A poem isn't effort.

Emotions aren't squeezed out,
but bleed out
into their own being.

The poet
a mere catalyst
for their expression,
letting go of continuous
repression.

Bleeding constructively.

I'm
Not overly
Attentive
Subtlety often
Eludes me
And details
Of important
Are often forgotten
Perhaps I should
Go slower
Or fetch
Some adderall.

and here i am again
at the intersection
of pedestrian language
& old wives tales
swallowing gum
like 7 year memories
opening umbrellas inside
cause i can't seem get away
from all of this rain
i ******* with my left hand
cause i was told
back in highschool that
"it feels like someone else is doing it"
it gets me wondering
about the difference between
losing you and finding out
that some one else found you
or my sleep
or lack thereof
its starting to tear me apart
i keep having this dream
where you are in
an unfamiliar body of water
trying to wash my poetry
off of your hands
or the one where
something happens in my chest
every time you sit
on someone else's bed
i'm tired of feeling like something you've misplaced
but don't have the heart
to look for anymore
tired of you saying my name
like you're trying to bury it
i'm tired of wondering
if you can tell the difference
between the absence
of my voice & silence
the other day
i almost started sobbing
at work when a woman
asked me about
our equipment
i was explaining how
things come apart
and almost mentioned your name
it made me think
of how you used to say
things like "what would you do
if i showed up on your doorstep
one day?" now, i haunt
the windows in my house
i don't leave for weeks at a time
i sit on the porch like the dog
you didn't shoot behind the shed
the one that refuses to die
until you come home again
i told somebody once, that
you didn't even know
what my voicemail sounded like
i wonder if they thought
it was because you
are so important that i never
let it ring that many times
before picking up
or if you dont know
what it sounds like
because you've never called
you can't be the ****** weapon
and the search party
i'm tired of all the seats
to the ferris wheel in my chest
being empty
tired of your voice
being the one i look for
in abandoned places
that one sound i beg
to bounce back
down vacant hallways
i just seem to stand there
in all of that quiet
like someone looking for a mistake
on an eviction notice
so i guess the hardest part
isn't letting go
it's forgetting
you ever had a grip
in the first place
and since you've been gone
i wonder if when
you pushed yourself away from me
you used your left hand
so it felt like someone else did it

Artists.
Praised by lovers
Adored by dreamers
But also victims of the ridicule of over-achievers

I've dipped my toe in both waters
I've seen the world learn how to swim
While artists took a dive in the ocean
I've heard the world practice its symphonies for ages
While artists created their own

For the artist doesn't aim for perfection
It aims for satisfaction

Do not be fooled by the artist who fills galleries with red roses
For those thorns have endlessly scorched the walls of his soul
Do not be fooled by the artist who's arms stretch to the sky
For those muscles have been the victim of life's cruel judgement
Do not be fooled by an artist's kind words
For they have learned how to make lies sound like love

Do not be fooled by an artist's fears
For they've discovered the ocean
In hopes of loosing the sea

You'll fight and you'll argue
You'll scream and you'll yell

You'll smoke because you're mad
You'll cut because you're numb

He'll block you out of his life
Only to keep you safe

He'll be thinking of you every moment,
Knowing exactly where he was when you called.

He'll ignore your call because he's got nothing to say,
Being ignored just isn't your style

You'll blow up his phone
Only because you care

No one is there for him so you try to be

He won't let you in,
He doesn't know how

It's just not his style,
But it's completely yours.

You can't wallow in your problems
Because then they become scars.

He can't speak right away because his thoughts become reckless.

You deal with him and he deals with you

You love each other deeply but it just might not be enough

You fight and you fight to stay together

The love and feelings are there
The passion is there
So what could be missing?

Why can't you make it work..

Don't you feel the hate
When you possess a smile so fake
Doesn't it hurt your face
To create a smile so fake
Does the pain get erased
When you possess a smile so fake
Doesn't it stretch your muscles the wrong way
To create a smile so fake
Is it happiness you create
When you smile so **** fake
Or is it calmness that you make
When you create a smile so *fake

You're so full
Of sweet sugary words
I am amazed
Your teeth
Haven't rotted away
But no they're just
As shiny and white
As they ever were
Good for you.