As humans we all start and end the same. It is only the journey we take that is different.

I been writing like a mad man and had my works passport get stamped in multiple countries .

Australia,  Italy , Germany , England, Indiana .

Okay Indiana was more a state run mental institution but I was published there none the less and I liked finger painting graham crackers and crazy women so probs to them.

I mean I didn't want to visit there or anything no offense but im not a big fan off fields and chainsaw art .

I stayed busy flask in pocket and my mind constantly towards the page .

I had gained respect but still I always found my way home .

For better or worse Hello has been the house that me and few other writers built I was here from day one i'm the flaw you just can't hide .

Everyone's favorite black sheep and all around lovable train wreck.

My place was permanent .

Like me or hate me you couldn't ignore me .
Well you could try but I usually won people over or annoyed them to the point of blocking me and joining the witness relocation program but enough about my past relationships .

I was taking some time off from three months straight of chasing publication.

I posted a write at this place I called home for so many years .
It was solid as a brick **** house .

Then some kid posted a write that was total **** but had a pic of her cleavage in the restroom mirror .

It trended in two seconds had a bunch of ***** ******* telling lies in vague hopes to see more .

I knew the ship wasn't sinking it long since met its demise on the icy dark oceans floor .

You just can't compete with *******.

I set my sails to the closest port .
I would share some drinks and maybe see some familiar faces .

I believe a pirate is better suited to roam than be food for the ***** .

My future is in the wind not lost within the depths .

Stay crazy hope are ships pass in the night .

And if ever we find ourselves in the same port .
First rounds on you .

Never sit and wait for decay on any level will consume you .

Stay crazy

Gonz

Can I learn to forget
someone I love,
someone who hurt me
not necessarily intentionally,
but enough that it would be
insanity to try and remain?

it's only when it grabs you by the throat
and coats you in its darkness
that you sit back and enjoy it and boy
you didn't even know that you were in it
but
it's puking in the toilet bowl and crying in the curtains
certain that you're dying and it's not
for want of trying that you don't.

Won't you sit beside me or is that you who died inside me?
am I talking to the ghost that I became?

A hungry heart
hurts like hell,
devours itself
searching for
something
that isn’t there.

So, my innards ache,
my fists break
hard
against solid objects,
tears threaten me,
come dangerously
close,
but never flow.