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After some time,
You know that
They don't
They can't
Understand  
That scars like these...
They don't go away
They don't fade
They come knocking
At midnight to tell you
About how they've
Festered for so long
Even after, you talk them out
Resolve them, lay them to sleep
They revisit you, dragging you back
To memories best forgotten
Touches burnt on your skin
Half-remembered words,
Hateful, disgusted expressions
Cheapened expressions
That make your soul unclean

Ordinary, everyday people
Could never understand  
Why you need to look away
Fidget so much, the hidden
Violence with which you **** back
When someone touches
Upon such sensitive issues
Maybe you talk it over with them
Once, perhaps, and then they think
That it is gone, it is laid to rest
But what they fail to realise
Is that it comes back, creeping
Crawling, taking you over again
They'll turn away, disgusted
Because they don't know the
Impacts of long-term exposure
To slow poisoning of heart, veins, lungs

And they'll turn away
Repulsed, disinterested
When you come crying
Begging for some help
Some solitude
Because you can never
Make them feel  
The pent-up emotions
Over a decade
The unseen scars
These little things
Have left you with
They will not see
The confusing mixed
Messages being sent
By those other people
They will not understand
That you're not looking
For something you've
Lost, right there,
Sitting on the ground,
Almost helplessly,
On your knees

In fact, you're looking
For something
That was never yours
To have in the first place
(peace, solitude,
no more loneliness,
no more emptiness
)

Something
you have
(never had)
Permanently
Lost
Part 1
My third car broke down
All that metal
It will outlive me

I’ve been jogging to work
Taking the back ways of a neighborhood
I barely know

Yesterday morning
I took pictures
A modern day romantic

A pack of camels followed by
A pack of Marlboro silvers
The cellophane glittered with dew
It will outlive me

A sunset behind a church
Sunsets will outlive me

A shopping cart next to the church sign
The grocery store is very far from here
I imagine it belonged to a homeless man
He found this spot and was saved
The art of being saved will outlive me

Broken glass
I want to touch it
Leave my blood upon it
I want to glue each piece
To form a ball
And hang it from a nearby tree
So that it may own the morning sunlight
Reflect it like small miracles
Some parts red
That glass will outlive me

A dead rabbit
Mostly bone now
That rabbit did not outlive me
I feel good about that

There was also a woman walking her dog
We passed by a tree at the same time
She and the dog were old
She would not let me take her picture
So I took one of the tree
She and the dog will not outlive me
I don’t feel good about that
Part2
This facebook status will outlive me
And I feel like a caveman
Scrawling poetry on cave walls
In an attempt to be remembered forever

I want to place my hand upon your belly
And bite my lips
So I can spit blood
Like a human can of spraypaint
The outline
So you cannot forget what my own touch looked like

You
May not outlive me
And I may not outlive you
All we have is now

All we have is now
My car broke down, the third one this year, and I have been jogging to work. I took a bunch of picture the other day on my jog. This poem has those pictures on my facebook to accompany it. I've been re-reading some of the romantics lately, only my nature is much different from their nature.
Fix
A heartbeat is all it takes
to turn on the lights.

I’m grounded but unable to be steady.
Up. Down. Up. Down.

I’m curving the world around me.
I’m as dense as I’ll ever be.

I can't open the doors.
I'm in a foggy mist of hallucinations.

I’m caught up in the clouds.
But the ground is above me.

My heart keeps beating.
But the lights are always off.
The sun and the moon
blend together in my mind,
one for each of my eyes. 
Everything is dark and cold,
and Everything is hot and bright.
I presume, though, that I do not betray the standards
of hope and humanity, nor justice and morality,
but who else will have sympathy for the wicked?
Who am I?
Not name
Not address
Not occupation
Not body
Not thought
In an instant I can open my eyes
And take you in
And know what is in front of me
And that you are beautiful
And it would take days
For the voice in my head to describe what is in front of me
I am not that voice
I am that instant
I am a series of instants
I am constantly changing indescribable awareness
That feels
I feel **** sometimes
I write poetry
I am poetry
Read this again once I am dead
Feel me?
Feel me
I dare you
Underneath the burning building in my gut
So much is preserved safely
In the memory where you are smiling
I find peace
I want to be lonely in private
But there is no space for that

Under the rubble
Compound fracture of bitter jawline
That same smile a photo
Warping in fire

I want to preserve you
Like a wasp in amber

But we are not as slow as that
Not as gentle

The theory is
Two objects fall at the same speed
Regardless of mass
Except for people
We do not fall for each other at the same pace

I felt like the man with the rescue dog
That heard your heartbeat
After the cement settled
And the wood grew cold
White ash
Black cinderblock paperweights
Your body preserved under
Layers of broken building
But you felt safe
Because you set the fire

And I was the man that found you
Some secrets can’t stay buried

We were cave people
Found and revived

I’m not new to this
Just rusty
Just dusty
There are burn marks on our bodies
And I have almost forgotten how mine got there

There were things you thought you should go back for
Things you wanted to leave behind
But in the saving you took what you could carry
There was baggage in your desperation
To save what you thought was important

When you burnt yourself to the ground
You forgot that fire is a funny thing
It lives too
And you can’t control it

There were some houses
Left standing
Whole acres unlit for no reason

Not everything gets burned

And there is a photo of you
Cigarette hole dimples
A smile that brings me peace

And you brought with you
Bits of burning ribcage
And smoke filled lung
To hide your heart minimally

I brought nothing
Mine is slightly weather calloused now
But it works just fine
It’s just rusty
Just dusty

So take this
What is left of my burning breast plate
Carved message on the inside
like an oversized locket
Underneath the black and white negative of your film strip

“Thank you for trying”
 Dec 2012 Courier Pigeon
Brycical
Closed my heart for a moment
to open my eyes
& mind,
didn't realize
I was nakedly dancing
with some reprobate snakes  
because I was trying to make them smile
like a stripper searching for tips.

I liked the way they rattled
through life, their *****
thoughts synced
up to diff'rent
drums 'till I felt the venom
in my veins they claimed were
love bites, despite the paralyzation
of my intuition and warmth.

I was seeking out the snake's smile
if only for a little while
cause I thought my heart could help.
But snakes can't crack a smile,
no, snakes can't crack a smile.
They ask me if I still love you.

I blush, grin and say;

of course.

Why?

Because your eyes are of the most utter ocean blue,

but other days they're the currents of the stormy grey sea.

I see a current of salty water, deep, once blue, but now a faded grey.

I see a bundle of darkened grey clouds in the distance,

and the thunder rumbles from your irises,

and I hear it pound in the back of my mind.

I wonder if you knew.

I see a spark of lightening flash, only once in a while,

while you look at her.

My throat corrodes with bile.


She says she sees green demons lurking in the depth of my own ocean currents,

and I shrug.

What am I supposed to say?

I know you think about her.

Night and day.


The hardest part,

is a generic, old saying.

If you love them,

you let them go.

If they love you enough to stay,

or to come back,

you never let go.





But you haven't come back.
EDIT: Wow. Never expected this to blow up as big as it did. I thank you all so much!
EDIT: 2/15/14
i would say i never loved you, but that is a lie.
they say that your *first* love makes *you realize*, your first *love* wasnt really your first.
i pray for the day this happens.
*getting over you was the best thing i ever did.
and i did it for myself.*
so, one last:
*******.
you.***
EDIT: 9/14/14
i still hate you.
and you don't deserve her.
EDIT:   12/01/14
im sorry. you still arent
the same person
and neither is she.
but we all grow up.

EDIT
10/14/20
I was going through my bookmarks
on my old computer and found my old writings.
I just wanted to update this one last time to say things are better,
things are good. Thanks again for all the likes and comments.
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