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We’ll drive all night with nothings to
speak, but everything to hear. only
of course to leave the house of
what we know and expand our mind,
a trip across the universe. such is no
waste. I am free.
I am free. I
am free.
and the only thing I need is to know
How in the world do I go back?
we used to drive all night. I’ve
missed your face and the space
your body encapsulated as the
beat blared through our bones
Again, can we do that again?
i stroll down the path i know, yet i
feel warmth crawl under my skin
you tap on my heart making sure it
breathes, sparks flutter through my veins.
on cue, it seems i fall to the floor. beneath
my fingertips, imprints find those
bones i want to call home.
so lips meet new lips, the sole way
i know how to convey. i
peel the shirt, the art off your
back appearing are the scars
my eyes knew were there. your new
skin sparkles like winter mornings
and the empty sky above isn’t enough to
let you let me tap on your heart, too.
you storm away and i am left
inside with my clothes still on
Jan 2021 · 120
drown
ice drops from my fingertips
air crawls over my skin
i can’t escape this feeling
where do i go from here
being traced like a french girl
laying bare in your place
the only place i want to
continue to know
where do i go from here
drowning in my own skin
drowning in yours
I fall back down and I
wanna stay here underground to
steal all the seeds that
your hand holds in front of me
soul to soul daisies will grow
and shoot above the ground
hide behind the grass, only
you can see the flowers
in between my ears, my oh
my these roots are like
treasure hidden inside my
chest sprouting to heal old wounds
Do you love her, friend?
With the way you hold her,
and flowers that you send.

Are you going to care for her?
make soup when she’s ill.
Are you sure, sir?

Can you swallow this pill,
as large as a horse or
be still in the sill?

Do you burn to the core,
friend, laying dormant
at night wishing for more?

Is this the wretched torment
wished upon me,
watching our lives ferment?

Poppies floating in hair,
golden flecks of red
It will never be me.


I’ve only thought of things you’ve said.
I digress, it’s she you have undressed.
Jan 2021 · 172
enveloped in your embrace
enveloped in your embrace
sinking safely to the
netherland where
my lipstick meets your face
sticking calmly to your cheek
an imprint made to last, I
could feel it for years after
I grabbed the memory
from the air as it was created
knowing the moment
would fly by with
such speed, but i can still
feel your skin through my shirt
and your fingertips tracing
my chin, cheek, and hairline
I can feel your eyes as they
wander amazed as i sob
tears in your passenger seat
and conclude with a warrant
to kiss you
not knowing if i’ll have
the time again
to show how much love
can pour from my skin
and into yours lighting a fire
that would still be burning
the afternoon after
the coffee and cigarettes
were gone. There’s beauty
in disaster and truth in struggle
and i found both of the better
with you. Smiling and laughing
and asking about my day
and always being tucked in
so tight
like i was precious cargo
Jan 2021 · 148
july
floating in the air
staring at the water
and the waves around
you
making magic fly
from my fingertips
higher in the sky
more than i’ve ever
been knowing that
i’m worth it
looking back in moonlight
the darkness appears
but as you sink i float on
we’ll separate like dew on grass the
need to settle in the ground appears
to me, not to you having yet to
learn with simplicity comes strength
to overcome a raging past to
live again freely
with sadness in your eyes and the
most fragile mind i have experienced
of course you fly away
the remnants of your story just
pieces to the puzzle you wished were
missing lost in the woodwork
I am a chrysalis who only
wants protection and
to be protected, because as I
sit slowly unwinding my energy is
down, slowly propelling to the ground
and i shatter as i meet the pavement
hearing nothing but crickets, not even
your voices pretending to quiet my
mind’s racing thoughts

I am still on the sidewalk, they
don’t even look at me, the
want to walk right past,
to crush me under their soles,
leaving fragments as evidence.
anyone, anyone don’t leave me
behind
You line your nose with powder.
Can you see the paranoia as
easily as it is for me to see? You
mistake pain as pleasure and I see
charm as desperation. The appreciation
for kindness only gets you so far before
tragedy washes over our eyes.
If I could I would but I can’t when
you’re placing everyone else last,
not even the kids stand a chance when you’re
looking at bags of false hope
closely enough to drown your dreams.
Jul 2020 · 80
Chainsmoking
you sit in a daze filtered with street lights
At eyes length and ears depth
You wonder how you got to be
The ******* the second floor balcony
Chainsmoking as if you heart would flatline,
Your blood stop flowing
Through your veins that
The tiniest bit of alcohol was seeping through
To the skin that only sometimes felt comfortable
If you stopped

Only comfortable
When someone else was admiring it
And the shadows that dance behind you
Are the shadows that you wished you were
In your eyes, when anyone says I love you
Clinging to it
Believing that at the end of the day
That they won't stay
Whirring sounds of cars pass by
Thoughts become softer, the world becomes louder
You're not quite sure what you adore more
The silencing of your being
Or the loudness of your heart
As every chore you do is reciprocated
In ways you prefer to love
And be loved.

And be loved.
To be loved, to be loved.
What a sight I imagine as my children grow
To see the life I sought
With homemade cookies
And scrambled eggs for dinner
With snapdragons and lillies blooming
As rain water collects by the play set
Outside in the plethora of greatness

To sit on a second floor balcony and consider
The life that brought you here
With too many cigarettes
And enough bad decisions to
Create the life you always dreamed
Wouldn't be your own
Stuck between what could be
And what is
Mar 2020 · 134
Silver Spoon
People always tell me, “he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth,”
But how did his mother form a spoon of silver?
Was his mother made of gold,
Placenta made of diamonds?
Perhaps, instead, the doctor placed it
As he placed the eggs with daddy’s *****.
Where is it, then, can I find a silver spoon
To insert into my ******,
Believing my procreation will hold
It locked between her lips as she makes her exit?
Dreary days await,
Between a dying black mother and a teen
Without abortion options,
Between unaffordable housing and
The pricy whole food grocery store,
Between budget draining formula and
Deprecating comments from men without
**** - or kids.
So, tell me, then where is my silver spoon?
How can I put it inside,
Store it away to upcycle into education?
But it sure would be nice
Not to walk down to the corner pawn shop
And request an education - her education.
I’m not asking for a handout,
Because look where we are, drowning
Amongst failed startups in
Pursuit of the American Dream.
I’m asking for simple decency,
And for you to share with the future
The very means in which have buried
Your sensibility
To maybe lessen the anxiety
And suicidal rates of a country
Founded on freedom
That is trapped by pharmaceuticals
And the choice of living rich
Or dying broke.
I’m only asking for some decency,
To share your boat with sinking dreamers.
I’m only asking for you to plant a seed.
I can do the watering.

I’m only asking for a little bit of decency.
Feb 2020 · 101
magic mornings
magic mornings here with you
grasping for a piece of grace
fingertips paint the fields
rooting within the ruin
Jan 2020
Feb 2020 · 81
The Well
Options whirling as the past creeps upward
All the heavy desires and life long infatuations
exhausted the present's daunting boundaries.
To drive in this tornado, I could surely find the answer to
alter perceptions: a bottle of this, or that, a conversation
my mind disappears in. An alternate
reality that doesn't reside here, a reminder that
disease exists, the slab of stone this dream
is standing on, right beside the pedestals we
only kept each other on. The lonely words of gratitude
spreading smiles across our faces, pushing past platonic.

It's pulsing through my veins, fearing excitement is
about to turn to hesitation when my lips begin
to touch yours. Crumbling in the arena before we
get the chance to dance behind closed doors.
The lights begin to dim, flickering with rage.
Last but not least, please tell me one more time
of the thoughts you hear. Will you be defeated with
me?
Golden shovel, pulled from The Well, song by Johnny Neiman
Jan 2020
Feb 2020 · 92
Desires
The satiation that went unmet
Thoughts unraveling
As I touch the sky
Wrangled back in
Contemplating the exhilaration below
The dilemma of silence
Pushing the fog aside
To let myself feel
One more time
Rooting in elation
As branches dance in
Letting go of gravity

              Or trying to
2/2/20
Feb 2020 · 75
Worms
Underneath the rubble
Long forgotten worms
Squirm above, below
above again
Searching for decaying
Fruits to consume
Recreating the beauty
Existing prior to the
Earthquakes
2/8/20
Revised 2/10/20
Feb 2020 · 75
Vacation
my fingertips travel grounds untouched
Mountains known, thrashing through the skies
my eyes wander to the sights on every magazine
Little hideaways, masked within the archives

i strip the body in the mirror
Foreign attractions, morphing to native

my feet rooted over the dust
Crumbling statues, melting closer
my ears absorb the language of the wind
Ethnic songs, no one performing for me

i pare the mind healing me
Former homes, vanishing to nothingness

my palms press stained glass windows
Spiritual structures, exhaling grace
my hips wave through existentialism
Rejuvenating air, blanketing energy over me
2/25/20
Rev 2/28/20
Jul 2017 · 392
Chips
I'm writing ****** poetry
Because i dont know how else to say
I didn't go to your funeral
On that warm july Saturday

I only knew you died
On a sunday when i was at work on a tuesday

All i can think about are chips
You always made sure i had chips

I didn't go to your funeral.
I didn't take a shot of titos.
I didn't drink a bud ice or miller lite.
I didn't smoke a newport smooth.
I didn't get that tattoo you were gunna draw
I didn't play a game of pool.
I didn't tag public property.
I didn't teach the elderly.
I didn't save a friend.
I didn't play ukelele.
I didn't draw.

I only asked for chips.
May 2016 · 504
Untitled
May 2016 · 899
may fifteenth
the weight of  your smile
when you look at me
is comparable to the weight
of a thousand bricks.
they'll crash from the top of a building,
and i will discover one day
what the ground felt
when they finally hit.

the light of your eyes
the way they hit mine
they're filled with beauty,
like that of the sunlight
rising at seven am
driving down the highway.
the fog still on the road,
you can see the day begin.
and i realize this could all end,
i'd be perfectly happy
staring into the light
until the end of my days.
May 2016 · 1.4k
Forever Sitting on the Fence
Forever sitting on the fence
You've placed me on the bench
Never will I see the green side
That's what I get for being this kind
Always watching dead grass
A lousy metaphor for left past
Trapped in a sense of grace
Yet you've put me in last place
Stuck in a reality that is no more
My body's the only thing left able to score
Even when I see the sun
My skills say I should run
Forever sitting on the fence
From here everything makes sense
Never will I fear the unknown
I see from both sides of the throne
Always looking out for number one
In this way, I will always be shunned
Trapped atop these wooden pickets
It's way too late for me to buy a ticket
Stuck in the nose bleed bleachers
No one is capable of being my teacher
Even when I see the sun
From my fence I will not run
Forever sitting on the fence
Where you put my heart to rest
Apr 2016 · 1.0k
Sunlight
Suddenly, there was sun.
I wanted to bask in it,
To take it all in.
The rays touched  me,
Talked to me ways
People around couldn't.
I couldn't put on sunscreen,
The way this feels -
Enriching and enlightening -
I would never put a mask
Between it and I.
I want to write about you.
You leave me speechless.
Apr 2016 · 738
The Forecast
I’m like the Midwest weather forecast.
I’m stuck in summer.
I hate the dead of winter.
It rains in the spring.
Overall,
fall is the ******* worst.
It’s autumn's curse.
All I see are dead leaves,
falling to the floor.
Piled in the corners,
they’re sticking to my rake.
It’s kind of overwhelming.
I really cannot focus,
when all these leaves are here.
I wish I could switch gears,
to get rid of all this fear.
The leaves they're flying instead of falling.
I guess this is the part that's beautiful,
the magical somewhere in between.
Perhaps falling isn't
the ******* worst.
It’s that special time between
the winter and autumn,
when it’s sometimes snowing,
and there’s no sunshine
to come leaking through.
The clouds are thick at this time.
I wrote five short poems over the course of the months April 2015 to February  2016. This is what I put together in chronological order.
Apr 2016 · 592
Time
Am I crazy?
Am I sane?
I've lost track of time.
It's only been a year,
And my life is different
Than it was before.

I've been on the floor,
I've been in the sky.
I've been in between.
It's only been a year,
And I feel like I'm worse
Than I was before.
Apr 2016 · 421
Silent
Writer’s block
But I can’t seem to stop
My thoughts are pungent
Hid within my dungeon
Soul seekers beware
My thoughts could scare
They could take you in
And make you binge
On ideas that are dark
Or maybe light a spark
Thoughts of three
I wish I were free
It’s the worst of times
Their minds never collide
Constant background noise
Can’t seem to hold my poise
My thoughts are violent
Though my words silent
Apr 2016 · 303
0406
I wish we could rewind
But we don't have that kind of time
Our future is on the line
Apr 2016 · 329
insane
will someone please explain
how goals are to keep you sane
its a set up for failure
it seems so unpure
to have a path the will be destroyed
by yourself or someone else

its all a big circle
success being the end game
but when does the game end
i've rolled the dice enough
to get snake eyes plenty of times

why hang onto hope
when you have nothing to hope for
it'll just happen again & again
failure in your face
so why even risk it anymore

there might be a chance at love
but why would i want that again
when it was just ripped away
away from me in the matter of days
it was a sudden twist of fate
in this game we call life
yet its still a drug to me

i'm still searching for my next fix
but i'm staying distant
not really letting myself feel
or is this normalcy
i've never felt this way before

i miss the days i was high on life
i miss the days when that was my normal
i don't understand how people live like this
i'd rather be insane
than stable with a clear mind.
Apr 2016 · 310
for tonight
A sociopath, at last,
my ideas aren't insane.
I have found a match
for my dreaded DNA.
Though it's just one night,
with the stars shining bright.,
I ****** you in my car.
You ****** me in my head
with conversations of life.
How goals are useless,
and love is hopeless.
I don't really care
about that or the fact
my body is totally bare
around someone who doesn't care.
I just ****** you for tonight,
though it's your thoughts with might.
Manic depressive the say,
that's what we are on paper,
but this is normal I say,
to ******* for a night.
It felt so right.
Apr 2016 · 1.5k
We are the broken ones.
we are deemed the broken ones
with minds gone "crazy."
we are only grateful recipients,
for we see the world in other ways.
we are not faulty humans;
we only have an alternate life.
Apr 2016 · 547
0405
I'm stuck on you all over again
          at least we never had a bad end.

You made my heart stop
          with your secret thoughts.

I'm writing about you again
          how sad will this end?
Apr 2016 · 314
0401
days are filled with you
nights are haunted by you
however it's not you i seek
it's myself, not so meek
i'm trying to find that time
when i was more confident
and just a little less bent
i'm looking for a sign
one that means i'm not blind
though that is hard
i've been dealt this cards
a king and queen of different suits
a signal to a life unknown
one filled with ups and downs
one where you're a part of
it wasn't all you
like my head says
i made myself work
even with all of the quirks
so i'll find myself again,
i'm somewhere around this bend
death doesn't have to be the end.
Apr 2016 · 1.5k
Puzzle Pieces
You tried rearranging
all of the puzzle pieces.
It didn't turn out so well.
There were holes, gaping.
There were never pleases,
there was my tell.
I should have stopped you,
I would have had to yell.
This was something you felt
you truly needed to do.
So, I watched over the puzzle.
In search of a way to cope,
I only kept hanging onto hope.
Hope that one day you'd see,
the puzzle pieces were always right.
I did not need rearranging,
after all.
I found this in my journal from last August.
Apr 2016 · 282
The Most
I miss you the most
when I've lost myself
when I need to be reminded
of who I used to be

I miss you the most
when I sit at home, alone
when I used to be sitting with you
taking care of you

I miss you the most
when I start something new
when all of the same emotions come
I fear they won't last

I miss you the most
when I need somewhere to lean
when I'm down and out
you'd set me straight

I miss you the most
when I need to be reminded
when I need to find me again
I miss me the most
Mar 2016 · 388
Somewhere Around this Bend
Days are filled with you
My nights are haunted by you
However it's not you I seek
It's myself, not so meek
I'm trying to find that time
When I was more confident
And just a little less bent
I'm looking for a sign
One that means I'm not blind
Though that is hard
I've been dealt these cards
A king and queen of different suits
A signal to a life unknown
One filled with ups and downs
One where you were a part of
It wasn't all you
Like my head says
I made myself work
Even with all the quirks
So I'll find myself again
I'm somewhere around this bend
Mar 2016 · 240
Means to an End
Where do you start
when you have no end?
Is this just the beginning,
or are we rounding the bend?
I did what I was supposed to do
Yet it is turning out the same
I'm still running out of green pills
The ones that keep me sane

I did what I was supposed to do
Yet I still feel the same
I'm taking more orange pills
For I fear I'm going insane

I did what I was supposed to do
I counted to ten
But then I kept counting
Hoping I'd see my self around the bend

I did what I was supposed to do
It didn't really change a thing
I made a dreaded phone call
At least the voices were nowhere to sing

I did what I was supposed to do
It doesn't help the present problem
I made an appointment
At least I called them

I did what I was supposed to do
I left the house how I should
I kept my responsibilities
At least I could

I did what I was supposed to do
But I still feel the same
All of these **** things
And I still feel insane
Mar 2016 · 358
Its funny isnt it
It's funny isn't it,
The way another can make your day
I'm not talking about the ones you hold close
I'm talking about the ones you'd never expect but,
Those that pass by on the streets,
Wave they're hands like they're ready to meet
Those that know you but you thought they hardly cared
So much to acknowledge your irregular presence
It's funny how you know
When you need these things most
So you leave your house feeling alone
With a sliver of hope you won't end up more lost
You drive to where you need to go
End up early to the party you were invited to
Except it was to be,
You ran into old friends and made new memories
You got there in time to get a hug
Just because it looked like you needed one
Too afraid to say yes I did,
But courageous enough to get up and accept
It's funny isn't it,
The way another can make your day
Mar 2016 · 339
Lines
All I find are worn out lines
Like the ones on your arm
The ones where you shot the most
I am just the same
Only mine are in my head
A blown out track
Where everything goes wrong
Yet we still try
To find some peace
On that empty, broken path
We'll push our plungers
Hoping for something new
Where this time, it will work out
Mar 2016 · 332
Seeker
I wonder what I look like
To those on the other side
Am i just a lost girl
Or am I wanderlust

I have no goal
For I fear failure
The past has made me
Given me my name

A hurricane happened
Destroying my home
New walls were built
They forgot the door

The thing about walls
They keep me inside
I struggle to find the sun
And to see my friends

Those were things
That kept me alive
Kept my heart
Beating inside

Now I look out windows
More intrigued by the seams
I had it all figured out
Now I'm puzzled

I've lost all hope
To find what I'm looking for
For I do not know
What it is I seek.
Mar 2016 · 303
Floor
Here we are again, stuck on the floor
Crawling across the carpet to what is no more
Screaming inside "I still love you more."
With those words, my heart you tore
And left me abandoned on the shore
So here I am, on the floor
Still crawling across these wooden floor boards
Mar 2016 · 655
Some Nights
Some nights
Its great to write
Long stories that are bright
Today is not
Tonight is filled
With thoughts that could ****
Hopefully it only lasts until
Tomorrow comes
With rays of sun
To dry up the mud
Mar 2016 · 1.0k
Midwest Weather II
Do you remember Midwest Weather?
It seems I'm stuck in winter.
Some sunshine skies allowed.
Though the skies are dreary now,
The fiercest is very promising.
In days to come there's a high of 75,
Only a few with an overcast sky.
Mar 2016 · 395
Cobwebs
In all the crooked corners of my mind,
Cobwebs and dust mites are all I find.
There's no longer a sense of reality,
I can only see a ton of duality.
My stories now have dust mites,
Whose bindings have layers that are contrite.
So where is it that I should seek,
A tale that is not so bleek?
Mar 2016 · 706
These Days
These are the days she fears the most.
When she wakes in the morning,
there's something askew.
She will try and get out,
out of her warm, soft blankets
before the buzzing of her phone
reminds her that she must work.
These days, though, she'll fail,
and stay cocooned until ten minutes
before she has to make the short journey.
She'll normally crawl out of bed,
pour a hot cup of coffee with one sugar,
drink it slowly while inhaling
her first nicotine fix for the day.
These days, though, she ran out the door,
coffee in hand, and didn't light the first cigarette
until she was already on the main road
to the hell hole she was employed at.
Usually, by now, her mood will have changed.
However, these days it just seemed to get worse.
Stuck between broiler and fryer,
she sat with chalky vinyl gloves
scrubbing the dirt and grease away.
She would think to herself,
"Haven't I done this before, to myself?"
These were the days she hated most.
When her co-workers ask,
"You're not your normal self?"
"How am I to be normal when I am
stuck here with people much better?"
She should know better, by now,
to not think this way,
but everything today was pointing
towards the barrel of a gun.
She finished her shift, eight minutes late,
ran to her car to be saved by the grace,
the grace of her car and a warm voice on the phone.
This day was finally getting better,
but then she walked in the door
where it was do this, do that,
screams here, screams there,
crying here, crying there.
These days, everything just got worse.
She finally mustered up enough anxiety
to tell everyone she needed some space,
so she took her best friend,
on four doppy long legs he stood,
for a short walk around the block.
She was finally clearing her head
of the overdosing thoughts,
when her ****** nosey neighbor,
stepped out onto her walk,
making conversation uncomfortable,
after five minutes she got on her way.
This girl finally decided
that it may be time for another cancer stick,
to wash some of the nerves away.
Once back around, she still was on edge,
pretty typical of these days, at least.
She went to her room,
and made yet another phone call,
to the same one as earlier,
it helped a bit more this time through,
until children came into the picture.
Normally, this would be fine,
even liked, but these days,
No.
No one was allowed inside this girl's head,
for these were the days she feared most.
Mar 2016 · 428
This is a poem
This is a poem
about love
and how sometimes
it fits like a glove.

I wrote this poem
on a cold and eventful night.
I was driving the whole time,
you were in hindsight.

This poem will tell you how
I wanted to say it back,
but I couldn't find the words,
that's a skill I lack.

This poem is a story
of how you said you love me.
You had wrote a song,
that I read four times briefly.

This poem is payback,
for all the sweet things you wrote.
While your brown eyes wandered
mine were stuck on the last note.

I'm writing you a poem again,
trying to tell you I can't forget
the way your scent lingers
and the way my lip was bit.

This will be a lengthy poem.
You're worth the hour drive,
I knew it the first night,
you make me feel alive.

This poem is about you
and all the tiny things you do,
from the way you laugh
and the way speak Korean, too.

This poem is about respect
about how you've come so far
when I've seen others fall
you're passing the bar.

This poem is supposed to show you
that I feel those words, too.
I can't forget your hand on my thigh,
if it were another's I'd want to sue.

This poem is about the future,
in case one day it needs referenced
because what is love
if one day we're not ******

This poem won't be the last one,
we're still at the start,
even though I don't know how you did it
you've already won my heart

I really like this poem,
for it is about you and me,
all those tiny things we spoke of
and what I want us to be.
Mar 2016 · 367
With You.
I hate to lose you to an illusion,
it's like our bodies have a fusion.
I'd hate for you to end up a mirage,
we're beginning such a beautiful collage.
I'd love for this to move forward,
all I need is for you to say the word.
I'd love for this to be something true,
and for it to not go away out of the blue.
I'd hate to lose you to a game,
which would leave me filled with shame.
I'd hate for this to be all done,
especially since you've already won some.
I'd love for you to stay mine,
everything together is fine.
I'd love for this to continue,
nothing is as great as when I'm with you.
Mar 2016 · 398
dogs these days
No,
You cannot drink you're on antibiotics.
Wait,
I'm here taking antipsychotics.
Mar 2016 · 317
storm
this is where it starts,
deep within my heart.
it tears from within,
my body feeling the wind.
it escapes through my mouth,
swearing, "I have this all figured out."
it's a creator of emotion,
my mind's becoming an ocean.
i pray this doesn't have to be,
my thoughts destroying me.
it becomes a hurricane,
my attempts are now vain.
it's wind is now crippling,
my body starts shriveling.
the words finally escape,
"this cannot be fixed with tape."
the ocean in my head is empty,
though the waters are testy.
i've lost all faith in god,
my hope now lies abroad.
i see an island near the sunset,
my heart will place this bet.
Mar 2016 · 267
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The way you graze my neck
It's not something I would expect
From such soft hands of a man
I can no longer decipher this land
One filled with gentle, warm touches
You don't know it, you're pushing all of my buttons
The ones that haven't been explored in years
You genuinely seem like you care
The way you kissed my nose
Oh, that was exhilirating, you know
Even though we're in square one
I think you've already won.
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