I want to write a poem
But I’m not a poet anymore
I can’t breathe words and turn them into dioramas that people look at and admire
I can barely read without getting tired of seeing words
What is going on
I could only live in words before
But now I want to live in life
Now I want to breathe crisp air
And I’m greedy for the trees
I want to go and splash in puddles
Which I’ve done before
But in a different way
Not because it’s something nice to do
But because I want to enjoy the water before it goes back up
It’ll come down again
And my moods will fall too
But I’m here and I’m looking
For anything
Anywhere
Inside my own story
That I don’t have to rely on my own pen
To find.

I don't know how to  tell you that I'm terrified it's me.
I'm scared we'll ruin who we are with what you're wanting us to be.

I was down.

And so I decided I needed flowers.

But not roses. Because roses have thorns.
And I am so sensitive lately.

I decided, not mixed flowers.
Because I’m mixed up.
And I need to stabilize.

I decided, not tulips.
Because tulips droop.

I decided,
I need gerbera daisies, bright.

Because gerbera daisies stand upright.

And so I bought some
in a wonderful shade of Fuchsia.

there's blood on my hands
but blood on yours too
I wonder what would have happened if I never left
I wonder what would have happened we finished those riffs
those bolts of love like musical notes
bursting into flames right after they're wrote
passion only gets you so far
it doesn't always coexist with love
passion for lust
you were someone I thought I could trust
I have to move on, or combust
what choice do I have here anymore?
no passion left to settle the scores
the notes faded the minute we made the music
I just want someone to call me baby all the time
I'm relieved I'm not yours, while being sad you're not mine
that's gotta be some sort of sign of my state of mind
what reality do I exist in?
I just call it mine...
if I could
I would crush up nostalgia and snort a line
******* wired into me like muscle memory
like when my fingers touch piano keys
I remember the music
I remember your hands
I remember your apathy
I remember our plans
I remember the golden morning light
I remember the texture of your couch
I remember the smell of the air
I remember the taste of your mouth
I want to move on
I want to let go
I want to remember the potential of my glow
this is music only I'm writing now
and I'm the star of the ******* show

He saw mist on the coast
Sat and thought what he had missed the most
Was it innocence
A heart, whole,
Or maybe both

Self destructive
Lover of pain
Turning your back
A silent refrain
You always listen
I lessen

They changed the names
In the stories
Why do they all look the same
When they came
To speak truly
It didn't rain, it didn't rain, it didn't rain
Burn the forests and the plains
Every year coincidences become less strange

Am I more animal, vegetable, or completely ******* mental
Does getting swept by the wave have some potential
I saw her on the tracks taking long strides
I was scared but not surprised, but later washed my eyes

With concrete

you know of blood as thick as honey
it turns to crystal as it dries
tame me with tender, melt me
with kindness
let me feel that i'm more than

You're better than you think you are.

Everyone is.

But I believe you don't believe me.

Yet you should.

Because I see.

How you put aside yourself for those who can't help themselves;

How you manage to put a smile even if what you feel is not worth smiling;

I see.

How you hide the pain from everyone.

Yet, I see.

It is unbearable but you shrug it instantaneously.

We can't have all the luxuries;

Trying our best to find their worth;

Lest we bother those around us.


It's okay.

When you feel lost in the book of life,

*Kindness is your index