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 Mar 2020
muteD
Words hurt
But yours shouldn’t have to.
The things you say stick to me like a
Tattoo.
I’m a vacuum.
I **** up all the things you say
and it just replays.
You say
things you think you have to say
in ways
that are better left unsaid.
Too bad you can’t UnSay
the things you said
even though I know
you never would.

How come
it is always the ones we hold closest
that is gifted
with the blueprint
of our defeat?
a way to have us
beaten, broken hearted
and down
on both knees.

How is this honest?
How are we fair?
To be clear,
as you sleep
without fear
I sit here and think.
If you had a snore for every tear I’ve shed,
you might never wake up.
Written : 3/4/20
 Mar 2020
Graff1980
This world has no place for me.
I am just a blurry sketch
or a sad parody
of someone else’s
old daydreams.

When I look in the mirror,
it’s not me that’s staring back
it’s a stranger wearing a
stained off white hat.

It has been more than ten
years since I believed
there is something better
out there for me.

So, now I just try to be kind.
I don’t struggle with a higher purpose.
Why bother when life is meaningless?
There is no balance to this existence,
and I know that I am worthless.
 Mar 2020
Graff1980
Outside my window
my unrequited loves waits,
a summer world lit aflame
dances deep in space,
and in love I burn the same.

Outside my window the world breathes
with lovely limbs swaying
in this warm sunny day breeze,
with all those plant particles
that make me cough and sneeze,
but I am still pleased
to see all this outside beauty.

Outside my window children play,
wandering in random ways
working and reacting on instinct,
creating and destroying realities
right there before me.

Outside my window are a million stories,
some written, some soon to be
someone’s great discovery,
some fantasies, others slightly altered
perceptions of reality.

Outside my window lay all possibilities,
to be hates and rejected,
loved and respected,
or feel the world’s indifference
in reference to some
preference for apathy.
 Mar 2020
Graff1980
One hug can collapse
my inner galaxy,
bringing me to the verge of tears.
Till I push them back
confused
by the strangeness
of my own madness.
 Mar 2020
Graff1980
A stranger’s smile,
a salty smirk,
a playful break
from life’s work;

Short blonde hair
waves from
several seats away,
beyond my reach
but does not escape
desire’s eyes.

A beautiful young,
pretty someone,
who I will never see again,
is passing, barely speaking,
but listening intently
to the night’s poetry.

Then she evaporates
into a mist of
mystery,
before I get the chance
to say anything
worthwhile to her.

Instead, desire
dries and dies,
a bitter note
choking
in my throat.
 Mar 2020
Graff1980
Holy is the faulty flesh
of friends failing and falling
to the final ravages of decay.

It’s the sweet sensation
of a warm beverage;
Caffeine to enliven me,
tired to waking in degrees.
Till, I am super alert,
but later succumb to sleep.

It’s a mind explosion,
a space explorer
or interior traveler
of the unconscious,
deep unraveler
of hidden truths
that are buried
within me and you.

Holy is the unfulfilled desire
driving us towards a goal
we may never achieve,
a dream we may never
live to see become a loving reality.

Holy is the undiscovered country,
one that does not wait at the end of life
but beckons us forth from the caverns
of our mind to unlock our own inner divine.
 Mar 2020
Graff1980
I imagined
the softness
of two lips
sharing a moment,

the sweet pressure
of personal gravities
pulling two people
into a collapsing orbit,

how fingers fit,
how the taste
of her lips
would push me on
to higher states
of desire.

I dreamed
of being one,
two bodies combined
by the passion
that has defined
my species
for quite some time.

I wanted to be
fulfilled,
by a fantasy,
but fantasies
do not equal
reality.

The arithmetic
does not add up
one bit.

So, I settle
for a self-purging
of this urgent
****** urging,
that is overworking
my human system.
 Mar 2020
Graff1980
We are all flowers in the end,
meant to bend,
or break
and go dancing in the wind.

We are all particles of lights,
crashing against time
like waves crash against the shore.

We are all snowflakes in a storm,
fluttering flurries that will melt
when it gets warm.

We are stories, minor memories
that are fading,
fading, fading
still glowing,
but knowing
that the days of dimming
will come,
that we will run
straight into
me, you, and eternity,
into
me, you, and infinity.
 Mar 2020
Graff1980
I am the happy new year.
I bring you pain and new fear.
It is anxiety that roams near,
making me a broken vacancy
sign that blinks stay clear.

Happy new year to you dear.
Isn’t this fun son.
We haven’t done
much yet but I bet
we won’t forget
this unless we’re dead.

What a wonderful beginning
coming on the end of last year’s ending.
We have been working and bending,
saving and straining, staining our hearts
now it’s time for a new start.

Happy freaking new year,
and it better be or else you will see,
cause this isn’t someone threatening
this is just the new year beckoning
come on in friend.

This is where the year begins again.
 Mar 2020
Graff1980
I am working on my obsession,
getting ready to maximize
the level of my videogame guys.

It’s an hourly endeavor
a corporate game that is
supremely clever,
for its frequent firings
of the dopamine
neurotransmitter.

So, unconsciously
I am driven to spend
hours on end
thinking about
or playing
and sometimes paying
for a game I don’t need
 Mar 2020
Graff1980
I am gone.
Far and wide
I roam,
but still
I long
to find
my way
home.

A voyager
in this vast expanse,
a performer
in this
tragic dance,
I spin and twirl
on a world
that moves me
against my will,
farther away
from my history
and the roots
I once felt.

I move,
each step away,
unable to retrace
and find that place
from which I came.

Still the stars
call my name
tugging on some
deep and worrisome
instinct
that says
you will never
go home again.
 Mar 2020
Graff1980
Though this isn’t blood you see,
you are taking every inch of me,
disintegrating my loving being
and turning everything
I ever was into a colder thing.

You preside over my demise
as you present courtly lies,
trembling with greed
and hatred for the parts of me
that you despise.

But, I do not die, nor do I rise, and fly.
I merely dissipate in smoking shades,
growing intangible in increments.
Till no one can see anything
of the man I used to be.
 Mar 2020
Jack Jenkins
I sit alone this half-fogged, half-starry night on the beach
Watch the water seep over the rocks and sand and life
Your face seems to haunt the water between ripples
I draw my heart out to your ghost in the damp sand
Not in symbols or letters, but in words shaped silently
Tears salted like saltwater was my offering to God that night
And I know I chased you off for good but darling
I'll always send my love after you long after goodbye
Darling I'm used to being in love on the outside
I hope to be forgotten by you, pray to be remembered by you, and hope to see you again.
//on her and unrequited love//
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