The boxes
which keep my blood clean
are stacked as tall as I,
a monument
in the spare room
to past battles.
Too many words,
too many thoughts
******* in the
hand-to-hand combat
with mortality.

No more.

What life I have
will not be defined
by an indeterminate end.

I live to write poems;
I will no longer die in them.
Camus knows.
 Mar 20 Joseph Zenieh
 Mar 20 Joseph Zenieh
maybe you're outer space,
maybe you're the ocean,
all I know is that
I have an unquenchable thirst
to explore you to the endless.
maybe its because of your vastness,
maybe its your seemingly infinite depth,
but like space and the ocean
I can't help but hold my breath
the further I go into you.
you invite wonder
you invite adventure
you leave me dreaming
 Mar 10 Joseph Zenieh
sitting underneath the stairs, i realized suddenly:
i could die here.

i could die here,
and would anyone know?
i could die here, under the ***** staircase,
and nothing would change.

a friend of mine came for me eventually;

someone i don't know too well,
but well enough.

and she squeezed my hand and told me,
"you're not alone."

as my breathing grew ragged and my chest constricted and my eyes ached, i belatedly realized that was the most terrifying prospect of all.
only thing worse than feeling alone is knowing that so many others feel alone... hope everyone out there is feeling loved.
 Mar 8 Joseph Zenieh
***. How am I still not okay?

***. It's been so long.

***. I'm so tired of life right now.

***. What happened to me?

I was such a nice kid.
I was calm all the time.
Mature for my age,
Little but so lively.

I was so helpful.
So loyal.
I always supported my trust.
But I never really spoke my mind.

I was shy.
I was small.
I never stood up for my feelings
I never stood up for myself.

And now I'm older.
I realize I don't need support.
I need myself.
I need confidence.

Speaking your mind is not wrong.
Standing up for your feelings isn't rude.
Standing up for yourself isn't mean.
Saying what you feel doesn't make you imperfect.

No one's perfect. Not even them.
The ones you hate for being so amazing.
Maybe she has anxiety.
Maybe his mom is alcoholic.

No one has a perfect life.
There's not one perfect family in the world.
There is not a person in the world who's perfect.
There's not a person who doesn't have one bit of strife.

But just because you aren't perfect.
Doesn't make you less worth it.
You're amazing.
You're still charming, kind, and strong.

You're just more experienced.
You just understand some more things now.

And maybe, just maybe,
You just aren't as shy anymore.
I'm not perfect. But I'm not shy anymore either.
 Mar 3 Joseph Zenieh
I had been dreaming
about eating bruised peaches
that grew from a tree
by the river, its water
thick and sweet as sap.

I thought I saw an old woman
shaking her dustmop,
but it was only the moon
and stardust in the dark
that never stops.

In the fields
there was something barren
like a journey
and echoes of salt
sprinkling on a table
with food laid out for a wake.

The fog from the dream
by the river was smothering;
I was suffocating lying there
where it is said a young mother
once walked into the water
with the pockets of her dress
stuffed full of smooth rocks.

I woke when I heard
shouting that tore out the light
as night came flying by
like a bird dressed for a feast
wearing his finest black feathers.
As I lie here
With eyes closed softly
I think deeply of you
And I inhale stars
The scent of twinkling light
So fresh and alive
Sparkling gentle inside me
And I want to write this feeling
So tentatively
As it must be
Like writing words on bubbles
Delicate and precious
Begging them not to disappear
Like dreams in the morning

                                        By Phil Roberts
This may well be my last poem here.
 Feb 25 Joseph Zenieh
Boy just take it easy
Boy just take it slow
Please don't give up now
You have so much further to go

Put that gun down boy
Step away from the ledge
All the demons your fighting
Don't have to stay in your head

Let me help you boy
Let me be your light
You and I together boy
We'll give 'em a **** of a fight

This is it boy
It's time for war
With me by your side
It'll be easier than before

We got this boy
We won't back down
We'll take 'em all on
We'll knock 'em to the ground

Boy let's take it easy
Boy let's take it slow
All the demons you fight
Will no longer call you home
The sky is crying.
It’s shedding tears of loneliness and sorrow.
Puddles of its feelings have formed on the ground.
While kids with red boots trample all over them.

I’m probably a bad person.
Since I enjoy its weeping.
But I cannot help it.
I find it to be cathartic.
The brightest colors turn opaque.
While a place that was once silent fills with the sound of loud whimper.  
Its tears make me forget my own.
As the clouds roar in pain while being consoled by the cold wind.

But its no use.
The sky wants to shed some tears tonight.
And with every drop,
Every sob.
I can feel the sky,
getting vulnerable for everyone to see.
Being able to expose everything.
Doing it in pain yet gracefully.
Isn’t that just beautiful.
I would say I’m in love with you
But that wouldn’t be true.
Because I’m not in love with you.
Just with the thought of you.

I'm in love with the thought of traveling together.
To the place our hearts lead us.
Hand in hand,
as we see our dreams come true.  

Or just the thought of staying at home.
Binge watching our favorite series.
While eating all that we shouldn’t.
Regretting it after.
But doing it all again the next week.

I'm in love with the thought of loving you.
Warming up in your embrace.
While our hands fit in the right place.
And your kisses softly becomes bliss.

Or just the thought of spending
Every birthday,
Every holiday,
Every day.
With you.

But then again,
I’m not in love with you.
Just with the thought of you.
Who knows. I might be in love with you after all.
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