If a poet ever tells you
Writing is easy
Writing is fun
If they say this to you
They are lying
Lying a ton
Being a poet
Isn't easy
This is hell
But writers have a place
To call home
To dwell
Where they live comfortably
Is a dark place
A dark cave
And the only ones who enter
Those who love
Those who are brave
Poets are deep creatures
Endless thoughts
Endless pain
If one lets you see inside
Don't injure
Don't be vain
Just quietly sit there
As their soul
Takes you as part
And absorb what you can
As their words
Come from the heart

The bathroom looks like a ****** scene
blood spotting the walls,
the floor,
the yellowing porcelain,
blood.

My brother calls me three times around midnight
I don't pick up
I'm off in la la land
chasing funny things
put to bed on the sofa
in my friends' dorm
too high to fall safely
drunk enough to take the risk

The bathroom is a ****** scene this morning
all of that blood once ran through veins
bringing oxygen to muscles and organs
keeping my brother ticking
and now it's turning the color of rust
on the bathroom floor

To think about you, i wont
mouth your name in my sleep, i won't
wake up wishing you were here, i won't
forget you, i will


Dreams are a ***** though,
memories too.
Love songs are beautiful,
Tulips too.

However Tulips wither and die the moment they bloom
my tulip only grows,even after the bloom
in any and every weather fault
and in any disaster, it never falls

Summer
Spring
Winter,
and then back to fall

to think about you, I did
mouthed your name over and over in my sleep,I do
wake up wishing you were here,every night
forget you, I tried.

All of the leaves
Change color in the Fall
There is so much individuality
Spread across the tree tops
But you are a flower
Slowly beginning to hide
And shelter yourself from the light
Winter will come
And your heart will grow cold
Stiff, numb, and wilted
One lonely lost soul.

The birds will fly
Towards a brighter, warm sky
Always chasing the sun
Never wanting to be stuck
In the dark place again

You are the sun
A devious God
Perceived as a wonderful
Beautiful sinless form
But you cause the shadows
You cause the dark

I am the moon
A hopeless light
Reaching out for a lost soul
Wandering around
Helpless and confused
The soul wept alone
Quietly and emptied her last breath.

sleep
just always
seemed further than
the pen and so
I learned to dream between
the lines of a bright white
page, in a darkened room
at quarter to four in the morning

Entering the void with rainy eyes induced by the manipulating agent who was undercover under her covers. And as the rush came this lush dame was soon abandon in the emptiness which were her hopes and dreams/ she could not cope but scream in the darkness that now became her home. She graps at truth but it eludes her, only the false promises that were pumped into her heart remain. They whisper to her constantly, spewing poison in a fading mind, eviserated spirit; body laying in twisted sheets staring at a pitch black celling that reminds her of the heart that was cruely tricked and abandoned longing for the simpler times, but is now choked by the thorns of lost love.  Faith fades, confusion takes hold of once unshakable consciencness of oneself, paradise is lost; a dystopia now surrounds a once blissful secure island of Elysian splendor. Left alone, scorned; this furious angel is being driven maddingly insane by the cold silence that has taken the place of a loving embrace. A million thoughts and questions flood her mind but only one replays itself, "why"? And each time a tiny piece of her heart falls into her hand and slips out of the cracks like grains of sand. But this once radiant muse that would make even the mighty aphrodite envious must pull herself together for the burning light of reality is shining through the darkness cutting through revealing the vacancy which she did not think was possible and face the truth that her thoughts were not her own, but a well contructed fairy tale told from the parasitic snake that fed off her passionate trusting heart. She cries for release to come soon, but alas a new day is steady approaching and now she must hide that pain with a untruthful smile to take attention from the empty void left in her chest; as for the rest? That is unknown......

Loved, loved, because of a face so lovely
A mysterious, charming of a girl … but who was she?
Lost, with doubt that never vanished, much to her dismay
Troubling her mind with such disarray
Surrounded her are eyes swimming with confusion
Who could help her ruin all the commotion?
Then came a beautiful boy filled with curiosity
Do you think he could give an end to her mixed misery?

*j.m