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Daniel T Dec 2018
I just wanted to love someone
so much -
That I never learned to like anyone

She was dangerously close
like a molotov
to a dream.
The crease in her smile
From when she carried it closed
Or maybe from when
The one that last carried it for her.

There's a thorn in her paw;
That is a crucifix in her theart
and keeps her nailed to the pain.
It's a cross
between the love she has
for everyone
but herself,
and the hatred for me.
And I like it.
All of it.

Still though, I dream that she's in my bed
looking sweete than her taste for revenge,
it's 5 PM and she isn't wearing much
but she's in my bed, saying the things
that I need to hear,
which is just about anything at this point.

It's 8:30 pm, and I get my wake up call
and out the door I go, in my headphones go
the first thing I hear is Ed Sheeran
I hate that I enjoy his voice
because he's always ******* right
and he tells me "baby you look happier, you do"
well ****.
"my friends told me, one day I'll feel it too"
and now I need a shot because ****.
I really was happier with her.

7:15 in the morning
Don Quixote sits against my wall
I can't really hear his voice
but he says that it ain't right
to fight a windmill and lose.

and then he tells me
it ain't right for me and her
to be all we've ever been.

All I make is mistakes
I see them too, but it's always too late.
It's all I know how to do.
I know there's something wrong,
hence why I'm drunk when I write.
Sometimes I couldn't blink
or take a breath during those conversations.

There's so much I'm uncertain about many questions
I'll never ask, again
I used to ask a lot, for someone.
not anymore.
not since i couldn't explain
what I couldn't explore.
but that thorn is still in her paw.
I wish I could've removed it.
Daniel T Nov 2018
Sat in her moms car
The pillow at the head of my bed
Had a note
"Be back in twenty"

So I waited
And we talked -

I didn't know,
My girlfriend hated me so much.

"The glass is always half full" .. were my words..
... and for seven months she smiled
Wishing in her mind, that I'd end it all
.. not the relationship, that is.
"Just ******* **** yourself" ...
And the glass smashed, right after that.

Alex was never half again.

The rough skin, didn't hide her beauty
The recently dyed, golden blonde hair
Eyes that captured the waves of the beach
Crystal clear, like the best of a summer day.

Alex was shy.

She even looked beautiful - truly
With a noose around her neck.


Ballerina forever in thin air
Frozen in my mind's time
Thawing me
With her free twirl...

She was unbelievable.

My bedside table near
And the sour patch kids she left for me.


and dust.

Dancing around


What a ******* dream
it's almost a shame that they
Never come true.
Daniel T Aug 2018
Why can’t you text her 37 times?
In the last hour
****, add a couple of calls in between
Knowing that your numbers been blocked
And she’ll never see a single thing
You’re saying. They’re wasted words.
Feel good yet, loser?

Why can’t you check if she’s online?
On that ****** dating website,
Every few minutes.
Trying to figure out the exact moment,
She used it less, and put the pieces together
That she’s met someone else.

Why can’t you find that guy?
That she wouldn’t stop talking about,
Throughout your whole relationship,
And bash his ******* skull in,
With the sharpest edge of the rock
That you seen, while skipping them,
At that park…
You know the one with pond?
When you got ice cream and told her,
This was the happiest you’ve been in years.
You were just reminded of that day
Weren’t you?

Why can’t you let go?
Accept that it’s over, like she told you to,
Months ago while she hung around,
Just to keep you happy.
Even though,
She was always one step ahead…
Sadly, that foot was out the door.

Why can’t you move on?
You’re probably crying again as you read this.
It’s only the fifth breakdown today,
You’re adjusting to the feeling now right?
Maybe the next girl you blow it with will be the one!
There’s a cheerful thought.
But you’ll be too busy thinking about the last,
And you’ll **** it up,
Just like you’ve done, with everyone else since
That day she packed up and moved out.
Because nobody but her, can make you feel,
How she felt, along with those ****** 2pm calls,
When she was on break at work
So what if they woke you up?
That Is what kept you going, because
Her voice  was music to your ears
When the rest of the world was nothing but noise.

After the realization hits that she was the one,
And you’ll never do better.
That You’re just a mentally ill, ex to her..
The one that she tells to every guy she meets,
How you would call 37 times in a row,
16 missed calls in the morning,
And a dozen emails you wrote during
Those key moments,
When everything was falling apart.
And because she wouldn’t reply once.
...You put the *** in harrassment...

You probably think you’re better off dead
Well, you’re right.
…. ****.
Daniel T Aug 2018
Valentines Day, is the last
Time I wrote
And that I’ve been honest.
That’s to say
I haven’t written in a long time
Months, infact.
Don’t get me wrong
I’ve screamed
I’ve yelled
I’ve given the finger
But I haven’t truly been honest
Just let everything ooze out as it will
Close my eyes
Rest my fingers on a keyboard
And write.

That’s a problem
Because one day I'll stop writing.
And those emotions will seep
Into my real life.

**** it all
This takes up my time
And I hate it.
I hate having to sit down and write this **** out.
It’s much easier to scream at people
As they walk by
They walk away faster
And I get to release a little bit of anger
But this is where I can form my thoughts
I can grasp at straws to try to explain myself

By the way, those are my thoughts
That’s what I think of all the people reading this
You don’t get it
I don’t know what you’re going through myself
But you **** sure should not comfort me
and say I understand what you’re feeling
You don’t
Because when I express myself
You claim I'm the bad guy.

As I ramble on, I start to allow myself release
It’s like when you don’t ******* for a month straight
Funny thing about that is most guys can’t pull it off
And most girls probably don’t understand the release I’m talking about
Either sexually or emotionally
You cry to ******* often

Funny to think these words mean ****
No one of importance is going to see them
And if she did for some reason
She don’t have a clue what I’m actually saying
And if she does… this is for her specifically

Meanwhile I’m supposed to stay in line
Be the "better man"
And if I try to break out I’m told
"you're better than this"
"what about your reputation"

People sob over suicides
People cry over death
"they're mentally ill"
You put them in a ******* hospital for crazy people
It’s okay to call them crazy
Most of the time they don’t mind
Because you had the ******* *****
To say something honest to them
Instead of acting as though they’re the same as you
They are ******* different
And that’s what makes them a person you *******

So go ahead, don't ******* me. It has nothing to do with fear
Don't pretend I should be the better man, or that I'm just
Asking for attention and help.
Just ******* say I'm crazy

The tortured artists all come to the same conclusion
That nothing they can do matters
Death leads either to heaven, ****, or nothing
If nothing, then there is nothing left to bear
**** can’t be worse than this
The devil will at least tell you why you’re there
Imagine that? ******* closure.

If you read through all this
I wasted your time
But I’m not sorry
You want the meaning of life?
Go **** yourself
Fastest way to find out
**** it, watch me do it.
Daniel T Aug 2018
All the nights of unpleasantries
will no longer keep me awake.
I will never again dream
of you by mistake.

I wish that you would die.
A freak accident leaves you paralyzed
maybe a piano from the window
That lives in the blue of my eyes.
Or maybe that "random" passing car
will clip you in the thigh
And you'd be left (like me)
alone; just to die.

You could paint the town red
with your angry tongue
but instead maybe if i cut it out
you'll finally listen instead.

In laymens terms, prepare to be hurt,
I'll smile as your body lies in the dirt.
And blood seeps into your shirt,
coloring the earth.
Your purpose has been confirmed.

Thanks for the trauma and mental illness, miss you lots.
Daniel T Feb 2018
Right now, I'm here; stuck without her.
Empty, I could have the world,
but it's not enough, without her.

She's all I want. Even 4 days away feels like too much,
She had to leave, and now I miss her touch.
I miss her blonde hair, her stare, I miss her ****
I miss the love... ****!

This is cliche, and I'll wear it out.
I can't convince myself to write anything else,
When this is all I care about.
I'll be grouped in with the lame poets.
The ones who never write or sing of laughter
I can only write of the one thing that matters

2 weeks before Valentines, and I already know
That I want you to be mine
... for the this one, and the rest of them.
I love you Alexandra
Daniel T Mar 2017
I just heard a poem today

About a man who was heart broken
And how he only thought about
The next guy kissing his ex;
Or how he wouldn’t lock the door
In case she came back.

And the people cheered..
He was amazing actually
So much emotion in his voice

And the people cheered..
There’s a fellow who entertains!
I could never do that;
So I envy him.

I hope that person never has to suffer
Through sleepless nights
Hoping she finally calls,
Or seeing that new Facebook picture
Of her with another man,
Cuddled in the same bed I was in a
JUST a week prior
Kissing those lips, that tasted so sweet
When we last said goodbye,
Less than seven **** days ago!

I hope that person never has to heal
And spend his next 3 years, rejected
Rejected and rejected
By every single girl he finally falls for.

I hope that person doesn’t spend his days
Hoping that even once a week he can play
His favorite 2-player video game
With a woman who only wants to
Order some pizza afterwards; while
Cuddling up to a horror movie and a kiss,

It’s easy to find a drinking partner
Or somebody who will take their clothes off
at midnight and be dressed fast enough
To catch the last train.

But wanting to hear about the person’s day
Or what their favorite novel is;
Their desires,
Their fears
Or why she has those scars
On that beautiful body.

Or why she doesn’t think she’s pretty
When to you she’s the prettiest girl
That you’ve ever cuddled up in bed with
While you watched her play Zelda.

Finding that is tough.

I hope that person is never me
Ruining every conversation going his way.
Trying so hard to keep her smiling,
While forgetting that he’s an *******
Who doesn’t know when to stop talking.

That he doesn’t make enough money
To take her out for a romantic dinner
Or that he can’t drive when she’s stuck
In the middle of nowhere; in minus 20 weather

I hope that person realizes
Writing at 4:30 AM, on a work night
Because another man’s poetry
Made someone else think of a girl
That he doesn’t deserve
And can’t have
Is exactly how some writers live.

And we just wish we were entertaining.
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