I sit at my window pen in hand
staring at blank pages, willing them to speak, to whisper something of my frustration and shatter the silence within.
I curse the ink that blackens my fingers as it flows without ebb, skillfully scratching out the mundane, the lists, the cards, the endless to do's, only to  become as mute as my friendless tongue when feelings threaten escape.
I struggle to contain all that I feel, all the loathing of all that I know and all that I am within this small form. The threat of drowning a reality and sometime solace.
Emotion unknown chokes my soul as fear cages my heart within it's cold clenching.
This art was my voice, my passage to sanity. Now ticking clocks and glowing paper mock my troubled mind.

While I wonder at the point of it all.

3am and sometimes
i think the ceilings are split
from the weight of your
words, cold. last november.
but my lips
are cracked from the taste of
your
apologies, like wet ashes
on my tongue. tomorrow's cigarettes.
i pray to god
sometimes. i ask for one
more chance to remember how your smile looks like
on rainy yesterdays. brief thunderstorms.
i miss you.
your hands are sand
and i spend the entire time
trying to hold onto them but they slip
out, from the gaps between my fingers.
i feel as if i am chasing smoke.
i feel as if i am chasing you.
i am chasing you.
but i don't know where you've
gone, and not a single
navigating system in this world
could tell me where you are.
i break one.
i try to find another, but
the store says they're sold out.
outside, i find a pile of broken
ones by the trash can and lonely
silhouettes walking down the left side
of the crossroad.
because they know if they have to find someone,
they musn't go the right way.
3am and sometimes
i find myself brewing coffee
in the kitchen,
and i forget how many teaspoons of sugar
you'd always add to your cup.
so i don't touch the spoon.
3am and sometimes
i wish you taught
me how to forget you before
you left.
i brushed shoulders with you
the other day,
when the lights were green
and we were both crossing the road.
i don't
think you recognize me
anymore.

I am fighting for the day
I will be happy at 2am,
my soul content at 3am,
and my heart at peace at 4am.

When I achieve this,
then I know I have made it.

No longer afraid of the dark,
insomnia replaced with rest,
my own thoughts stop haunting,
an end to the whispered weeping.

When I find this,
then I will know success.

Loneliness doesn't know my name,
depression loses his chance to invade,
love finds a home inside my ribcage,
my empty heart has been filled.

When I know this,
I have reached the finish.

*~ Matthew Walker ~

A vessel filled with Emptiness. Compassion rooted in Apathy. Apathy rooted in Neglect. Transformative; Passion never rests.

To Ember,
Have you noticed you're far too often someone's "Once"?
Far too often you make it into their "Remember Whens"
While you're there you burn brightly
But you burn bright until you burn out
And then all you are is a memory
A faded recollection
Just a blurry piece of the past
Like a bubble
Shimmering and floating high
Everything seems beautiful
But once it pops
That's it.
The End.
Ember, quit being so disposable.
So easily forgotten
Quit
F
A
   L
     L
      I
       N
        G
And F   A   d   i   n   g...

So quickly.

When will you stop being just a memory?

From Ember


Repost if you hate being just a Once and a Remember When. Or if you discovered the repost button and just got really excited because you love clicking on things.
Please comment I love to read interpretations of my work and really any other thoughts you may have! :)

"...schizophrenic kisses in a reflection."

Fade in.

My eyes stick to one another like two slices of wax paper with faltering, yet desperately unable to let go of graveyard-shift-love adhesive.

Shifting sides inside. Shifting sides inside.

I stare at my naked body, as water, or something like it, rains from my head to my feet. Warm. Out of control. Gathering by the drain, mixing with the thoughts that won't fall asleep and the daydreams reserved for night.

My eyes are encased by the steam. My lungs filling with water or something like it.

I hope for a classic horror scene or a twist in a melodramatic rom-com. But nothing is funny nor scary and there is no Norman Bates or Meg Ryan. I am not Billy Crystal. I am unrequited love and future fame stemmed by heartbreak and three thousand miles of, "Please let me forget the broken heart I left in a hotel, by the shore, on the east coast, on a pit of dried firewood, in my parents' home, in my bed, in every book I didn't finish, in every sentence I should have finished."



Fade out.


Wake up.
Wake up.
Wake up.
Josh, how many oxycodone did you take?

When I say I miss you,
it's not just that I want to see you.
I spoke with you face to face tonight,
but I still miss you.

I miss you like 2am misses the sunlight,
like the warm beach misses snowflakes,
like a fish misses the hillside,
as a poet misses the words he couldn't find.

I want to write you down,
for each part of our lives to rhyme,
I want to be yours and you, mine,
but you're the poem trapped in my mind.

*~ Matthew Walker ~

the sound of a car crash, the sound of your ex lovers heart breaking,
knowing it wasn't meant to be
this way, i called you and every clock stopped
i don't know how long it's
been since the last time i believed
you, last week i wanted to
night creeps up on you like the ghosts hanging in your closet, you didn't think you'd grow up to be this,
you didn't want to
and i swore in the seventh grade
never would i follow in my fathers footsteps, here i am, saturday morning
slugging wine from the bottle
a pandemonium of sadness, these corrupting juxtapositions are the only thing i speak with lately
maybe "we" were an overture for what we'd grow into, you know
the nights you text me asking why the hell i won't get out of your dreams, are the nights after you haunted mine
this,
****** penumbra, i see it too often
it shows up in the dreams where i find you too

I told my mother I couldn’t imagine dating someone I barely knew
And yet somehow we still found ourselves on the side of the road
With no way home and no desire to be anywhere but together
It was only one week later when I held you for the first time
When we first kissed and you couldn’t keep yourself from smiling
And it was only a matter of time before it began to feel unnatural
For your hand to be anywhere but in mine
I remember feeling homesick without you sitting in my passenger seat
Somedays I still feel that way
The truth is its so hard for someone to come into your life so fast
And leave just as swiftly
Now all I have are these ghosts that haunt my dreams
I swear I won’t let them torment me forever
*~W.C.