Sometimes the pressures of the world are too much to handle
the weight just crushes down on you
and you don't know if you can get back up
With every push upward you gain an ounce of hope
but your foot slips and you lose your grip
you want to scream in pain
curse the Lord's name in vain
but nothing but empty air leaves your lips

You want to disappear inside your soul
cut out the wold and attempt to fix your gaping hole
but don't let them see you without a smile on our face
Trick them into thinking you believe you are more than a disgrace
or that you don't feel small
build up that wall

Standing at the corner of lost and lonely
I wish I could leave my own mind
pack my bags and throw an "out of order" sign on the door
you meet someone who gives you hope
but deep down you know hope is as far as you'll get
"she's out of your league" you're right
so lay down and act like it doesn't bother you tonight

Punch out a few crunches
hope the sweat will wash away the insecurities
because they told you it would make you feel better
both on the inside and out
so why not use the chemicals to scrub your brain

You feel dark and twisted
and that the poems you write should have a happy ending
as if it will make you feel better
but not every story has a sunrise
you can only hope yours does

Captured by the gleaming point of rage
Held bleeding inside my hands
It has been so long since I have seen the sight
Not sure where my willpower stands*

I have wielded this beast so many times before,
Scars ripped from a past so deep, harder to ignore
Only sibling blood knows points of stress
Ones that raise anger when painfully depressed
Yet that never counted is a deeper cost
In the heat of a brother's battle… much is lost
Not merely the pain can you muster
But the cherishing love we used to foster
There was a time when you had woke the lion
But now wisdom sees how sad that you are trying
To provoke a beast that once nearly destroyed you
Soon you will see that patience is now my highest virtue
I hold all loving pity for your years of my caused pain
And I show you the greatest sympathy in my refrain
Because I will not give in and hurt my brother
Because I know that in your mind…you suffer.

It tastes like purple
dripping of sugar and avoidance
in a circle
of loitering semi-pubescents.
Wooden sticks
precariously cling to
misshapened ice nuggets
in varying stages of licked, bitten and
melted.

School was out.

Hormones were in.

From the other hand
Becky sipped the ****** of
Strawberry Hill.
She knew things
she shouldn't know.
I wanted to know them too.
Looking over kitschy glasses
her gaze announced
(much to a young boy's excitement and fear)
she was bound
to kiss me.

At the awkward crossroad of
popsicle innocence and cheap wine
I stood clutching
my little piece of lumber
fighting sticky fingers
and the urge
to drink my first liquor
from her lips.

There is no such thing as
12 year old mojo.
The boy's experience
was only under-dated
by the alcohol in the pretty container.
She didn't care
about mojo or
decorum or
crowds.
She cared about RIGHT NOW.

She was an evangelist for the cause,
asking forgiveness
instead of permission
for her lust
...and I was being converted.

Hitchless
she walk into the face
of a clueless child,
tilted her head
and baptized his mouth
in ***** and braggadocio.

It didn't taste like purple anymore.

It tasted like America pie and graduation.

Her unseen signature
authenticates my diploma.
I am still a patriot.
And a warm piece still reminds me
of Strawberry Hill.

September 25th 2012
I was in your bathtub and we were laughing about the fact that we were so close awkward moments didn't exist. I put bubbles on your thigh and you made that squeaky noise I wasn't supposed to tell anyone you could make, it wasn't manly.
October 1st 2012
I was driving on highway 80 and I couldn't really see because the windshield wipers didn't work on water inside of the car. You couldn't tell me what you wanted and I knew that meant it wasn't me you just didn't fully know it yet.
October 2nd 2012
You tried to do it with 180 characters but I wasn't having that and when you called your voice broke before you could say my name. The number of times you said I love you in those twenty minutes outnumbered how many times you had in the past two weeks, by tens.
November 10th 2012
I cried in your sisters arms because yours weren't there and she smelled like your fabric softener.
November 25th 2012
I packaged all your letters in a box with a few of my own and mailed them back. You called me to ask why I would do that to you. I asked you why it mattered and you told me you slept with the blanket we made love on every night. I didn't know why that mattered either.
December 27th 2012
I laid in someone else's arms and they held me while I cried about whether anyone else's arms felt like home. He didn't deserve it, neither did I. This is my apology for trying to move on and bringing him into it.
January 11th 2013
You saw me for the first time and even though you hate tattoos you told me mine was ****. You were drunk and you thought my shirt needed a few more buttons, you didn't like anyone else to see  me when you couldn't. You told me not to tell you I wasn't in love with you anymore. I told you that was what you had wanted.
February 13th 2013
He had cancer and you were the only person I knew how to tell. But you were busy and you said if I was going to pull that **** to take it somewhere else. I learned who you were that night even though you'd always told me.
March 2nd 2013
It wasn't a special day, nothing happened. But I realized I had stopped letting it be about you. I stopped thanking you for letting me go and just let go.