It's as if those sleepless nights
Were dragons in my mind,
Soaring through my clear eyes,
Torching the darkened skies.

It's as if I've been chasing them down ever since, desperate for another gust of wind
To buffet my smiling face with
That same feeling it had back then.

I suppose the high is never as good
As it is the very first time it hits you,
And the naive overdose of emotion
Was just a piece of something bigger.

Distance makes the heart grow fonder,
and proximity can make you wonder how you ever built it up so be some kind of cure-all universal life-problem-solver.
But when reality falls short of fantasy,
that's where all of the life-lessons are found.

The majority of them seem to be along the lines of:

She was too drunk.
She had drank a fifth of *****
over the course of four hours.
Oh we tried, but it wasn't happening.
It was sloppy and cumbersome;
we were like two hippos wrestling
in the mud.
I got up and left her to her
impotent dreams.
I made a cup of coffee, and
sat in the dark.
Images ran through my mind.
I turned on a light, and started
writing.At least something was working.

what a strange thing
this mournful pain
this longing for what
and who we've lost
for those who are gone
to places we do not know
cannot follow
this heartache
this broken hurt
this bitter fruit
we dare not let go
a hollow sound
an endless echo
a voice haunting
our every heartbeat
and is it not
above all
beautiful by its own right
its delicate necessity
how through its pain
we are also made comfortable
to be reminded
how fragile this life
how little time
we have to breath
how fast our nights fade
as if it all is but a dream
a bubble about to burst
nothing but ants
marching towards starvation
and one by one we go
a cruel act of kindness
to remind those left behind
how precious
how important
how necessary it is
to love

I Want To Hold On To This Sobriety
Heal All My Anxiety
What's This Feeling That Is Fighting Me
There's A Flight Or Fight In Me
Never Freeze , Its A Reflex
Can I Get A Break, Meditate, Or A Recess
I Dont Want To Reset
Picking Up The Pieces
Face The Weather , What Ever,
No Safe Place For Hiding
Is It The Auqarius In Me Or The Pisces
I Feel Like My Veins Conduct Lightning
Take A Breath Its So Intense
I Ascend By My Self For Real
They Just With Some Friends Lighting Incense
Burning Sage Dont Make Me Spiritual
I Do Need A Cleansing
I Know My Heart Is Full Of Poetry
God Isnt Pretending
Burnt Bridges From The Ashes
New Roads Mending
The Way The Embers Burn Its So Beautiful
I Could Die Inside A Vibe In My Mind
That Aint Physical
Conjure Beauty On My Coffin
I Think About This Often
I Only Feel Off When I Dont Feel Like Talking
And I Always Do
My Heart Is Truth
And I Will Follow That
Won't Follow You
Setting Goals
Faith That I Will Follow Through
I Need To Escape These Shadows Ooh,
They Think Im Lazy Think Im Crazy
I Would To,
If You Only Saw Me From You,
That's Not Even What It Is,
Not Even A Little Bit
I Been Dealing With Demons
Since I was A Little Kid
Somewhere Inside
Here He Still Is,
Detached I May Seem Cold Like Nobody Knows Me,
Now I Cant Even Be Present For The Presence
People Show Me,
She Wants To Hold Me,
I Cant Even Hold You,
I Cant Protect Your Heart
I Will Put A Whole Through
My Word Is My Wand
I Want To Be So Pure
It's Too Many Tears, A Thousand Years
Will There Be Anybody Here
When I Face My Fears
And All The People Who Sacraficed And Love Me
All Turn To Ashes
My Actions The Way I Hurt Everyone
It Is Tragic
I'm Like A Monster With Memories Full Of Disaster
Is There A Heaven After
I Hear In The Distance Innocense And Luaghter
You Cant Tell I Lost It
Cos Im A Good Actor
Be Hold A Pale White Horse
Or A Field Full Of A Bodies And A Tractor

young people,

they think nobody has the
same thoughts as them
they take great pride in some made up
originality

as if really nobody ever thought up
scenarios of themselves descending
some rope from some helicopter and
dropping in the middle of enemy forces and
starting to shoot around, all movie like ‘an ****
and killing all the bad guys while not
taking one bullet
One man army

or there’s those other thoughts
of being simply the greatest at some
sport and being admired and envied for it

also, the thoughts of *** in all its forms

the thoughts of mindless violence

of saving the day

of being somewhere else and doing something else

all kinds of thoughts
and all the minds who think them label them as original

but they’re not original

they’re every young person’s thoughts

and me,
I also have thoughts I consider original

I think of how it is to be old
pretty much every **** day
I think of me being old and dried up and weak
and waiting for death

it’s not a very pleasant thought
especially for someone in their twenties
but it’s my way of labeling my thoughts original

maybe in some wheel chair
with a nurse pushing me from behind
No kids
no family
no fortune
no achievements
a life wasted
death watching from above
mockingly

and myself looking up at it
smiling
*******, you think you got me
but little do you know that
while I was able, while I was more lively than
a rotting carrot
I defied you by ripping apart pieces of me
that will stick with the world
long after I’m gone

Oh, they might not be great pieces or even good ones
but behind they remain as you take me away

and all of them branded with my name
It’s through them that I am
immortal

and there’s nothing you can do about it

great, good
or bad,
you cannot **** a poet