Why does every poem published feel risky?
Why does it cause me such a hard time?
I think "What am I even doing?"
And "Am I wasting my time?"

Is it recognition that I'm seeking?
Or is there something else I'm trying to find?

And just what is wrong with me?
Is this a talent, obsession, or is it an affliction?

If you could only see the way i scribble addictively..
I wouldn't be shocked if you staged an intervention.
Am I a poet or am I losing my sanity?
And could all my hopes be founded in fiction?

Still, my goal isn't nearly defined.
My mental organization could be improved..
I write as much as a nut case of some kind.
Is it in my best interest for my pen to be removed?

Patterns and stanzas keep me shallowly refined.
I'll ignore the hazard; it's excused.

*No reason to admit defeat because of cold feet.

1, 2, 3, 4
Counting
Always counting

Staring at clocks
Stomach in knots

Breadcrumb trails
In the little details

Of what has been lost..

Lately
Sometimes
I think, maybe
I'm a little
lost..

Just counting

Hours* fly by in minutes
While they *drag on for days

You're standing beside me
But I know you're miles away

My head won't stop spinning
As I search for the words to say..

*..And I need you here with me
But you've already gone away..

I wish I met you sooner
my heart knows no love
I wish I met you sooner
so my heart knows love

my soul was empty
yours too
my soul was empty
yours was too

I loved to write
you loved to draw
I love you
you love me

I was afraid
you were scared
we took a gamble
look at us now

I smoke 4 am cigarettes
For my 4 am regrets

...

Money, drugs, and cheap ***
Nothing more, nothing less

And coordinated train wrecks
With filthy secrets to confess

Beer breath and sad texts
Bred by my building stress

...

I smoke 4 am cigarettes
For my 4 am regrets

It makes me sick to my stomach and oh so intensely nauseous
How I helplessly play your laugh on loop, like an involuntary shrine, inside my aching head

Stunning smile, smooth voice belonging to a trickster so skillfully dishonest
New self-made self-esteem; empowered to say you can save yourself instead

Sin-stained waltz with a demon, misery's baggage kept hidden in closets
Black and white scenes bleeding grey; colors slaughtered as beauty is violated then abandoned- dim, dull, and dead

A cheap shell of a person, drained dry then discarded- intimacy ******* and cautious
Belittled my self-worth, fed your ego; *emotional homicide every night I layed on "my side" of your bed..

I felt these vibes
The special kind
Aided my high
And blew my mind
Pausing time
Evolving tribes
An uphill climb
And rocky ride