This is what we are dealing with
a lifetime of killing it,
by feeling our ****
while others split,

by writing duplicates
of the same poem that fits
with the scheme
we are obsessing over,

replaying the scene
in our dreams
as we get older,
and shoulder that boulder,
such a bad mad monkey
that scratches our back with
facts we would like to ignore.

What a ***** of an addiction
that makes us explore
our pains in poetry,
while others just fall, crawl
and convulse on the cold tile floor.

If I am
gonna be better,
I better be deep,
get enough sleep,
so I can go on
working out
to break through
those natural
plateaus.

May take the
longest time
but I will find
the perfect line,
then make up
a better one.

Not gonna
slow my role
or loose my cool
anymore,
cold feet
can hit the road
cause I got
places I want to go,
and while I am
driving
I’ll be learning
things I didn’t know.

Since, I know
this show
will be cancelled,
and this fool
won’t live forever,
I’m gonna get
real freaking clever,
making myself better,
so I can enjoy
this one life.

Who wants to go get therapy,
expose all of those darker
pieces that are broke in half,
then reapplied to the darker side
of my glass figurine
that got smashed to smithereens.

Who wants to talk about my teen years
of hormonal chaos that cost me
so many nights of tears, anxiety,
and snot that made me cough.

I’d prefer not to be disturbed
by revisiting the pain existing
in memories I have put behind me,
so, I think I’ll pass on that whole
talking and letting go, so I can grow
and get better therapy scene.

Did my desires get set ablaze
How bad was the flame
Numb to the point
That I still can’t feel a thing
Third degree burns
Am I still on fire
So use to the warmth
I’m unsure
Tossed in the sea
But evaporated the liquid around me
To intense the heat
Fuel by thoughts
I try to keep it contained
But it rises out of the depths
Keeping anything and everything in check
Can’t find the ways to ***** it out
They just get caught in the blaze

I’ve lost the road.
forgotten
that this life
is rotting,
so I should be fighting.

Never seen
this song I sing,
just kept writing
trying to set fire
to the ground
were lost soul
were found.

Lava like fury
working in a hurry,
searching
for the end
of all this hurting,
whilst seeking the speaking
of dreams
into reality.

So, I am coming home
to a place that never was
creating my space of love.

I am so tired.
Can I sleep?
Will they let me
rest in peace?

I could use
a little laugh,
and a couple
cat naps.

Exhaustion
is the norm,
fatigue
fits my
full form.

Like a worm
that works
its way in
till my whole
body is shrinking,
till I wither
and I fall
barely able
to stand or crawl.

Coffee
is a sweet reprieve
but its effects
are very brief.

Can I please,
just go to sleep.

I wonder
wordlessly,
wearied
and alone.

Sometimes
I stumble,
a bumbler
who cannot
make his way
back to a home
that was never safe.

Then on a whim
I will catch
a hint of her,
chilling my thoughts.
I will find
myself thinking
what I should not
cause she was never
a healthy obsession.

I meander over
online conversations,
equal tumblr confessions
of our shared affections,
and slip into states of
melancholia love
wondering if
she ever thinks about me,
or if I was just a blip
that doesn’t even register
in her memory.

The space between.

A time to sell yourself.

A time for passing.

Sometimes I touch the right.

Too much, the wrong.

Resplendent deterioration
we live by.

With casuistic slogans
and closing doors.

D'you know disembarkment
leads to land sickness?

It does.

And who can then make
heads or tails out of
the qualms of tolerance
and his cousin, ignorance?

My daughter talks to
her blueberries like
they're her friends.
My soul smiles
and I never want
it to end.

Bravely the sun announces night has flown,
Its blinding rays far and wide it casts;
Reluctantly the moon descends its throne .......
Nothing lasts

Contentedly you'll hear the robin sing,
Her egg-filled nest she proudly broadcasts,
Then one sad morning her fledglings take wing .......
Nothing lasts

The withered rose that once nourished the bees
Now treats them like bewildered outcasts,
Her drops of nectar no longer appease .......
Nothing lasts

Sad hearts rejoice when Love knocks at their door,
So glad to forget their shattered pasts;
Soon they're holding hands with despair once more .......
Nothing lasts

For some, life holds honey;  for others, rue,
And then suddenly the trumpet blasts,
The Angel of Death comes to claim his due .......
Nothing lasts