The joy and happiness
Of my life are now gone
And yet, and yet, I'm scared.

I'm not ready to go
But I am already
Floating above this world.

I do not see angels
Nor bright eternal light
Nor Saint Peter's pearl gates,

I do not see darkness,
Nor the hot flames of Hell,
Nor the black river Stix.

I simply feel nothing.
My panic is smothered
By oppressive silence.

But this is not the way
I want to leave this earth;
Not feeling, not living.

I want to dance again,
I want to feel summer,
I want to laugh and sing.

But life is not perfect
And not all of us get
What we want in the end.

I will be your rock,
when you feel there is no one left,
stand on me and I will give you stability.

Let me hold you and block out the world,
let me mend your wounds,
and love your scars.

As long as you let me I will always be there for you,
do not try push me away,
I will not go.

You simply need to take my hand,
reach out,
I will always be by your side.

I will not forsake you,
I will not forget you,
and I will always love you.

I can no promise that I will be perfect,
that we will always be happy,
or that I will not have my faults.

But I swear to you,
I will never give up on you,
just please try to remember,
how much you mean to me.

Staring at empty screens and pages,
I must have read this ******* sentence through multiple ages,
but my mind drifts away,
they used to call me Holden,
I dont have half a head of grey hair I would say,
jumbled in my jaw,
and feeling bare and raw,
I need to do something aboot this,
but why cant I just attain a certain degree of bliss?
Is it because I want my life to be a sad poem,
at least that's what she said on the phone,
maybe she was right?
I'm in love with being a tragedy at the end of the night,
need a reason to be in my room,
to shake this feeling I might have till I am dead,
then I noticed,
I forgot to make my bed.

I first met God when from me he bummed a cigarette,
I asked him how I can win this bet,
and to let go of her and be ok,
he asked which girl with a smile in a way,
I said all of them because I just want to hear all of them say,
you were alright,
he took a drag and said we had met before,
when I was again in Florida I was feeling this down and poor,
we had a drink,
you asked what this life was all about,
and with a smile with shades of a pout,
I told you that only you could figure that out,
his cigarette was done and so was mine,
I asked again if this was just a waiting line,
or just a road covered with dust,
he flicked it and said that I always will have my lust,
for the future,
for the present,
for the past,
and I may feel like in the line I am last,
but really there is no line or road,
and this isnt a secret code,
he said I was ok,
then asked for another cigarette.

I love you,
I love you,
I love you.

You never gave me reason to doubt these words,
but what reason have to given me to believe them?

When I wait around all day to hear from you,
clear the day for our date,
though a time is never set,
if it ever comes.

When I do not feel like a priority,
or even a thought.

When you have plenty of time for your friends,
but never for me.

When you are only around me,
when it is convenient for you.

What meaning do your words hold?

I love you,
I love you,
I love you.

It echoes in my head,
three little words that keep me coming back.

I do not understand why you do this,
or if you even know what you are doing.

I love you.

I feel my heart skip a beat every time I see you,
my love for you pores out of me,
it fills me up.

I love you.

When you do not answer,
when you keep me waiting,
guessing,
I feel as if your love for me has dried up.

I love you.

And if you ever read this,
I worry more about it hurting you,
then about it helping me.

I love you.

Even when you do not answer me for hours,
I smile when I finally see you have.

I love you.

I say it over and over hoping it will sting lessen every time,
but I can not deny that I do not always feel your love.

I have seen a new side of you and I do not think I like it,
we should have never brought this here,
we should have stayed just friends,
but even still the pain you bring to my heart,
pails in comparison,
to the joy you bring,
when you mend it.

I love you

row this boat, let us;
in this boat we are
given a respite, calm waters
and smooth passage, at least the while

and so let us row the boat past the fingers of land
past the trees and receding assurances
and the enveloping air like an imperceptible menace
and Mt Fuji like a blessing, but the inscrutable skies all round -
who knows how long a friend, a comfort?
row this boat then, only our skills are certain
only our intended destination
(for even the benign presence we know is fickle)
and who is to know if we may even reach land?
all destiny is in the hands of the waves;
we are but driftwood, we are…enjoy the rhythm
and when it’s wild, enjoy the thrill of the ride

we are all plagued by the same
haunting disease.
every step on this wearied road
is just a step in our prison.
esoteric dreams of unchanging bliss
are humanity's liturgy.
the only steadfast thing in
this oxymoronic world is
dissatisfaction.
we are foundering in it,
wishing to drown already.
the romantics looked
to love,
now we look
to apathy;
but this prison
has no escape,
except death.
so we fell in
love
with the grim,
when fantasy
failed us.
now we sit here,
entranced with the mud but
dreaming of beaches.
meaningless,
meaningless,
meaningless.
we are the living dead.