1 cup Misery
2 cups Heartache
2 1/2 tbsp Tears
3 tsp Death
4 cups Loss
A pinch of Hope
3 Kids (separated from me)
1/2 a Heart
1/4 cup Silence
6 cups Poetry
Whisk together for 5 minutes
Add 1 cup Solitude
Stir until well blended
Bake in a plastic bowl for 24 hours
Do not remove for 3 months
Throw remains in trash

Too many times
I've been pushed aside
     On the back burner
My whole **** life
         But I wanna be the fire
   That lights your soul
I want a raging, blazing
         Inferno
      Sparking flames
Making changes
        In the chemistry
   A little oxygen
       So I can breathe
A lot of hydrogen
     So you can believe
We're floating on air
        Particles you can't see
      Like love
It's a mystery
            A theory
   Of who's meant to be
And who's left suffering
         That's destiny
     I'm creating
Breaking
     Changing the flames
   Into ashes
And graves
      With no names
Just broken hearts
          On tombstones
     And no chance
*To restart

There's one question
In particular I despise:
What's new?

Because I am pressured
To explain how different
My life has become.

I rather not
Admit its bin has
Overflowed with
Redundant files.

  You will scowl when I say,
"For me, every day is a slight
Variation of what has preceded.
There's nothing new to mention."
A conversation repellent for sure.

(c) 2015 Brandon Antonio Smith

People may tell you to not cry...
I won't because I know the difference.
They think they know when in fact they lie...
I say bury yourself in the deepest of detriments.

They may say that a new day will come...
They only spout what they can't comprehend.
They forget that you are ailing from a broken heart and that you're not dumb.
There's only you in your space, alone you stand...

Textbook responses are all they can offer...
They know not that it'll only make things worse...
There can be no replies so nice and proper.
To rid you of your life, your plight, your curse.

They may even share personal events that they think familiar.
Thinking what worked for them may work for you.
But no two situations are the same, albeit looking quite similar.
At the end of the day, you only owe it to yourself to pull yourself through.

I say feed your pain, grieve hard if you must
Wallow... Dwell... Drown yourself everyday.
Let your blood sear your insides, beneath your crumbling crust.
Let the world around you descend into destruction and decay.

What made me the expert...
To say these horrid, putrid things.
Because I am you and we both lay in the dirt.
Driven mad by the persistent echoes of our own misgivings.

I'm no expert... I am just a broken man.
Telling you to let yourself be caught in your own sad and angry song.
Be weak... Be as weak as you possibly can...
So you could rise from the ashes and emerge hale and strong.

Keeping warm through the night as friction turns to hear causing a blaze, a flame
Bright colors entrance and enchant as red mingles with orange creating a spectacular romance
Only to be put out, young flame your life ended to soon and your light never travelled far enough
Smoke leaves the only trace of your existence, let it suffocate those who scorned you!