why do i always want
the wanton, the wicked?
when my mind wanders
it’s always a bad place

I realize
That not all men
****

That not all men
Beat

That not all men
Brutalize

That not all men
Leave

That not all men
Are destructive

But it's enough men
For me to be scared
Of all men

Brittle, crumbling, falling apart,
Piecing together, mending a heart,
Frustration, a manifestation of agitation,
Ponder, wonder, lost in thought,
Finding a riddle, unsolved,
Break into losing wits, yet you still sought,
An unorganized, horrible mess,
nozzle your love, flaws you caress,
Don't do this darling, on shaking knees,
Insanity is all I could feed,
I am not the saving grace that you need

I measure my worth,
By what I have accumulated,
Which really isn't much:
A diseased liver,
A book of poetry,
And a broken heart.
I am what I said I was:
Which really isn't much

at times the world
that runs on tracks
around the bed
of iron nails
clicking clack
deaf  to what it crushes
not looking back
charging forward
steaming blind
towards where ever
the tracks run out

I don't have a best friend
Not to be mistaken with having no friends
I do have some friends
But I have to the conclusion that they aren't trustworthy
Instead,  they are rather demanding
They have seen me laugh
and be funny
Talk about silly mistakes
and how others make me feel
They know that I don't have anyone in my life
and my unwillingness to dance
What they don't know
is that every day I fight
with myself
Not with scratches, blades and pins
But with my soul within
They don't know what I have been through
They have never seen the bruises still blue

They don't know
They just assume
They are not there when I am begging to up above
They are not there when I need a little love
They are not there when I have been crying for hours
They are not there when I feel like dying in the shower

Gossips and lame stuff is what they share
I continue to listen while the music continues to blare
There were many
who became my best friends over the years
Losing touch with them is what I feared
Then that's what happened
Sooner or later they forgot me
Phone calls became rarer
and Facebook our home.

Till today,  I stand without a best friend
Because I know I am whole
I am a winner
who stands alone.

there are worse things than
being alone
but it often takes decades
to realize this
and most often
when you do
it's too late
and there's nothing worse
than
too late.

I crave to talk to you about it
However what exactly is 'it'
A whirlwind of issues and trouble, interlaced within my thoughts tinging in red

I wish I could crawl in the comfort of your Autumn coloured arms and nestle my fragile body into your portrait masterpiece.

I wish you'd try to understand,
That this pain wasn't planned. I don't choose to feel a wave instead of ripples, that salty water steals my air because of the force it holds.

I long to explain why I feel drained, why simple tasks are no longer natural and it hurts to walk on glass.

and here i am in bed
staring up at the ceiling
and it's 1 a.m. again
but it's funny because i don't remember
even lying down to begin
with
              l.r.

from the void
the mountain speaks
the beat goes on
in these desolate peaks

moss covered stacks
of sea floor and mantle
embrace and fold
in metamorphic tangle

stunted fir clings
graying roots exposed
a rocky, barren life
is all this sapling knows

snowcapped elderberry
scale the crevice
where bear and wind
make raucous passage

avalanche chutes
gracefully recline
in verdant shades
to the waterline

lie in the meadow
to calm the chatter
make still the noise
to blunt the clatter

upon the coming
of soft night
undress this silence
angel mine



*I came to a point where I needed solitude and just stop the machine of 'thinking' and 'enjoying' what they call 'living,' I just wanted to lie in the grass and look at the clouds.

-Jack Kerouac

there is enough treachery, hatred violence absurdity in the average
human being to supply any given army on any given day

and the best at ****** are those who preach against it
and the best at hate are those who preach love
and the best at war finally are those who preach peace

those who preach god, need god
those who preach peace do not have peace
those who preach peace do not have love

beware the preachers
beware the knowers
beware those who are always reading books
beware those who either detest poverty
or are proud of it
beware those quick to praise
for they need praise in return
beware those who are quick to censor
they are afraid of what they do not know
beware those who seek constant crowds for
they are nothing alone
beware the average man the average woman
beware their love, their love is average
seeks average

but there is genius in their hatred
there is enough genius in their hatred to **** you
to **** anybody
not wanting solitude
not understanding solitude
they will attempt to destroy anything
that differs from their own
not being able to create art
they will not understand art
they will consider their failure as creators
only as a failure of the world
not being able to love fully
they will believe your love incomplete
and then they will hate you
and their hatred will be perfect

like a shining diamond
like a knife
like a mountain
like a tiger
like hemlock

their finest art