hope i die.
wish i might,
pass to soul,
and move to light.
toss my heart,
please don't cry.
don't give up on me,
before tonight.

An innocently wise girl once taught me,
How to know that old souls die young.
Then the bridge offered to throw us into the sea,
We could've drowned brightly,
But we chose a different perspective and reality.

I'm going back
to the start,
I don't know
where we fell apart,
But I'm so glad
that you broke my heart.
Ripped it up,
tore it apart,
took the pieces
and made it into art.

I read a lot of poetry,
and there's a someone,
who's always written about.
Her name is "she",
but who could she be?

Who's she?
She's not a he,
she's definitely not me.
There's hundreds, thousands of poems,
about her, how special could she possibly be?

I wonder what she's like,
do you think she'd like it?
The way that my hair curls on the sides?
Maybe she's beautiful,
or maybe just has a sharp wit?

I wonder if she knows how to ride a bike,
or if she could cook pancakes better than I can (somehow)
Truly, I really wonder what she's like.

With every piece of toast,
comes the death of bread.

i think it's high time,
that we go,
back to the place,
that only we know.

i think that sometimes,
you don't know,
just where to go-
or how to grow.

i think it's high time,
that i know,
just how you feel,
it never shows.

i think it's about time,
that it snows.
so we can waste our lives
in the frozen grove.

i'll think of more rhymes,
just to cope.
i hope i die.
i hope you don't.

it's almost nine,
it's getting cold.
i called your phone,
but you declined,

so much for the grove.
i hope it never snows.

i think it's high time,
that i die.
all alone
in mid july.

our goldfish memories
are broken
shattered dreams

of a cabin
in the woods

we scavenged
all we could
-
your mirrored reveries
of gold plates
and sweetened tea

in a palace
in the woods

you shattered
what you could

Dipping beneath a dismal horizon,
The moon slowly deserts the night,

Giving way to the scarlet rays of daybreak,
Blood-like light soaks the dawn sky,
Forebodingly warning of sunrise.

they are beautiful nectar collectors,
they're busily pollinating,
viciously cooperating,
and skillfully propagating from petal to petal.
as they flitter and hover,
acting as ambrosia vessels.
from marigolds to foxgloves,
and even to blooming nettles.

hey man,
it's me.
your son.

it's okay if you forgot.
i'm just that scratch ticket,
that you never won.
just a ***** scab,
that you never even thought about picking at.

oh, the introductions, i almost forgot.
i was going to ask you,
what your name was, and whatnot.
but that'd take more patience than i've got.

i'm done waiting,
for a half-assed misfit *******,
who doesn't know how to commit to his kid.
i don't know if i'll ever be able to forgive you,
or any of the things that you never ****** did.

but hey man,
that's just my piece,
and i've only got one.
so write back.

sincerely,

your son.

"He was not unwhole, merely bent and jaded. And though he held nothing but love for those around him, the darker details bled through. Hindered from an honest delivery of his gratefulness and his grievance, he withdrew into himself.
The darker facets fulfilled his quiet desires of complexity but cost him his emotional presence; cold but comfortable.
He lost his happiness, his memories,
His charm, and above all else,
He lost his time.
His eyes grew sad,
His fingers wrinkled.
Though his eyes remained sharp,
His heart had been lost to atrophy.
Another person to love more than anyone could love him, is what he wanted, but never got.
To fall in love again was the escape,
An open and powerful rebellion against the vast sorrow that imprisoned him.
And so he tried his hand, sad eyes sought for someone to pour into.
He found none, but some found him.
Twisted and attractive, they wove together long conversations and hints of double meanings. They even almost learned how to care, but didn't.
Even among those he wished only to love, and only to gift,
He could never feel free.
For they hated him,
And so did he."

the champagne starts to taste like ash
as you fast crash, burn and start to rain like dust and soot.
quick, backtrack and rehash where it went wrong.
the vents, did they pop? did they bleed? did they clot?
plunder your gut, misplace your trust and start to let it rot.

Damp aromas arise from the ground.
The morning is almost here.
Smells of fog and drizzling days wasting away,
The dawn is almost here.

Crying skies give birth to a moody guise,
Where melancholy dies, giving in to prying eyes.
It's about time for sunrise,
But through the murky skies, no sun rays shine.

so, off with my head.

all i want to do is sleep,
until i try to go to bed.

again,
relive all the words that you said.

all i want to do is die,
but i'll keep living on instead.

I miss you
I miss what you meant to me
And this isn't hurting as much as it ought to be
It's just a longing
A wish
That you never had to go back on me

I miss you
And what you did to me
Cleared my head, taught me to see

I miss you
And everything you made of me

echoes of ****** ghost town mysteries
  devolving into our lonely synergy
where we can constantly misdemean each other in our gutter schemes
of battling anger with dreams,
  never again to split the seams,
   never again to be seen

please, hear my plea.
i never knew what we could or couldn't be.
  i just wish you could see me
   i am what you almost are and yet everything you're not,
tie my tongue, twist my heart, knot it up and let it rot

"maybe i'll get shot" we stockpiled musings on dying young,
seemingly out of all the time we thought we bought
you are an alleyway thought bay,
  forever haunting me enough to keep all my other ghosts away

  "the world is ending in all my dreams"
  i crushed what i had left of you, you'd never let me stay
we were a walking paradox, never nothing,
always but a dream never to be siezed

"we"
what a lonely synergy

My opinions are quiet,
My strains subdued,
I listen before I speak.
Please, don't take that as rude.

I'm not asleep.
My ears are not closed.
My head is simply down,
With my thoughts undisclosed.

Writing is a way of formulation,
For my poor thoughts, exploring.
On the outside my countenance is dull.
But here in my head, it's anything but boring.

I see a dull rainbow,
in the bright black sky.
I see your dying face,
with my crying mind's eye.

"Cry my a river,"
Whenever you would cry.
Drove out of town,
To drown in that river,
But it ran dry.
So I drove back, singing,
"This won't be that the day that I die."

i've hated everybody
since polaroids of fake friends and birthdays
decorated the inside of my locker door
ever since i'd empty the medicine drawer
take too many pills, then take more
and be found on my bathroom floor
-
i've loved every person i've ever met
since my wide eyes eyed every girl as a king's bride
ever since my wide mind contemplated your  two iride sunshines
i'd gaze and stare into them until i went blind
and i could've looked into those eyes until the day i died, if i tried
you gave me bright butterflies, like a white river at sunrise
you were the rapid current, and i made sure to capsize

with wide, bright eyes
i'd go wonderblind, every time
obsessed with the gift of your iride skies
even when i cried, even when i tried my best not to lie
you opened your eyes, basking my skies with your iride sunshine
ever since polaroids of shy walks home
and safely locked medicine drawers
you always saved me
under the guise
of iride butterflies~

you're nothing.
you know,
i know,
i'm nothing.

i'm nothing.
you're something.
i know,
you know,
we're nothing.

we know.
we're something.

Hold my heart close,
It believes it's sleeping,
But you sung it to insanity.
Now it's too dead,
To realize that it's screaming.

remember when we taught each other to think?
about how emotions were hex-codes,
and my midnight mood was light pink?
we talked on until our metaphors started to unfold,
and with every word told we let our shared emotions sink in,
until we felt the need to drink them back into a deep sleep again.

like death from above;
you left me,
bereft of thought.
as if blessed by a devil,
or behest from a god.
your lullabies used to fit like a glove,
as long as they were stories without plot.
just like our made up memories of swans and doves.
they twisted and turned,
like the noose that we tied,
around what we swore wasn't our love.

Four figure eights,
Only on the edge, never straight,
Slowly swimming into madness,
Calmly chaotic, never sedate.
Frantic fingers, fumbling for a fix,
For without it, we're ever anxious

act like god,
think like girl,
never awed.
look like pearl,
feel like fraud.
heart with a hole,
a lonely god.

when i see you,
it's all i do.
when i think,
of how i loved you,
it was all i knew.

so remember,
next i see you,
i'll always love you.
it's
all
i
do.

Sad, half-jazz songs.
Smokey table views.
Dimly lit cantering, cigars lit,
Softly droning drums,
Rhythmic, longing-filled voices,
And a silently humming pianist.
All, hard at sloth, least at work.

pried from my chest,
with tooth and stone.
i knew it would fall apart,
flesh from bone.
i knew that from the start,
i knew it'd fall apart.
sins now atoned, it's gone,
i'll never again miss my heart,
it's dead art, a sad swan song.

riding highs and moral fences,
wasting their senses,
until they're senseless.

do you remember when you lost it?
when you would take me hostage?
when you turned caustic?
you used my presence as your very own mental whetstone.
you called yourself psychotic,
called our words cautious, hypnotic,
but they were toxic.
they were exhaustive.
talks of the atlantic,
and how i'd cross it.
"don't worry, my flight stops in austin,
and then again in boston, i promise.
honest, i'll even book in august."
but then we tossed it,
there was a line,
and you crossed it.
sometimes you got so reckless, so hostile,
that i felt like your chaperone.
we both had to learn how to grow,
living in time zones of our own.
the air turned cold,
when we let our emotions show.
but i was lonely too,
so at least you weren't alone.
you acted as my bright summer sun,
setting my world aglow.
but every time you said hello,
i remembered how much i missed the snow.

you'll try to talk again.
so i can forgive,
and forget, every word you said.

so we can die,
comfortably,
in the crawlspace in my head.

black in my mind,
darkness in sight,
i've long gone blind.

to me you were bright,
beautiful, unrefined.
harsh, but always kind.

warm night,
time to write.
she'll be on soon.
i'll try to be less polite.
we should bring up plans,
since we're so easy to excite.
i'm not a white knight,
she's just frustrated.
i was right,
i'm still being too nice.
how much is the flight?
i guess i'll see her in winter.
don't worry, i'll be alright,
i swear i've done it before.
nothing will happen, not tonight.
no, no, please go ahead.
i've got time, it's only midnight.
my words sound like color?
to me they look black and white.
we've passed all the time,
it's almost light.
i guess it's time for bed,
goodnight.

I always treated you,
Better than you treated me,
I could see you didn't care.
Treatment is life's social key,
It can lift away all the hurt and despair.
I was drowning, and I tried to make you see,
But then again, you didn't care.
I'll remember when we carved our names in my heart,
But I hope I'll never remember where.
Because I'm trying not to care.

i can't help but think
that you were my missing puzzle piece
nothing lasts, i'll stop to drink
as i wash the blood
from my bathroom sink

i can't help but dream
every night, about some kind of love
drowning in red mud
choking on words once mumbled

i can't help but wish
that i never happened
to you
or you to me
so tonight i'll drink, dream,
rinse, repeat

until my memories lapse
as i collapse, shimmer and sheen
in a tiled room, never dimmer
than within my dreams

centuries
rhododendrons
smattering
reflection upon a carousel
niacin and restlessness
unsated
should've breakfasted.

i need a way,
to say,
good bye.
cause i'm,
giving up tonight.

i need a way,
that i ,
can find,
a sense of peace of mind.
cause i'm,
dying from inside.

i want a place,
to hide.
cause you,
and your heart,
are far too close to mine.

you need to run,
away.
far away from me.
so please,
do this just for me.

i need a place,
to lay,
tonight.
so i,
can dream of you tonight.
so please,
don't beg me to stay.

i'm not waking up this time.

-.. . .- -.. / -.. .-. . .- --

woke up ill,
almost hope it's terminal.
that's probably a sign.
find the bathroom door,
rummage through the messy medicine drawer,
there's four blue, but only one white pill more,
no luck this time, i need a refill.
i'll head to the store.
the walk's uphill.
typical.

bury myself under the world
hope to death i never meet god
suffocate my brain
stuff it full of pills and shame
to mitigate the pain
hope to high godless heaven
that i can convince myself to go sane

i'll sleep with you tonight
so i can try to find
some extra time
to buy myself
an extra life
so i can make you feel alive.
so i can bring you back to life.

i go to sleep at half past nine
so you find me asleep just fine
like you have at least every other night
since our last fight

i'll try to make my best amends.
i'll try and try and try again.
until you can finally find the lies
that you were living in

when you finally saw through to me
i swore that i could cross the sea.
but i never saw it truthfully.
i told you that i'd be just fine
when i felt like i would die
i told you that i'd be alright
so i could comfort you at night
so alongside you, i could lie
for the rest of my life.

i slept with you every night
just so you could try to fight
and live to see the burning light
of the rising sun at its height

i'll sleep with you again tonight
like we did, before you died.

i'll sleep with you every night
and try to find some peace of mind
i'll miss you every single night.
until the night that i can find
myself laying by your side.
until the night i finally die.

~

p.s. i loved you, at least a little

when the worst gets the best of me,
the rest of me gets better first.

he's human.
he's not sane or emotionless.
he's stupid,
and his jokes are hit or miss.
he used to be foolish,
but then he finally found a friend.
she wasn't poetic or aware,
and she smelled of fake confidence.
they mostly got along,
even after bad arguments.
but she was still foolish.,
and thought she could outrun the truth.
and if it wasn't for his truthfulness,
they might've even fallen in love.
but that story is just an overdue eulogy,
of all things that could,
but shouldn't be.

Painted poetry,
All along the hallways.
Hidden in ingenuity,
Your ideas wasted away,
Living in me, almost lucidly.

i'm getting tired of it.
not in an angry way,
it's just taxing,
to do this one-sided back and forth.

time to waste,
a heart to beat.

a god defaced,
now obsolete.

a faith erased,
believed deceit.

as is death without grace,
to pray is to accept defeat.

Don't let me go,
I need you to burden me.
Those memories no longer grow.
I needed your roots to feed me, too.
I hid behind every one of your regrets,
So you never said you hated me, but I do.