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 Jun 2015
Jacob Christopher
I know I'm just a stranger,
shouting blindly to the dark.
But I will see this message sent,
it comes straight from the heart.
If suicide's consumed your mind,
the "only" option left to you.
Drop me just a couple lines,
what more have you to lose?
I've seen some malice in this world,
I've felt ridiculed and shunned.
I know how attractive it can be,
hell, I've even picked the gun.
So lend me just a moment,
in the least you'll know you're heard.
Maybe with a little luck,
I'll lend some clarity through word.
I do mean it.
 Jun 2015
Jacob Christopher
Two boats float on the horizon,
as I watch the setting sun.
They put the picture in perspective,
how deep and far the water runs.
It makes my concerns seem awfully small now.
The vastness hits me like a bomb.
The burden of my ghosts lifts from my shoulders
and I think "Alayhim as-salaam"
Alayhim as-salaam should roughly translate to "peace be upon them all" if I'm correctly informed.
 Jun 2015
Jacob Christopher
I had so much passion,
once.
It seeped from every pore.
My heart roared out of me like a lion,
hungry and proud!
I walked with a bop in my step,
fought like a savage,
loved with my whole being.
I was raw,
unfiltered,
naked!
I've come to find,
life has a way of taking that from you.
You add a layer over this scar,
a layer over that one.
The layers stack until the fire inside,
is suffocated.
I'm just going through the motions now.
I starved the lion,
and now my heart is quiet.
 May 2015
BoF
You have a freckle above your lips,
that I've been dying to kiss .

I live for the moments when you say my name,
your voice is a melody  that I replay.

On the days we cannot meet,
I have visions of you in my sleep.

You can say I'm a little obsessed,
for this I must confess
your love is simply the best.

B.oF
 May 2015
JDK
I can't wait to partake in things that make you sick.
My stomach stays high tide.
Stay away from it if you can't swim.
My guts are laid out in patterns;
peaches and fruit flesh stuck to fingertips.

(**** my **** then give me a kiss.)

I can't wait to imitate art contained in this.
Two figures trapped within an unfinished painting.
Four strokes of inspiration to complete the lips.
A splash of white to end it.
Ew.
 May 2015
JDK
"Well, poetry, you know. Poetry, especially. Poetry is for the purists. It's like at the essence of everything. Like, music is the poetry of sounds, right? And a song is sort of poetry set to music. Art can be like, the poetry of paint on canvas. Arranged in a certain way? The arrangement is the most important part of it, sort of. It's what makes it poetry. Dancing is like the poetry of a body in motion. Movies are like, the poetry of moments - certain moments - you know, they call them scenes. And they're all presented in this kind of sequence in order to, umm, like make an impression?"

"Wait. So then, what is poetry? It's just words, ain't it?"

"Well, yea. It is and it isn't. It's more than just words. It's like the essence of things - it's hidden beneath everything. It's the sort of thing that you can only see if you're actively looking for it. Well, that's not true. Sometimes you see it when you're not looking for it. Like, (slaps hands together) wham! You know? And that's when it makes the biggest impression, and if you see it, you feel this sort of compulsion to share it."

"With words. I mean, it's just words though."

"Right, you said that. It is just words, but it's more than that. It's playing with ideas, and feelings, and meanings. It's playing with the meaning of things! It's an attempt to define the undefinable. To capture the intangible and sort of present it in the form of words. Which is ridiculous, really, because it's impossible. That's the thing about poets, they're all crazy. They're all trying to explain something that can't be explained, but they can't not do it. It's like a compulsion. It's like, you know, from math. It's like an asympto -"

"But it's just words! You already said. Math is numbers. Poetry is just words. Like, what are you even saying right now? You're not making any sense."

"Sense? Who's trying to make sense? No man, that's not what it's about. Like, what even is Sense? It's just a word. All of this. What we're saying; it's all just words."

"Right. That's what I said. It's just words."

"Yea, so then, why are we even saying them? Why are we saying 'just words.' Why are we saying these words? Right now. Why are we saying these words at this particular moment in time? Like, why? Because of poetry, that's why. Poetry is the attempt to figure out that why. And it is that why. It's the question and the answer at the same time."

"Whatever man. You don't make any sense. It's just words. Case closed."

"Right. It is and it isn't. It's more than just words. It's Just Words.
Just.
Words."
"You wouldn't get me on the phone." - Brand New

One time, on a break during my philosophy class, this kid said to me, "Yea, I wasn't high enough to get that one." Which was dumb because I hadn't smoked **** in years, and I definitely wasn't high when I wrote the thing that he was referring to.

"A dreamer is one that can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world."
- Oscar Wilde
 May 2015
Jacob Christopher
If you think world peace is realistic,
you are a ******* idiot.
All the bright eyes and optimism,
I'm getting pretty sick of it.
No, it's not that I don't want it.
It's such a lovely thought.
I just know that evil in this world exists,
People full of madness;
malice, hate,
and rot.
You can stop the useless chanting,
go and tear up all your signs.
And if you can't quite shake the hope,
remember,
children die.

— The End —