the grass is always greener on the other side -
or so they say. but when you’ve been to the other side,
and you’ve felt what it’s like to be there,
you can’t help but wish you were from the other side.
i’ve forgotten the days i used to feel like i had
people who didn’t hold a knife to the small of my back
all the time, i’ve almost forgotten the last time i was truly happy.
sometimes, though, i wish i’d forget - maybe it would be easier
not to know, maybe it would be easier to be content with
todays. but today is today, and i am trapped
(or so it feels), and will continue to be for a month and a day.

It’s peculiar how we let people into our lives, and they go a swiftly as they come.


I am a castle with walls built high, but my knights are weak. It’s tiring to bring down my gates and close it again, and again, and again.


I’ve been home to many travelers with whom I have been very hospitable with. I’ve watched as they slowly unveil their secrets, desires, and passions. I’ve grown to appreciate and care for everyone of them, until it is again time for my weak knights to bring down the gates and let them go,

but I don’t even get to say goodbye.

My monsters crushed me
with their unsuspecting weight
hidden deep within the sadness
of my ever changing eyes
I wouldn’t expect most to understand
this constant, pressing heat
that has the power to take away
the beauty of a morning sunrise
But to be alone was what i knew
with secrets i was dying to say
with my burning heart desperate
for you to knee **** me back
to clear skies and brighter mornings
where i'll sing softly to myself
not wanting to speak my thoughts
to another soul, but you.
This perception might be distorted
by feelings and ‘the word’
that has not yet crossed our lips
as if its some sacred creed.
But i am a desperate writer
as many of us are, just
trying to convey thoughts
of a particularly long night,
where all i really want,
is to be next to you.

They walk in lockstep
Ignorant of the words they repeat
The excess of your covetousness
Sickens me to no end

I had respect once
Only pity and disgust abounds
Once a leader of men
Now a disciple of intolerance

You wished I was never born
And yet I was
It was not for your edification
But mine

not everyone who holds a pen is a writer.
not everyone who rides a horse is a jockey.
not everyone who clips their toenails is a podiatrist.
not everyone who smokes knows the feeling.
not everyone who chokes is a sadist.
not everyone who lies is an actor.
not everyone who wears a moustache is a communist.
not everyone who smiles is the sunlight.
not everyone who tries is a failure.
not everyone who shouts knows the silence.
not everyone who cries knows depression.
not everyone who laughs gets the joke.
not everyone who speaks is a teacher.
not everyone who hears truly listens.
not everyone who died really lived.