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Feeling Real Oct 2015
It’s too easy to breath in and let go
To each his own
Too smart to hone your skills
And jostling inside the passenger seat
The hills and barren plains
Tears well in my eyes, but I never cry
It’s not emotion, but a lack of body

It’s a void, black and white
But no color is not a color
so what is there to describe
I am devoid
Deaddened
Decreasing in size and volume and I
Realize that I am no longer the night
But I am not day and I do not shine
I am the otherside
If anything
I am an other, alright
I am
I have to be something
If not, then what
I am scared to find out
Feeling Real Oct 2020
I have to commit it to memory
Before it ages out of me
All the easy laughter
Pigtails, lollipops
Begging in my mind
Something will burn me down and consume me

I spoke of faking bruises
And pretending what was done to me
Tony said to draw in
A hand at my throat and Jacob laughed
Coffee stuck - A choke
And I don’t know
Was I the joke?
A message to shut up -
Or an image he’s thought of but not spoke

Tony asked me, who do I like?
Clarification - only who I work with
And I don’t elaborate on how’s or why’s
Caffeine and sugar sweeten my reply -
No one, just I
Just I
And I’m sure neither were surprised
I am both a pretty picture
And a nightmare -
Sigh
Names not changed because who gives a **** I’m anonoymous
Feeling Real Nov 2015
I sometimes forget to pitch my voice up
and I lose track of my expressions and my body
And I stretch so high that my head never comes back down

Nobody talks about me anymore, and there is no relief
The way I walk still turns heads, my perfectly adept
Hair and makeup leave quite the impression
But silence follows in my wake

I am fine, not searching for attention my careful adage
I just want to make the best first impression
Heels and dresses and eyes and stomach and ***
I drink coffee for 2 out of every 4 meals
And gorge myself on all the emotions I miss out on, living
Solely out of the pocket I feel safe in, my home
A house that sits just next to a neighbor
But we never meet
Feeling Real Jul 2014
driving past red
calming hues of blues and greens
nature's imitator, bleakly, but resilient
if I were the ant I would step on me, too
often I am, but disguised
cracks in the sidewalk are cracks in my exterior
I paint myself thin upon tree branches
I drip - drip with gravity's whim
blurry-eyed and sleep-deprived
glutton for existing as such
in my hands, crumbled, dry leaves
relish in the ending of acts
misguided attempts at steeping leaves
harvested during new moon
tranquility is unreached at current times
I am always sure to remind what's forgotten
Feeling Real May 2014
I let you in at the back door
I see you need to come inside
I let you in, sure you can't go back
because my heart needs something better than to get off track
and it's time that I did what I said that I would do
before I found you
I will go, I will go
I will go where I need to be
I will throw all the things that I don't need away
I will sing, I will lie
I will walk the night
and make more money than you do 9-to-5
I will do what I need to do with my life
These things that you do every day make no sense to me
and I see through logic so **** clearly
You're ******* dumb
and you do it all alone
Feeling Real Aug 2014
I am at fault for the things I perceive
When I am surrounded by nature
Watching lovely nymphs dancing through trees
My head's so busy, thinking, of only me
Settled down, at night, I relive my day
Too many calories consumed by me
Too much of a disappointment to be
Anyone but myself- and awake, I lay
The men I want, and the things I crave
Escape my grasp, my loose fist clasps too late
Today I asked a boy to date me, he lied, he hates me
I attract those who can't tell I hate me, too

I always catch men staring
And I feel a searing guilt
Of acts only committed in mind
Because I remember and
I find even the thoughts repulsive
I'm fine now, but thoughts evolve and
Triggering can't explain well enough
Feeling Real Apr 2014
I share the fault
with all the world
sheltered women who haven't heard
the division of society
more than young and old
the innocence of one
the truth of all
the escape that was mentioned
of life and love and thought
and the law who insisted
with no place to have undone
the time that's spent
blood shed as it went
no notice, nor crime
just warnings, every "this time..."
so society as a whole
each of their individual souls
made, to end, prescribed, then sent
along its path, too soon, too soon
a pre-destined night under a moon
and the lust of attraction
the haste of their actions

all death is meant to be
the hero is he, you see
Feeling Real Jan 2014
Nature delivers all that she promises fairly.
She hands us the reality of death,
to be either denied and abhorred or accepted and understood.
I lay under an opened night sky, bitter.
I am agony as the stars wax and wane by my eyes inability to focus.
Of the lessons to be instructed,
this seems, to me, so implored by my spirit.
Looking out into the nether,
my mind attempts a fathoming of what it means to be endless,
like space seems to be in any singular moment.
When I am close to an end at any moment,
my mental prowess is under strain.
All things, even those beyond my grasp, are cyclical.
Stars are born from dust to die in dust.
The Universe, born, will end.
Our Sun, the life-giver, warmth and light,
once mere molecules will return to such.
I can not escape this truth.

I, like all life here, was born to be swallowed back into Earth.
A cruel thing it is, to be destined to loss,
always looming in the future.
In our past, all have been ended,
like I will have been to those who proceed me.  
I have long-since been swallowed by rivers and dirt.
I have given birth to grass and inspired trees to bear their seeds.
I have issued new men to prosper and time to pass.
Though solemn this truth, all will follow behind me.
Inspired by William Cullen Bryant's poem Thanatopsis. It is a great read, so please do not hesitate to read if you enjoyed my take on his work.
Feeling Real Feb 2014
I believe I could shrink
if I tried hard enough
so I must not want to

Somewhere, deep down
or, likely, close to the surface
I am a glutton at heart, at least

So I stay, a stable one hundred and thirty pounds
I've heard a skeleton weights 15 pounds by itself
and the organs add 25 more

I am 90 pounds of something that shouldn't exist
What is the point of wanting to be less?
Why, BMI 20, do people tell me I'm thin?

I don't get it
I can't see it
I am not it

Perception is silly, sometimes
Feeling Real Nov 2015
God no you didn't die
I wasn't with you
God knows I never tried
To make me more like you
The evening never breaks
Without lightening on your face
If I could see it all again
I'd go back and watch it end

Magnificent
Dreaming friend
Never never sleep
It's not nice
I went
Screaming when
I saw your dying breath

Hold hold hold
Hold on
I'm not dreaming I'm not dying
Without your song
Won't won't won't
Won't you be
A little bit less frightening
A little more alive again
I don't pretend anymore
I know it's over but I can't move alone
Without your song
insp by teen wolf, you know, derek hale's first love who he pretty much ******* killed it's so sad really i really hope i did it justice

I hate this but i'm keeping it up for nostalgia's sake. maybe i won't hate it when i'm 80 please don't judge me
Feeling Real Dec 2015
He never talked to me except late at night
When I grabbed a cigarette and took to the nasty light
Rotten flies dead in the sickening fake yellow
The lamenate floor in the kitchen
The feeling I've been left with

You've never looked more familiar than
On your knees, on the floor between my thighs
Your pale white breath on skin that left
Me colder than outside

Take me back to the grave

I just want to impress the world
Leave my name, coating under all their tongues
A leak - leaking, the water work's are coming out
Let them drink all of me down

I've been around longer than I've been
Waiting for you to have me
I guess I get it's all about
Making impressions that'll last me
Feeling Real Feb 2014
Can I
itch or scratch away
myself or essence
Memories in
reveal youth
old truths
a new being
Naked
bathed in skin
made for quiet
overlooked
except the sin
just with him
I
Can I
wash clean
in water
new life to end
flowered
carried in winds
black and dull
I
beyond measure
circumstance
happenstance
by birth
disgusting
What was it?
Can I
remove old ache
Wake
not an It
I
What am I?
existence
stripped of me
What is I?
slightly parted mouth
thigh
closed eyes
shut off
away
inside
I
no longer I
Can I
nothing else
recollect
no recollections
and mention
no family
or their ugly child
Pecola
I
Just I
Blue eyes
I knew
Can I?
Feeling Real Jun 2015
I deserve the whole ******* world
and my circumstances leave me
in trees, waiting to jump
or already crumpled leaves

It is fall in my spring
my choices are always to sit, to sleep
to wait quietly for the opportunities I need
but what ever comes is quick to leave

I feign emotion, like I care
like any of that matters
I only crave excitement and opportunity, really
the reality of existence has me believing
in a fake life

Was anything ever interesting
after the wars or the dead bodies
after the piles of ****** hot beings
after I found myself to be lacking

I'd rather die
I'd rather exalt a dangerous ruler
I'd like to attach myself to danger
I'd like to cause some sort of tremor the heart
of man

Nothing is interesting anymore
Nothing holds my attention
How many times can I read the same story
How many times can I pretend I hold affection
that I am unaffected
that I am sociable
that I care
that I am
that I exist
that I am I
I am not
I am it

I am a fake

I desire change
was gonna call this one antisocial personality disorder
Feeling Real Apr 2014
I was mistaken to believe
in anything
time changes much but not unseen
stuck inside without
with mine
an undesirable fate
my mate
in chains
enslaved
alive
Feeling Real Jan 2016
I. You don’t see him - you’ve never really
  seen him. You just open up to the stars and
  imagine him as the divinity watching you
  back. But stars don’t watch you and he
  doesn’t even know you’re trying to tell
  him something

II. You burned him alive - taught him trauma
   is made by repeats - made sure that even
   lain in his childhood home he would not be
   allowed peace. You never looked twice.

III. There’s something in his body you’ve missed
    by just taking flesh

IV. You’re only into monsters - His lying, his
    claws, his teeth. Wait to be eaten.
Feeling Real Feb 2015
I. Sit with me on the cement
Test my mind
Fill my head with platitudes

II. Oh, the wonders of the body
Not yours, just mine
Leaving kisses on Weekday afternoons

III. I drink too much wine
Soft-core **** and Halloween binge
You tell me I am too much

IV. There wasn’t ever anything
But I had been held
You were too old, anyway

V. I can’t tell you how I admire you
Too often, I hope
But I am obsessed

VI.   *****-filled and hot chocolate
Defend my honor, cadet
Grow tall and stronger

VII.     How can I decipher
Your logic when I am drunk
How was I supposed to know you wanted to be what he was to me?

VIII.   Innocent laughter, we dance
I know not what to do
On your lap, with my hands

IX.   Friend, what we were
A blacked-out night
We finally kissed
Feeling Real Oct 2015
You only care when there’s a buckshot to your back
You only pause for the delivery, the action
The match has gone up and left charred the skin

The memory is still there, from years of solidarity
The repeated visits lend the permanence
And no more than an empty lot now, I leave

There once were 2 lilac bushes and a field for my dogs
We lock them in crates now, the outside is only a bathroom

I haven’t had the heart in me to unchain them
i don't actually abuse my dogs :)
Feeling Real Jul 2014
forced taste into sour mouth
no, sweet
fillers
static existence yet sun and moons
pretend the liars do speak great truths
masterfully woven
the tapestry
gypsy jewels and patterned art
mistaken for rewarding
left dull my watered part
nutritionally devoid
not punishment or repentance
the fast commences
acute
Feeling Real Jun 2014
She was finding it hard to not look at him. She was glad he was driving right now.
She noticed his hands for the first time. His face didn't betray his age. He was too colored, by experience or value, to have something so insignificant obviously displayed on his features.
He fiddled his hand over the steering wheel. She could see a few protruding veins. His forearms, still half-covered, showed skin that looked worn and weary, but heavily muscled. She wondered why she had ever looked to his face to find his age. It clearly was of less use to her than his hands.
He readjusted himself beside her, picking his left leg up and propping it up to his thigh in the drivers seat. The closed triangle lost her attention.
She looked to her own hand, wondering if the age was displayed in it, as well. Pale, fleshy, youthfulness; nothing marred by lines or dryness to meet her view. Perhaps, this was just a marker of work. She had done little with her time. He looked over at her for a moment, eyes grinning with what his mouth wouldn't dare speak. They lock eyes and when the contact breaks, continue to drift down the road.
"How old are you?" She asks him. The first words she had spoken to him since their physical encounter. He considers her for a moment.
"I'm 40."
"Oh."
"What?" He asks her.
"I don't know."
excerpt
Feeling Real Apr 2014
This poem is a place to purge my soul
of dark and sad and grievance old
tracing the timeline backward, away
to my life as a child, listless days
The men who won't have me
and the few who do
The hurting ache of physical roles
and the relief of finished holes
I dedicate this to a brother, half-awake
all the friends I've let go
for their little mistakes
and the hours every day I ran
while out of fuel through my ruined lands
For my inability to love or feel or wish
to the loser in my life who caused it
and my mother who feels the fault
and my skin that has scars self-inflicted
I have an ode to share with future self
wealth, health, and ache keeps you alive
it serves to remind
It is alright if you have already died
Feeling Real Oct 2014
function -- can't function
pardon me and words and eyes and my whole
world disintegrates and then just stays

waiting around me and my bedside
to gain affections or the attentions
of someone who knows nothing and is easy

to attach themselves to or with or inside them
manner exist, sure, but as what
as time or inches or abject qualities
Feeling Real Sep 2015
There is nothing harder than
Sleeping curled around fragments
Anchored into oblivion

Dream of foreign planets
Skies that open wide from day to night
Snuffing the sun out was a too-quick endeavor

I see his face sometimes, after drowning myself
I blame his face sometimes, for ever having been
I ache sometimes to flash to the ending

It would make sense that less is more
I would eat less if I knew it would shake my core
My convictions are flag-bearing ships

Who would sail to a new land to taste the sea?
Salt water poisons and I grate that hardness in me
It's the garnish on all of my meals
alludes to an eating disorder
Feeling Real Jun 2015
do i speak to ghosts
the pathological lies of those who fool me
and in dreams
do i see the darkness of ever-approaching
infinity
Feeling Real Nov 2015
Father said immortality was a wave upon which I came and crashed
And to embrace the ephemeral like the claws of the cat, a scar on my knee
That vanquished all of my fears of living safely, blood, and who knew
It would outlast the skin, down to the bone, down, past the soul, the cut
I would make many more as the years left me

Father said my willingness to learn was a godsend, that too many folks
Waste their whole lives pretending they have all the answers, and I said,
"And, Daddy? What about you?" And he told me that he knew everything, and
Somehow that didn't grate unexpectedly then, as it does now
He lied to me and I lie to the whole world to right that wrong

Father said that how fickle it was, how time was, how time goes, how he just
He knows, and he let me in on the secret, the magnetics, electricity
The undeniable, insatiable grasp when the whole world is in your hands
We traversed all of the United States in a semi-truck, only breaking to sleep
Only pausing to look out of the windows at an Arizona desert where, maybe
The Totem Poles were the spirits of the dead calling out to us to stay, just once

Father said I was supposed to eat and am entitled to growth, how delightful
Change is, and I embraced that philosophy with enough barbituates poisoning
Me I could finally feel the infinity that he talked about, and how he shied away
From the word God, and still talked about his childhood and his destruction
As if they were tangible things, he said he's forgotten so many details already
jusso you guys know half of this is made up and i would never in my whole life call my father daddy because my daddy kink would really **** me up like tbh i can't even think about calling my father daddy without wanting to **** lol
Sam
Feeling Real Oct 2022
Sam
He can touch me
Like I am a statue in his garden
To visit on every idle Tuesday, or holiday
Everything will turn to time

So I will let him feast on me, fearless
Wild, swinging vine to vine
Tearing smaller creatures apart
With just his teeth

We met at my weakest moment
And his highest pride
I am magnificent as a rainstorm
And just the same to ruin the daylight

I promise him nothing
But all of my nothings are cursed
To be sweet, nourishment
I am always so eager to fill his cup

I am only silent when I am too scared of the sound
Feeling Real Jul 2015
Make me a fictional character

turn my into your nightmare, your dream

As shadows lengthen the sun I

will lengthen my hold in you

Devote me to the recesses of thought

and bring me out when the need overwhelms you

I am whatever you want me

to be, and mold me into

the figure you want me to be

And strong like clay when you put me to fire

My desire to be the ideal

The thornless rose

The willing partner

And after the crime, one of your many

waiting alibis

Should any one inquire within

I am going to be the brick wall they are faced with

Faceless
Feeling Real Nov 2015
in the heady coffee smoke
and siren basking sunlight
dead casket reminding me
sleep is not a friendly beast
Feeling Real Nov 2015
You should be able to touch the shadows
Without losing yourself in them
You should line the edges in white marker so you don't miss it
The insistence of darkness and the pervasive
Void in your heart, just listen
When she told you, you were the only hope
The only witness left
Girls like her don't lie
Don't want for your confusion
They are the leaders
She could have been the matriarch
If she had a few more years to heal
But she embraced the shadows at the foot of the bed
Not even able to scream
It's okay, it's perfect, she's in the arms of her first love
Not able to breathe
Here you are, the years lined on your eyes
And between your fingertips
Cradling the difference in the shades
The lightness you can't bear to be
Justice for your wrongs
You try and find yourself no less a creature
You missed the transformation! You're a monster now!
You feel sickness
It's in all of your bones and blood and nobody
Will dare relieve you of the ache
No amount of distance changed anything
And he was the last hope you had
So you killed each other and you lived together
But not even shared bloodshed
Could heal the mess you made
Between your birth and the disaster you braved
I hate this but i'm keeping it up for nostalgia's sake. maybe i won't hate it when i'm 80 please don't judge me
Feeling Real Jan 2014
I'm wasting time again
rather than giving in to temptations
that leave me guilty
wishing I'd had forethought
or the will to resist

I'm on the mend again
insisting I am no longer deprived
though I love to be light
and everyone who pays attention would notice
as I climb or fall by inches
|
Feeling Real Dec 2015
12 am, white summer night
Abandoned playground, warm Coors Light
I say, "I'm so nervous, let's play like this
Have some fun on the swings or slide."

You say, "Are you not ready? I've already
wasted too much time."


I guess it's funny, telling lies
Because I liked you and you liked to be liked
He gave me catnip at **** price
The ******* ******! I thought
Everything was alright

He said, "Don't get older, don't get cruel"
Like he had the power to
**** his ***** ***, that's not cool
But I got a bottle and a few

Sneak out or play nice
My basement is less entertaining
Than walking the night
Sneak out or play nice
You can try to follow me out if you'd like
Sneak out or play nice
I went with my best friend the first two times
Sneak out or play nice

I'm embarrassed to say we never felt quite like those nights again
It must be something that flees as soon as it's missed
using colloquial terminology because that's how i think and talk
Feeling Real Oct 2014
My artful deception
Not nearly done
The sweet divine is calling

The normal precession
Left to right & big to small
I fall backwards

Shadows cut lines
In perfect enchantments
A poet's lullaby

Meaning in nothing
Everything is one thing
Look into my reflection with me

Gravity is sickened
Falling sideways
Swaying to the beat

Consciousness clouded
Each footfall is massive
Echoes into all matter

Floor as my witness
Collapsing in slowly
Push back on me

Pause for a slowing
Deliberate growing
Our solidarity as fuel

But what is living without barriers
Or a body without hard lines -
My angles are fine

Each purple and green finger nail
Bruise or coloring book
Endangered organs

Wrap me up in cold
Or create me a mold
Something to fall into

My creation is lazy
In colors I am blind
Feeling Real Jan 2014
To take up less space than you currently do seems deceiving
It announces the decision to all who care to know
You are always only a self
The condition of the body serves no purpose to the self
only to those viewing it
So, to what end does this physical reduction cease being an observation?
One could imagine that the physical aspects of an individual were indeed their character
but such is merely fantasy
After the desired state is achieved, the self
unmarred except by the result of the change
still, separately exists
Feeling Real Feb 2014
The butcher at Ken's is a psychopath
Whom has eyes especially for one
I, intrigued, approach
and the opening of truths commence
I, indeed see ****** and revel in such
Inescapable madness of the best kind
Feeling Real Jan 2014
A funeral at 8 years old, with no attachment felt
I dissociate, realizing mortality for a moment
and fall into the monotony of routine and life
a protection of fragile ego and, possibly, sanity
A thought, inescapable, I will die. One day I will
no longer be here. So what of existence, and what that of reality?

I live in a denial of truth, lingering in my youth
far beyond what I have ever expected
I am really going to grow old and wither
My molecular structure will be the destruction
If I can't figure it manage to find a way to save myself
because when I die I'll find out absolutely nothing
*What will happen to my consciousness, all that is really me?
Feeling Real Jan 2016
I feel sick with the witness
Silk on silk, silt on fur
Hard wet dirt grains in the fabric

Pour buckets from branches
The tree-line at dusk reprimanded
Tellin' us we oughta walk away

Daylight has never been more friendly
Winter air whipping us like old friends
We never stopped at the warning

Ice-covered watershed and deep cold blue
Feeling Real Nov 2015
It feels like wind whipping through the darkness
Looking up at trees without leaves, through branches
Right into the cold black of oblivion where the sea
Parts and cradles and sits waiting patiently
For all life there ever was to end, for just a break
It gets so busy when everything happens all at once
Dizzying, drawing attention back to street corners
And cars bustling past the stragglers at 3am
Who can't decide if they would rather be living or dead
And instead settle for the nothingness between the two
Lounging on couches, covered in nosebleeds and picking at scabs
Longing for a youth that has been replaced by bitterness
You had a teacher once who told you that life spoils you
There has to be great care taken you don't die before you rot
He waxed on about power lines and the role of money in politics
And promised he was the supreme specimen, rational
But he forgot to look up at the stars at night, to remember
To inhale the smoke that's never visible, to exhale white winter frost
He never left behind his body in the pursuit of understanding
I miss him and the legacy, the promise of materialism
Everything seems so pointless from this vantage
Feeling Real Oct 2014
I am hungry for infallible
Disastrous possession
Avoidant personalities
Violent narcissists
And angry pedophiles

I, narcissist
I have asked for this
Inattentive guardians
And half-baked characters

This willingness of mean
Wild and violent
Watch me fall asleep
And take out your mindlessness
Feeling Real Jun 2014
Do you remember anything
From when we stole the car and drove across state
The time slows so far down
That time still replays
alright, okay, it's fine, it's fun
Nature is a part of all of us, you remind me
Because I forget anything about the world I'm in
Could you hold me up again
Because I haven't touched my plate
I could let go of everything but this, it seems
Just hold on tight and get out of your dream world
okay, alright, I'll be alright
Feeling Real Dec 2015
I've got the microfibers by a thread
Just keep unraveling-raveling
Maybe I'll wind up dead
Just got the mad old man by his finger
Three of mine wrapped around his bigger one
He's got the best idea, eyes wide in fear

I think he is the one

But he's not real, he's just a rake
There's no siren spell
He just sits and waits
And that awful lap is big enough for two

I never ask because he would want to

Why so rotten, my baby tooth
Wiggles around and leaves me
Sugar, sweet, a 200 dollar treat
Take me to the store sometime

He'll take me out to play sometimes

I never find - There's no one else
Who watches me like I'm something else
Ethereal, flaming, god-like wanting
I am something special

*I am something else
Feeling Real Apr 2014
I could write about happy
subtle things
loving eyes
and the miniscule freedom
it applies
But I love to hurt
it has beauty, too
What else is deeper
and the most honest truth?
Happiness is fleeting
even amongst the most cues
Sadness, true hurt
paralyses and wraps itself
down the body, past the spine
into your being
into your soul
and it lasts
much longer than ache
or a smile
for a sweet, long while
Feeling Real May 2014
Mutterings
between whispers
among friends
Unlike the brazen
hope fills these interactions
but flees
Nothing stays
Stillness, long enough
to mark itself
as corporeal

I hear things
Decisions
Exacted morality
against tradition
lies new buds
A field of flowers
to blossom, come summer
If even it bothered
to share heat
and enlighten us creations

Such natural place
among sky, trees,
scurrying of critters
None specific or named
but said to be dangerous
to we blossoms
Standing tall on thin lines
a massive weight
We are just alive
acting peasants
still, pleasantries
I believe in nothing
I am flesh
I bleed, not green
or flowered petals
To decorate this decay
naturally
this solves nothing
and is too clear
A preference of metaphors
to my honest fears
Feeling Real Mar 2014
Can I
itch or scratch me away
to reveal anything
a youth
some truths
someone else
Can I
have this essence
experience and my mind
but let go all else
reduced to naked skin
made for him and his sin
Can I
hold old ideals up
on alter, unaltered
religiously revered completely
Black and dull beyond measure
just circumstantial
by birth
and disgusted
Can I
resolve that ache
and wake, new
not prisoner of body
Self-made misery
subject to looks
and wordless stares
I
stripped of me
what am I
Can I
a slightly parting mouth
closed eyes
Shut away inside
until life redirects
and time reverses
I
No longer I
Can I
have nothing else
Recollect
No recollections
I should mention
there's no family
or ugly girl
No more to see
Pecola
I
Just I
Blue eyes
like I always knew
Can I
Creative Writing assignment. Perspective of Pecola Breedlove, a character in Toni Morrison's novel The Bluest Eye.
Feeling Real Jul 2014
of course, i'm alright
i've just got my drunk vibe on tonight

i don't know who i'm with

i'm on top of the world, lights flickering

a burning taste, a sweet embrace, follow me down
Feeling Real Sep 2013
The season dies
in lampshade light
I crawl from the shelter
I have made in bed

My intent is shrouded
like the sun is clouded
I know I felt her
before all of this

It was convincing
she insisted
on an expensive retreat
from the earth, as it is

So while the plants sing
and the intuitive collapse
in heaps
Sonne laughs at the bruise
she creates and keeps
Feeling Real May 2014
Acting in pageant
Passive elective
Done no wrong
No lies
No singing of songs
Life, today
Leaves
Lackluster
Musted-over
Lingered over
Every thought
Each want
Undone
As time unwinds
To each his own
Each leaf a throne
Avoidance every
What now
Can I do
Will I go
Through
With
The
End
I
Desire
Of myself
Feeling Real Feb 2014
A man to love a man
while I am here
staking claims on all
that I do not have
I will not possess
I  abhor the thought
I rise and dress
thinking only of a mask
Sanity or brains
clever thoughts in a train
Ha ha!
and no one will tell
except those I tell
and there will be naught
I am wiser than that
until second thought
Feeling Real Jun 2014
i.
I can't feel anything
What is physical and what takes brain?
It's okay, or so I've heard
I could pass time by daydreaming or going out of my mind
I promised someone I would learn to let go
I promised myself I'd never ease up
I know I'm lying to somebody
But I refuse to believe anything

ii.
I thought that I let go
I can't see
I told someone to help me
and it got me nowhere

iii.
Have you ever started to dream
And been unable to find a way out
I know it's not the smartest thing
But reality is so much of a let down
You could try to follow me home
I would not stop you
If you happen to knock me out
Well, I'd enjoy whatever happened in the fall out
Cause there's nothing I want more
I want to feel you on the other side of my door

iv.
Have you ever seen the sun shine
When you couldn't see the clouds or the blue sky
No I never have, no, I never wanted to
I guess that's just me

v.
I don't know what I should feel
Could you explain something to me
What is an emotion
And what is real to more than me
I want money
I want love
I something more than what I have
Feeling Real Sep 2015
Dally the seconds into hours or months
And let the itch take you away
The home you’ve known you grew up alone
Missing allowances from the daze you’re in

You keep your feet up off the carpet
The white **** you’ve been begging to clean
The dirt stains and wine spots are all there is and then they’re not
All permanent fixtures are your wealth to be seen

We put the weight in rotten boards
Under the baggage and in with the dirt
The secrets are bound in leather notebooks
We burned them before we got caught in the words
The danger is losing yourself to a man’s coy looks
I’m scared of the hollow in me
I ask it to be filled and they always comply
But my demons need room to breathe
I evacuate the air so they can multiply
Feeling Real Nov 2015
I have carefully tailored my gaps
To be visible in only morning light
When I shrug off blankets and
Switch off the lamps, I find the
Air seems much more inviting
Much less frightening
Feeling Real Jul 2014
I can account of scarcely more than my own perception
My clever tricks keep me swift
I can approach without falter
As long as I must not review or alter
The notions on which I exist

While conversing with myself, I mention
A series of eerie similarities of things that be
To render useful ambivalence I ignore myself
I disregard whims, wants, and health
Finally, yes, all is clearing
I can see
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