nights like this are best wept clean.

To clean the slate of sadness
that seemed so irrevocably joyful
after its wash.

but nights like these I longed for the
storm to arrive.
Only to welcome eyes too dry.

I don't wish for sadness.
I do not wish for hurt.
I wish for tears that cleanse my soul.
I wish for tears that clean it, deep.

nights like these are best wept clean.

there's ice on the windshield,
overlapping, mirroring itself in an array like scales.

i scrape and scrape and scrape;
the ice would still remain.

it distorts.
hazards look like brakelights.
"Is something wrong?"
pedestrians resemble road signs.
"To where are you guiding me?"
road markings... nothing.
"Have I gone too far?"

i dare not try to change lanes
for fear of crashing
and bursting into a crowd of yellow and red octopuses that hug like a bloom.

but the warmth wouldn't reach me.
it wouldn't even melt the ice.
if the fire were on the inside,
the ice would still remain,
sealing me inside,
keeping me inside,
keeping me safe,
keeping the world safe...

i can't find my way.

plumped down in the shrieking worn chair
pulled my hunk of life-****
  out of my pocket
brewed up a ****** poem with my thumbs

i've traded informative book reading for
  'dank memes'

i need to get lost in a dank library for a
  while
away from all the life-****

i've come to learn
that they
become numb to
my cries
so often that they've
become deaf to
my whimpers

and i've
become hoarse from
my shouts
so often that i
become mute from
my whispers

after all
what can they do
to help
after
they've tried ev'rything?

after all
what can i do
to tell
after
i've tried ev'rything?

try some more

try.

I peeled off her clothes like
the wrapper of a 100 Grand Bar
after a paleo diet
but still with the
tenderness
of critiquing a friend's
favorite song.

They floated to the floor like a
lost slip of paper
you wrote a phone number on

impacting with grace
inaudible over my
7-A.M.-residential-construction hammering heart.

Her figure was statuesque
in its rare elements of beauty,
and she felt right on my tongue
like the first time I tasted authentic
vanilla ice cream.

But she'd prefer gilato
and I'll have whatever she's having
so I hope I'm having nothing.

I kissed her, my hair in our eyes.
I pulled back, mystified.
She made me feel poetry.
And her skin was poetry,
delicate and savory.
I was so inspired that
I couldn't find the words.
"Seeing that she's nearly a stranger,"
I thought,
"I'll have to show her later."

Her beach sand is sprinkled with fine sea shells.
I'll spend the evenings studying them all.

And I am a boy
who has never seen the ocean -
the vastness in her eyes that I
would love to get lost in.

pour your heart out
like the last 'fifth'
you've had too much
where's home from this?

Surreal like memories
concealed in melodies
playing and playing
running circles in my head.

Enamored for centuries
and armored for plenty pleas
fighting and fighting
wishing, flipping coins for death.

i live for this moment
this
melting together of souls
that feels
how white noise sounds

we can cast our thoughts and feelings
into this ocean with ease

infinity is so serene

the undefined has no end.

Kind'ling, eternal comfort
eloped to my beat.
In hers I found my rhythm.

It will run its course
clean, free of remorse
outlasting and unforgiving
but I will be the last one living.

For some, smoke screens.
Others see their reflections,
brush their finger tips through the rubble,
make friends with the debris.
Calloused palms hold broken glass,
washing cuts with poison.

In ashes their hearts lye.

she was broken
like sunlight french-kissing water,
refracting and reflecting
into dozens of colors
shades of blue and red and yellow
not everyone could see
or appreciate

without light,
a diamond is just another rock

you were never mine.
you will never be mine
you will always be yours

maybe one day
I'll be lucky enough
to be "mine"
lying next to you while
you're being "yours"

a celestial calm
entwined with
daylight veins
of
madness
sitting silently
no occupation
but to
wind and wind
my
clockwork motor
madness
just to grin stupidly
as it
waddles
'round the room.

spider
crawled out from under that
cinder block
thought all was
safe
in the shadows

another shadow came
soon
all was dark

It is early in the morning.
The sun is turning the curtains that ugly, ***** hue.

I have not slept well in weeks.
My *** drive is dwindling.
*** walk.

I am beginning to wonder if anyone ever loved me,
running my tongue over a mouth sore.

I must be tired.

a hue deepening from the baby blue
of the desperate sky to the midnight
blue of the harrowing ocean floor

i had forgotten what it felt like
to sink into the opaque depths
of despair and drown as my deep
sea monsters watched and laughed

even with my feet touching the
ocean's core, i still can't tell
which way is up

you embrace
be it hands, arms, bodies
you say, "see you soon"
with such faith

you part ways
your relationship pauses
the rest of the world winds

i didn't know i would be
seeing you
for the last time.

I sparked a cigarette and painted my faults with gasoline.
I steadied my limbs and summoned the guillotine.
Never had I pondered that love was so subtle.
Never had I wandered so far from rebuttal.
It's funny how feelings themselves whimper when they're so animated.
Had I known any better I would have stayed for sedation.
Tell me something that echoes so profound.
Tell me something that forever makes a sound.

a second light comes crawling
this time through the window,
reminding me I survived
another night wading
through the fiery lakes of hell,
naked as my soul on a cool night with a new love.

everything else is so easy.
it's all relative, isn't it?
and this is my reference point,
my floor.

i can't recall your portrait
but i'll never forget the feelings you inspired

my tornado shelter in the middle of the storm,
keeping me grounded while the sirens scream

my daily PRN for a diagnosis of loneliness,
easing the pressure of life's trials,
bubble-wrapping my heart and mind

my extra blanket in the depth of winter,
giving me warmth when the furnace died...

... died like our love did

all feels like death
except...
drugs and *** feel like dying

I wanted a broken heart
Because many hearts were broken
And to be like many was "to be like..." -
Relating was a cosy thought

It was like that cool dime-sized scar on your elbow that you could show your friends to brag about your adventure
But instead of a healing arm you have a philosophy that needs to heal
This knotted idea, constructs tangled like a pair of earbud headphones you left in that near-useless right front 'pocketception'
And it will require patience
Patience and nimble fingers
That will someday hopefully be used to pluck a guitar to the soundtrack of your soul

I wanted to cut my heart
So I could craft it into a diamond
Refracting all the shades of pain the world has to offer, all the hues of hurt
Shades and hues that paint a portrait of my experiences
Sad indigos, angry crimsons, ***** onyx

I wanted jagged edges
That resembled a ninja star
That had been thrown in a wood chipper
Whose cuts were familiar to many
Whose veins were identical to none
I'd like to think the same pain flows through my veins
As that that flows through someone's

we both see red,
but my red isn't your red,
and the doctors tell me there is no "red" at all.

i'm counting the days.
my numbers make them numbered,
and i'm just growing number.

i'm calling on the angels
to have faith in something more than memories.
suffering from loss because i remember "me"

the end isn't far.
i can't tell "end" from "END",
but right now i would settle for either.

Prayers balance my regrets
All I've forgiven
I've not done yet

Tomorrow looms
Its shadow casts a spell
Where it leads I cannot tell

Love is change
Change is to be lost
Adventure comes with a cost

i've tried
to find
the light
flick'ring
it leads
again
nowhere
wond'ring
where does
this end
do i
create
the end
the search
to be
happy
is so
pointless
to me
because
it fades
to coal
we work
for cash
to pay
bills and
take pills
matter
is all
that does
matter
but to
me it
doesn't
matter
at all
i have
no faith
in gods
or gems
no joy
in tales
or hymns
there is
no love
to be
felt here
like a
dog I
only
see in
shades of
grey now
no high
is worth
the climb
no words
are worth
the rhyme
i will
soon be
saying
goodbye
for the
last time

wait for the best day.

the best day
to
**** yourself
is
your birthday
because your
loved ones
will only be forced to think about
your suicide
once per year

(your birthday comes.

you eat cake and smile.
you drink, dance, and forget you're suicidal.
you wake up the next morning
back in the suicidal mindset
but knowing you have to wait
364 days.

you wait 364 days.)

repeat until death by natural causes

Some have asked
Will you ever stop writing
I tell them
I will stop writing
When I have captured her
In words
Imagery
Similes
Magic threes

I will stop writing
When I have captured her
In the perfect poem

melting, as all the parts of me
that make me human
die a slow and torturous death.
"no one is coming to save me."
and somehow,
that has to be okay.

wind, water, and rhyme
brushed away the sands of time
like golden hair - fine
out of a lover's blue eyes

revealing glimpses
into the past
little chocolate heart-sized samples of a
lost civilization swallowed like pride

wonder struck and sowed a seed of curiosity
like one who just discovered knowledge
and the depth of its beauty
desiring to seek that forbidden fruit
knowing well what trap lies there

its beauty, divine and sparkling
a silver crown encrusted with sapphires
that begs one to look further
dig for all the treasure beneath

its beauty: but also worn and dull
like an over-washed, one-size-too-large t-shirt
not highlighting assets
instead drowning them in an ocean of grey

its beauty: where sweetness raffles
like eating trail mix
and its bitterness is cold, black coffee
some crowns are stained with impatience

brush a little more delicately
around the fragile artifacts
never digging too deep
for fear of fumbling it all

uncov'ring these time capsules
conditioned as they were
preserved by memory lapses
laps in a labyrinth

why do we seek
buried, ancient artifacts
instead of building new ones
with the plant that knowledge became?

why do we bury deep
our prized possessions
like a dog buries a bone?
- to dig them up later

I rinse the cups
In case
They're lined
With poison

But I pop the vitamins
And leave my supplements
Under the drug cabinet
When my ambition is suitable

The tap water tastes funny
And the food never goes down
Quite right

My sleep is like my relationships:
Seldom deep and only existent
Because of normalcy

Judge my facade
Acting is easy
Madness is difficult though honest
I am simply mad.

Home was wherever you were
Now home lies on treasure maps
"Ex" marks the spot
So I travel and I dig
but all I dig up is rot
Home is still a treasure
I've just lost the key

Walls.
Someone or something hurts, and then walls.
Everywhere.
But
So towers tall the ground around you
When
You're at the bottom of a hole.
Heaving
Higher or digging depths, it's all the same.
Unless
You build beneath you.

The day has come where I am no longer
looking back at the sunsets behind me,
but to sunrises beyond, in wonder.
A smile ruptures across my face
like pavement fracturing from an earthquake,
and a hearty laugh bursts from my depths
with the pent-up force of a geyser.

And my world is shaken like a snow globe,
redistributing the beauty all around.
Sometimes falling can be delightful  -
like watching a violet and amber dusk.
Beauty always lies in contrast: rise and fall.
The sunrise is where tomorrow holds my lust.

I wrote
Better poetry
When you were
Chewing on my heart
Like a dog chews a bone
Sharpening its teeth

we walk in darkness,
faintly but agile,
dodging puddles
and strangers
whose gaze is uncomfortable

we play games
with ourselves
that we just can't win.
we try to bend the rules
but instead just bend ourselves.

we lose ourselves in art:
the only thing that's real.
because the connections we make
are hurried and fake.
affection is *** appeal.

we inquire and murmur
hoping the other has an answer
to our questions of self doubt.
we jump off the bridges we build,
and hope they burn with our regrets.

we search for souls
replete with love,
knowing **** well
love is an empty concept
to all the broken people

unwritten novel in my mind
autobiography of my much-sought-after
deep slumber
the ****** mystery of my sense of
purpose
and not a pen in sight

i am my father's lost cause

to lose something one must first be in possession of it

to possess something one must be able to afford it

how can one afford what one does not know the value of?

how can one afford someone whose values they do not know?

pick me apart
like one of your spongy, sparkly, buds
put me out
like a cigarette in your
ash tray soul
stir with me your second favorite poison
Regret me the day after
And swear this swine you'll quit
The next Monday you remember

it doesn't matter the quality of the day
letting it fade out was one of my favorite past times
staying awake doing nothing
until your mind and body slipped into that foggy state
and it felt like seeing the world through
amber sunglasses

Relief is not
Too far from here
Tell me I'm not
Destined for years
Wasting my time
In all I've seen
Somehow losing sight
Of what strength means
The black 'mongst white
What must I give
To keep my might
So cheerful but grim

A guttural hatred
dwindles
dwells
digs further

i plucked the hair
but left the follicle,
sealed the surface
of a hollow, "Full."

i always move the ***
before it boils over
but i am not so sure
that i will keep my clover

perhaps it's not just luck
perhaps in fact it's skill
perhaps it's glass and rust
in the throne sits my will

our time traveling hearts
don't recognize the hours as they slip by us
like the wind while we hide in this
little home we built called "love"

Love, your friend forever,
- the sour patched kid

winters used to come and go
now all's draped in sheets of snow
trailing wherever the wind blows
clutching tight all of my woes
where's my way with most doors closed
trapped in a maze, seeing ghosts
phantom limbs and phantom whims
can't turn to books, songs, or hymns
switching to a diff'rent dose
hoping, to death, I come close
i can't ever tell friend from foe
guess I'll have to go alone

my mental stability is whitewater rafting.
drifting along this everlasting
river of de ja vu, my sanity
crashes against the rocks,
splashing in strings and fragments
that i once called thoughts.
this ****** little beige boat of mine
wasn't built for travel like this.

something's diff'rent today.
i think i've got it pinned -
sun is gone, clouds are gray -
but i'm shining deep within.

there's some Place special
that's on my mind.
my heart's at threshold.
my fears are blind.

a Place within You -
A Shelter From The World -
can That be my place, too?
i'd skelter in Your Heart unfurled.

my daydreaming has been awakened -
wond'ring and pond'ring like a child.
the range of topics - slowly baking.
my heart - a sponge in Your Fountain Of Youth, wild.

don't You know, Darling -
just what You've done for me?
from a past life, i'm parting.
You've filled my hopes with glee.

i see You everywhere,
except the place that i want most.
the spot next to me lies bare.
this cot is where We're meant to post.

i'll see You soon with tears of joy in my eyes.
We'll spark each other's grins.
Together, We'll battle the world in stride.
i'm ready to be in love again.

Hey, old friend.
I never thought we'd actually speak again...
All of our conversations abruptly ended
after a sentence or two...
Where have you been?
I've searched for you everywhere...
Low and high...
Especially high.
I never thought we'd meet again...
It's great to have you back, Me.
I'm glad we're back.

i sledded down the slippery *****.
i shedded downs and tripped through my nose.
i netted frowns and flipped them, they rose.
regretted grounds and clipped them, awoke.

and then...
i'm...

blue like the pills that make me
rise from the dead.
hues gripe the deals that break the
highs from the dread.
flew, kite, the wheels had staked my
mind from my bed

and then...
i...

crash and burn like the Challenger,
thrash and turn like a gallon churned,
cash out, earn spikes my melon's slurred,
past loud, learn rites, i'm felling words

and now...
why...?

over. the fog has cleared.
the sky still grey, revered.
my mind is frayed. in tears
i lie awake. the fears
return to stay. my gears
all turn, in play. the years
won't burn, they'll pave what's near
and earn the brave. i'm clear.
i'm... sober. saved.