Nobody knows, nobody asks why,
My body’s a temple devoted to eyes.
Within and without me, they gather all sights,
No secret forbidden, I bask in their light.

Eyeless scarred zealots cry out my true name,
Lost in an instant, devoured by flames.
Their ashes swirl round me, like snow on the breeze,
I lay bare their sins, and set their souls free.

One man lingers on, though charred beyond rescue,
Raving lunatic prayers, he screams “I condemn you
To sightless despair for eons to come!”
And with this foul curse, at last he succumbs.

With a scoff of dismissal, the heavens alight,
And scorch every eyeball, banishing sight.

Ballyhoo, humdinger, funky macaroni,
Nibble frozen kerosene with my cousin Ptoneigh.
Herd of camels stampeding through the needles eye,
Masquerading as the clergy, no one knowing why.

Filling pages every day with random bits of knowledge,
Been treading water every day since graduating college.
I’m no adult, but not a boy, stuck somewhere in between,
Development, for years arrested, since I was a teen.

Staring through the windshield, blindly contemplating space,
Laughing/Crying Hoping/Fearing for the human race.
Criminals in tailored suits, dementia plotting wars,
When the conmen call the nukes, I hope I have clean drawers.

Bury me face down cuz I can’t bear to the see the rest.
Flabbergasted daily at humanities arrest.

Our time limit is uncertain, but the time is certainly limited.

Chocolate, bear claw, Bavarian cream,
Am I really here or is this a dream?
I can smell coffee and fresh baked goods,
Swaying in line where so many have stood.

The lights are too bright, they’re hurting my head,
Can someone just give me some jelly filled bread?
And three apple fritters, a cruller or two,
At this point, any old fry cake will do.

Rev up those fryers and ready the glaze,
As I’m very drunk, and just as amazed
At the flavor they pack into frosting and dough,
Now stand the hell back and watch my bill grow.

Dozens or hundreds, I can’t get enough
Of these twists so sublime, ah, that’s the stuff.
The driver is ready, it’s my time to go,
I think I’ll just grab a half dozen or so.

We get in the car and start to head home,
What’s this in the bag? A bagel!? God, no!

Rubber chicken bubble bath,
greasy chicken nugget,
Never learned a lick of math
How many in this bucket?

Counting on my hands and feet,
Spilling sweet and sour,
Wolfing down this deep fried meat
By dozens every hour.

Teriyaki, honey mustard, Barbecue, Atomic,
Churning in this raging pit of lava once a stomach.
Though many hours pass, a fire immolates my mouth,
Then I feel the terror of what waits for me down south.

My body is a war zone, a broken ruin burning,
Though I may never eat again, I’m bad at lesson learning.
For if I ever do, I will forget this day,
Once more my organs pay the price, the spice will have its way.

Broken down, discarded dreams,
Slipping through these splitting seams,
Seems to me these eyes can't see
A way to flee this one note scene.

Discordant dissonance of hate,
The fear and pain it propagates,
Weeping mothers, bleeding sons,
A war is waged that can't be won.

Another day, another shooting,
Another factory polluting
Drinking water, poisoned crops,
White collar crimes, when will they stop?

The future never looked so bleak,
Each suture we possess is meek.
But humankind will persevere,
And filter blackened waters clear.

In the stillness of the night, my hands ache to take yours in mine, tracing lines on your palms, facing each other, in lasting calm.

I yearn for the hair that shines so bright, burns like the sun I crave in sightless dark. I run to my dreams to feel your hair, falling around my face as I play the part of your pillow.

My skin, on fire with the desire of pressing against you, caressing your back and arms. Keeping you safe from harm, no alarm creeping towards the breaking dawn.

My eyes long to fall on perfect features in the fading light, the prettiest of all Gods creatures. Locking mine with emerald pools of passion, a lasting gaze to amaze my fasting soul.

Eager for your love to fill my bowl, knowing, as the wind is blowing beyond my windowsill, thirst is a distant, fading curse.

Our hearts intertwine above the sea, parting waves to save romance, so free. No love compares to the one we share, as we celebrate our eternal dance.

You're a breath of fresh air in a world of smokestack trees.

One bullet. One bullet is all it would take to drain away all of the disillusionment and dishonesty, all the tears and silent screams in the middle of the night when I can't see any reason to stick around, when all I want to do is set myself on fire and throw myself off the roof, for no other reason than to actually ****** feel something before I go. But I can't. The recurring thoughts of sweet release are always soured by thoughts of the aftermath. My parents. They would never recover. They'd spent the rest of what they don't even feel like you could call a "life" wondering where they went wrong, why I didn't come to them, why they weren't able to help me. Why their baby is dead. The image of my parents weeping over my brutally disfigured corpse is something I've never seen, but it haunts my ******* dreams every night when I close my eyes. ******* it mom and dad, why the **** do you have to care about me so much. I love you two, so ******* much. It may seem like an end to the pain for us, but for parents, it's the end of their lives.

It's over, I'm finished, deaths already won,
Used only my thoughts, had no need for guns.
The body still walks and the mouth still smiles,
But behind these dulled eyes lies a blank, lifeless isle.

My death will be a masterpiece,
Inglorious design,
Tear away the hope for peace,
The loss of all that's mine.

Dying love in a gilded cage,
Imprisoned by my pent up rage.
You never loved me, but neither did I,
The last gift you gave was the gift of goodbye.

My heart is a plaything
On a length of tattered string,
Batted at by paws
With unrestrained claws.

The body's still breathing, but I'm not quite alive,
A soul in standby, simply trying to survive.

This can't keep going.
The tears won't stop flowing.
The self-loathing is growing.
The façade has slipped, and the real me is showing.

I can't remember what time feels like,
Or how to form a genuine smile.
I've forgotten the sound of my heart hammering in my ears,
And the sensation of touch is a beautiful memory.
Gutted. Numb. Hollow. Lost.

The body stands as tall as a tree,
As the soul inside of it falls to its knees.

Opia. Noun. The ambiguous intensity of looking into someone's eyes, which can fell simultaneously invasive and vulnerable.

As you lie in my arms, watching the television, you don't notice that my undivided attention is focused on you. Something I've been dreaming of for weeks, and it's finally come true. Even better, from your angle, you can't see me staring into your eyes, so I don't feel the nervous compulsion to turn away. Whether directly or not, I could drink in your eyes with mine, for hours, and they would be among the best hours of my life.
Then there's the other hand, held tightly by trepidation. I love the prospect of your eyes staring into mine, but it's not without its fears. I'm afraid you'll see all the pain and fears that I've spent the past seven years working to overcome. I'm afraid you'll see all the insecurity and doubts I have about myself. I'm afraid you'll see all the words that I long to whisper in your ear, but can't, because I'm terrified of scaring you away. I'm afraid you won't like the fact that, behind these eyes lies only pictures and thoughts of you. But most of all, I'm afraid that, unlike me, who loves every detail, and lives for moments like these, you won't love the things you see. I long for the day when you stare happily into my eyes, but I'm frightened that you won't enjoy the secrets they reveal.

History's greatest artists would fail to do your frame justice. Their fingers would fumble clumsily, brushes and pens flustered by the impossible request of copying a face which would shame Aphrodite into seclusion.
Those with mastery of the worlds languages couldn't hope to come close to capturing the magnificence and depth of a soul that burns brighter than our sun, papers crumpled in frustration from futile attempts at capturing a shooting star in a mason jar.
Virtuosic musicians can't comprehend melodies which could equal your soothing atmosphere or complex structure. Theorists would spend eons attempting to find an ordering of notes which could sing harmonies fitting the one that pours from your eyes, each one being broken by the realization that no such string exists, that they have attempted to match the glory of a choir of angels, and that God has found them unworthy.
Reality is ripping at the seams in its vain efforts to make room for an immaculate Phoenix which can not be tamed, corralled, or controlled by a physical world, not when its immortal splendor transcends description or dimension. Moments feel like eternity when blessed with the presence of one who's life illuminates nights which previously contained impenetrable darkness, thick as ink and as all consuming as the fires which now burn so brilliantly and with such calming warmth.
A priceless work of art, surpassing the limits of what can perceived with eyes or ears, and must be experienced by the heart, felt by the soul, and loved by the whole of my being. A greater masterpiece has never been born, and can never be duplicated, for she is the universes greatest achievement, and only a fool could think to improve upon perfection.

Only once has love ever opened my wrist,
Twice more with a rope, my neck has been kissed.
Three panic attacks on the floor of the shower,
Six nights have I wished to see my last hour.

Your smile was a blessing when my heart felt ****** to wandering a barren, pathetic wasteland.
Your arms were a safety net for a soul stuck in free fall for longer than it can remember.
Your eyes were warm fountains of water for muscles that were torn and sore from years of fighting losing battles.
Your heartbeat was a meditative drum that could calm me when nothing seemed to matter anymore.
You're my sun, my moon, and the air around me, and I promise that even if you aren't mine, my heart will always be yours.

I'm too drunk to think,
Still sober enough to feel.
No heart left to steal.

Head fractured in two,
The juices taste ripe and sweet.
Heart sour and stale.

Delete every trace,
Disguise the lingering numb,
Retreat from the race.

Stressed out, ****** up, broken, and tired,
All thoughts of happiness long since expired.
Words are the only things keeping me sane,
In the same breath, praising/cursing my brain.

Turn up the silence and block out the sun,
Alone in my room, a bottle and a gun.
It goes click twice, I'll see another day,
Tears start to fall, can't carry on this way.

Beauty and despair hold my hand in theirs,
Hopelessly departed beating hearts without repair.
Repeating words bleeding from your mouth into my soul,
Lie awake at night entreating all the things that keep me whole
To please just stay a while longer while weeping out the words
That keep my body stitched together from the curses and the slurs.
Broken down in tears from all the fears of passing years,
Constantly approaching a future that seems unclear.
But I keep myself intact because, in fact, I'm doing well,
Beauty beats despair, carries my mind out of its hell
On white wings, the choir sings, "it's you and we together,"
Beating back the blackest nights, always and forever.

Greetings HelloPoetry community! Since arriving here, I've found a home I could have never imagined, and a support for my work that fills my heart with more joy than I can begin to express to you. I would like to offer a sincere thank you to all of my supporters, and anyone who has taken the time to peruse my work. Now, I must ask you all for one more favor. As a result of my exposure on this site, I was discovered by a publishing company, and have been included in a compilation of nine previously unpublished authors titled Cry Love (http://www.amazon.com/Cry-Love-More-Voices-Verse/dp/0692392408/ref=sr11?ie=UTF8&qid;=1432052822&sr;=8-1&keywords;=andrew+Switzer). The book costs a mere ten dollars, and all of the proceeds go towards ensuring that we continue to find a venue for our linguistic gymnastics. Now, I'm not unreasonable. Anyone who purchases a copy, and spreads the word to their friends, family, and colleagues, will not go unrewarded. For what it is worth, I will help to spread the word of your works, and ensure that you gain exposure with my circle of friends and family, at the very least, in the hopes that you may one day be able to be published as well. This is a dream come true for me, and it would make it all the better if you would be able to purchase one copy, in support of the arts and the continued love for the manipulation of the English language. Thank you in advance to all who may purchase one, and best wishes to all!

Raucous laughter and clinking glasses fill the air, already brimming with the intoxicating scents of ocean air and freshly grilled salmon.
Crab legs crack, revealing succulent white meat and dripping juices down sun burnt chins and salt licked chests.
Seven men, all eating their weight in seafood, happy for the simple joy of being reunited once more.
Margarita, tequila, Corona and more,
I've never felt better, passed out on the floor.

Chasing after women who can't or won't appreciate
The things I say and do,
I sit alone, deteriorate,
Search for someone new.

Over the first half of this dreadful decade, I've been played by women quicker than I can drain the comparable bottles of liquor.
******, fed, and left to fend off a debilitating mental disease dubbed depression, all alone, once again.
So I wander cracked sidewalks and pockmarked streets, in a vain search for meaning, or even something as simple as companionship.
But to no avail, I trudge back home, head swimming, body lost to the waves, another failed attempt at soothing my emotional hangover.

Naked and broken, half dead on the ground,
Screams pouring out but I can't hear a sound.
You held my heart and then ripped it in two,
I'm shackled and bound, still bleeding for you.

You said you were fine.
The stains on the carpet,
You said you spilled wine.

She lived alone on a plastic hill,
She sold her soul for a bouquet of pills,
I held her close, and felt her fire die.

The room turned red, and began to burn,
You drowned me in the lessons I refused to learn.
Now I trudge back home, feeling dead inside.

A tortured soul on the edge of death,
I broke the surface for a final breath,
And lifeless eyes caught a starless sky.

I heard your voice whisper in my ear,
"Don't drown your love in a sea of fear.
Though my body fades, I'm always by your side."

Lovey Dovey had no say,
Lovey Dovey fade away.
Lovey Dovey turning gray,
Lovey Dovey died today.

The stars in the sky have nothing on the ones in your eyes.
As I watch the crimson flow corrupt the freshly fallen snow,
I feel you against me, as the bitter winds blow us about.
I knew then, that only you could stop me, and help me come alive.

You are the exact opposite of nothing. You are the scalding cup of coffee that screams at the frozen February sky. You are the meteor that must perform a show for thousands of people, gazing blindly past you. You are the toy broken by careless hands, but repaired by a master craftsman, made even stronger than before. You are the exactly perfect diamond, in the exactly perfect cut, in the exactly perfect price range. You are a God ****** tornado, lost in chaotic splendor. You are the crushing wave that left mayhem and panic in your wake. You are the most ******* amazing catastrophe I have ever seen, and so help me ******* God, I will not let the world lose you.

I knew you would forget, just as soon as the sun would rise,
But your words, cliché and hollow, came as no surprise.
I asked but one small favor, at both break and close of day,
Just to hear you say hello, but now, hope's bled away.

I came on too strong,
and I rubbed your soul wrong.
Now I'm strung along
by a silent, unloved song.

Fireflies dart through the darkness above us, while I run my fingers through your hair. Shuttered lids belie the most beguiling and comforting icicled eyes.
Spellbound by a soul so much like mine, I suffer when deprived of your soothing glow, the calming touch you provide, even while pinching or prodding to provoke a response.
Between the darkness and the light, you creep into my dreams, aiding me in my conquests as my ally. My muse. My ******.

I'll bend over backwards till head touches heel,
If you'll be my back brace when finally healed.

I lie awake in bed, too numb to feel my own heartbeat.
Underneath these calm features lies a panic stricken freak,
Broken beyond repair, paranoid of the air around him.
Dead eyed and drowning, without the hope or the will to swim.
Swallowed whole by the darkness surrounding the thoughts in his head,
Survivors Remorse, when he lives, but better people are dead.

When I stand by your side, my skin can melt steel,
When I hear you heart singing, mine starts to heal.
When I look in your eyes, I see the beauty of stars,
Whenever you cry, I wish I bore your scars.

Hazel eyes hold untold sorrow,
Dreams of sleep without tomorrow.
A hopeless mind without a future,
A soup bowl born of shattered pewter.
Hidden away in a heart of ice,
Reignited and snuffed out twice,
A junkyard soul devoid of joy,
Another woman's one night toy.

The window panes
Silence the rain
But cannot dull the thunder.

Trapped in a future I never desired,
The heartaches and pain trap me high in my spire
Of grief. Relief is a state which I've never attained,
Through the years and the tears, my mind lies twisted and maimed.
Unbroken and eternal, this chain of my failures
Will adorn my body; no temple, a trailer.

I'm never alone, but I always feel lonely,
Surrounded by sycophants and courted by cronies.
My only true value is that which I give
To myself, nobody's willing to just let me live.
Jumping through hoops made of fire and bone,
Searching for nought but a place to call home.

It would seem, that at some point, people got bored.
No longer do the masses beat down my door.
Though I love being lonesome, I long for companions
To keep up my spirits and never abandon-
A knock on the door! My breathing grows quicker.
Just UPS. A package delivered

Bare feet work the pedals as I cruise down broad street.
The papers vapors flutter through the window, the breeze feels so sweet
as it passes through my hair, without direction or a care.
So much like me.
I wish I could be.
Me when I was you and you were we, and we would kiss beneath the trees.
But now that's gone.
And so are you.
You left me here, now I'm all alone, and there's no sign pointing me back home.

What's a writer own when his mind has turned to waste?
Without the means to mesmerize, we have no spice, no taste.
The elevator's missing and I've fallen down the shaft,
I've lost my life preserver, I ride a leaky raft.
My tongue is twisted, inside out, reversed, and upside down,
I lack the life to give to words, behind these eyes, I've drowned.