and feel your heart beat,
And know you've made it through another day.
Things do happen, but when they're over,
We get so much stronger.
I know you'll fight through,
And you'll make the whole world catch those hands.
Remember to smile, it really does make the world a better place.
And know that there are people who love you
That are here to help you through.
Get going and kick some ***.
-Mike

If my words are laced with malice,
What is it that's keeping my shoes on my feet?

What can I say that hasn't been said before?
No matter my theme I repeat the rhetoric
Previously set by poets of another age.
Whether it be a minute or millennia ago.
I've written of love, loss, brotherhood, hate,
Family, friends, war, peace, breakage and repair.
I feel like a broken record.
Please, someone turn off the ******* turntable.

You whisper in the ear of a dead man.
Telling him all the things you regret.
What you wish you'd said before.
All of the things you wish you'd done.
And all of the things you wish you hadn't.

But what if his eyes opened to behold,
His ears could comprehend your words,
And his gaze pinned you down trapped?
What if sorrow shown in his soul?
Would you regret your candid confessions?

Would the hurt of words unspoken for years
Digging into his very self and being
Be enough for you to fully understand?
Would you bid him live on in this cold world,
Or cross over to a place where whispers...

Aren't needed?

If I were to drown
In the depths of my subconscious,
I'm not sure I know myself well enough
To find the body.

The shaking body,
Of a boy in a hollow,
Looping a length of rope
Over a gnarled limb
On a yew tree.

The spilling tears
Of a ******* the street,
Running to stop him
Before the deed is done.
The rope snaps taut.

I'm not dumb.
Maybe just happy.
I'm not like them.
But I can pretend.
I'm a visionary.
Misunderstood and unwanted.
If I had a shotgun in my mouth,
You could call me Cobain.
But would you stop me?

I've often wondered
What it would be like
To die by the pen.
Hold myself down
Between paper and ink.
Turn my art against me
And be killed by my own creations.

I can hear you.
I haven't faded to that extreme.
Yet I find myself weary to respond.
I realize the trouble I caused for you.
And I don't want you suffering because of me.
Loneliness is a curse.
But it's not half as bad,
As knowing that I'm the problem.
The warranty is expired.
There's no fixing a broken soul.
And I've decided to spend a lot more time
With my friend Misery.
She loves my company, after all.

When I am less than I once was,
But more than I used to be.

Some say the world is cold.
Devoid of such things as happiness.
If nature is not happy,
Why does an open flame dance?
Of course it also devours all it can.
But wouldn't you if you danced so much?

You message me...
It all rushes back.
I remember the things you did to me.
The dark place you left me in.
The 8 months of scars and tears.
And in that moment,
Total clarity.
Because now I know not to trust you.

The unfortold concussions.
The blindsiding explosions.
I'm broken, yes.
But I'm getting worse.
This is emotional shock.

The burning banner atop the broken building still flapped and snapped in the wild wind.
Sparks jumped from stone to stone and danced amongst the rubble. Shifting piles collapsed and littered the ground with shards of sadness.

In this world
Mass graves cover entire continents.
And all the loved ones of the lost can do
Is lay a torn up blue tarp over the dead
To keep the rain away.

You say you're not perfect.
Your steadfast denial convinces me otherwise.
Is it possible to be perfect without being perfect?
Apparently not.
But you've done it.
So hold on to all of those perfect imperfections.

They found out that I'm defective.
Now there's a stamp on my forehead
"REJECTED, RETURN TO FACTORY"

The soppy firings of the imagination
Filling an otherwise unhappy day
With artificial feelings of being loved
Before snapping awake and facing the crushing truth.

These things that rattle like rocks
On the insides of fearful heads
And bring our deepest horrors
To the forefront of our mental complexion.

I think for a while
I'll retreat within.
Stare at my reflection
Glancing off of these glassy walls.
Close myself off
And surrender for now.
There's not much use pushing
Especially right now.
I have so much ahead of me
That I'd rather go through alone.
It's easier to leave home
After cutting all connections
Anyway.

No, you would not.
But neither would anyone else.

A lit flame is easy enough to burn yourself upon.
But of course, I had to go and add gasoline.

Your words, while true, cut me to the bone.
Very well. I shall cease.

You still don't see it.
Even though I hinted.
So take a good look at this poem.

Yesterday was the end of that fiasco.
Obviously you know which one.
Unfortunately I've reverted to old ways.

You won't get the answer outright
Even if you torture me.
So maybe you need to look closely...

Let it suffice to say it's over and done.
There's no use agonizing over the past.
Not like that will stop me...

I have come to terms with the fact
That you are the real Silvertongue,
And I no longer have a claim on the title.

I know it's ridiculous
To wish every word you write
Was about me.
But that doesn't stop me
From wishing and wishing.
Reading and overthinking,
Sinking deeper,
Refusing to tread water.