You sink, even with a life jacket on,
Crying is impossible, for you cannot feel,
Everything tastes the same,
Love becomes relegated to mythology,
Even your dog frowns when you're around,
Clarity is found through darkness,
You have accepted the fact that you will never be happy,
Yet you never lose hope, for you never had any.

decisions of consequence
matters of missed signs
crossed lines
beyond common sense
delve into the lost mind
one last time
find the insanity offence
a list of who lives and who dies
who deserves recompence
whos eyes get to view mine
in my definitive act of ultraviolence

Dear Father,

It is with an intoxicated, profound, and perhaps misled familial respect and gratitude
That I write you and I ask of you
That you assess your cavalier attitude
On your own life and widespread dissidence you feel
For when your recklessness kills you and I am to serve you leal
I would be disingenuous to gaze upon the eyes of all your peers
And not deliver an encomium weighted by your grievances and jeers
So if you must die, please give me explicit instruction that you have cured your lover's quarrel with life and it's inhabitants
If you cannot I will stress the points of your plight with an unrelenting adamance

I have the honor to be your obedient servant,
M. Whit

He loved her, but his love was forced to buzz beneath the surface, like a deep pain under an ******
The day it would be relevant seemed to drift beyond possibility, but he hoped for it
And some days he awoke to it,
bleeding
A ghastly wound, once healed then torn open,
dreaming

poetry
used to rush out of me
like raging angry tides
but now that
my demons are sleeping
i cannot seem to remember
how to write