Does a poem write itself?
Do they exist before created?
In essence, existing all around us
Absorbed into the psyche
Processed through the brain
Sent to a hand
Finished through the tip of a pen
Too then again
Be consumed by another human person
Producing a new translation
A different interpretation
But there's limits to randomization
Will we ever get to the point where every thought has been expressed?
Every possible sentence arrangement has been recorded and sent to the press?
Is there still the possibility that an original thought can be had?
It's a silly concept but maybe
One day writers block will be victorious
There's only so many different ways that these words can be organized into
Though, I can't imagine what that'll look like
When every thought has been thought through
When nothing's new
Will it still continue?

©2024

I'll be better here sometime right before never,
I swear
Not trying to be clever
I'm being sincere
Just can't assign a specific timeline to recover
I've tried it,
Found it only helped set up the next failure
The one that's already lurking around each and every corner
I stand defiant, against my own self preservation order,
Almost daring it to leap from the darkness a couple corners sooner
I'm not trying to be negative either
Life is an iffy endeavor
But I don't not get it,
I can see it from the view of the average observer
It's gotta look like a recipe for disaster
But it's better than what I see in the mirror
Something I won't need a memory to remember
Branding me with this, scared flesh on each wrist,
A gut wrenching reminder
The kind that can only linger forever
Stalking me from the edge of what I'll be able to remember
But it'll get better...
...they swear

©2024

Life can seem like a nightmare
I'm afraid of all of the time
I release my flair in the night air
Noticing all the fear is of the same kind
I more than recognize the familiar glare
The eyes looking back at me are mine
Aware that I'm unaware
Fair or not,
Witness my paradigm

©2024

My heart slips through it's ribbed cage
Falling under yet another set of feet
A familiar stage
A loop on repeat
The same dawn but a new age
Always ample cover-ups at the ready
Cautionary over reactionary
But underneath?
Every single forced receipt
Enraged I scramble to free it,
Ignorant of the gamble
Placed on a vague label
One that won't be held accountable
Broken in every way imaginable
Clearly fragile
Watch it unravel
No finesse
Rage and anger fills the absence
Losing the rhythm of life's presence
Leaving hand in hand with it's unique purpose
Taking notice that this will be the last defeat

©2024

Laying motionless on a riverbed,
Drowning at rock bottom constantly
I hate to admit it but
That's where you'll most commonly find me
No landmarks, no marked miles,
Got lost on the back roads to recovery
I finally pulled out of this nosedive of false certainty
Just to expectedly fall back into the same trajectory
Distractions follow closely,
Waiting to complicate the wrong actions I already make consistently
That's a disastrous recipe
That's what has made my present day a fraction of what I think it oughta be
This has to be far more than what I have coming to me
Like what I've repaid triggers karma's selective memory

©2024

Comedy and tragedy never seem to be distributed evenly
Not sure destiny would even recognize me
Nor I it honestly
But could it, would it, should it be able too avoid me deliberately?
Surely if I coulda, I woulda and probably shoulda taken it more seriously
I know this is my millionth apology,
That's not lost on me
I'm so sorry that I happen to be so sorry
If you could find it in your heart too forgive me
It'd be
Just another thing that I envy
Endlessly
For all of eternity

©2024

An organic cell
An inescapable cage
A personal hell
A shell of rampant rage

Under a digital spell
Center stage
A deadly swell
Safety not easy to gauge

How quickly the bar fell
A sageless age
Shhhh, don't tell
It's the same on every page

©2024