My shell is peeling
making me feel exposed
naked
all because
I am opening
like a rose
but afraid
its petals will fall too soon
to the harsh conditions
of this world
With icy apathy
neurotic neglect
and scorching storm
crashing against
the rock hard surface
of my own creation
cracking
yet unwavering
far longer
than it should have
but with it
evolution
ready to share
part of me
with the world
like a dead dandelion
scattering its seeds with the wind

On the desk, there lies a fountain pen
It doesn't take cartridges
Rather, you dip it in ink and press it to paper
It makes a sound, not unlike fingernails on a chalkboard
But not like it either - it's satisfying instead of goosebump-inducing
Slowly scratching the page until it's gone
The ink has bled onto page 3
I've pressed too hard
But this paper is thick
Previous poets pondered profusely
Pretending this pen was a pipe
Holding it between their teeth until an idea came ripe
This pen holds a history of poetry
Of spilling thoughts that otherwise stayed internalized
And of sometimes spilling ink
It gets everywhere
I love it

You didn't read anything
You just skimmed the surface
Yes, you were throwing rocks
- that only -
You deemed worthless.
Well, you might've already heard this
but they just could have been repurposed, to persons,
new versions, for virgins - you've never met
call it perverted nerves but I'm sure it's perfect
the weight of the cards, I'm dealt
I even prefer it - for it's
making my opponent sweat
there's no better feeling felt
no taller ceiling shelved
I melt, getting this high.
I'm helpless, alone in this sky.

I'm uploading
another
hip hop instrumental
right now.
Twitter
or Soundcloud works.
Thank you.

there is enough treachery, hatred violence absurdity in the average
human being to supply any given army on any given day

and the best at ****** are those who preach against it
and the best at hate are those who preach love
and the best at war finally are those who preach peace

those who preach god, need god
those who preach peace do not have peace
those who preach peace do not have love

beware the preachers
beware the knowers
beware those who are always reading books
beware those who either detest poverty
or are proud of it
beware those quick to praise
for they need praise in return
beware those who are quick to censor
they are afraid of what they do not know
beware those who seek constant crowds for
they are nothing alone
beware the average man the average woman
beware their love, their love is average
seeks average

but there is genius in their hatred
there is enough genius in their hatred to **** you
to **** anybody
not wanting solitude
not understanding solitude
they will attempt to destroy anything
that differs from their own
not being able to create art
they will not understand art
they will consider their failure as creators
only as a failure of the world
not being able to love fully
they will believe your love incomplete
and then they will hate you
and their hatred will be perfect

like a shining diamond
like a knife
like a mountain
like a tiger
like hemlock

their finest art

what's a life lesson without a
good kick in the crotch?

in my finest hour
the design was sour
as we prayed for lights crisp
we gave away days lifeless -
And open windows
but not a breath of a breeze
it's like everything that's left
is nothing but a tease, please
don't give away your soul or
at least earn a profit before you let go
of insight and charm
because it will become night
before she calms
the clock
the clouds
spinning across a violet skylit
by violent sirens - that watch.
Wake up.