I stared out the window
and looked out to the sea
to see that my wave of nostalgia
had been waved back to me

I swallowed the ocean's cruel reciprocation
like I swallowed my tears
both were salty and bitter,
reminiscent of all the nights where I had drowned in my fears

My sinking ship, are you still out there,
and are you coming home today?
and if you return from your world of blue,
will you leave after you get what you need, or will you come listen to all the things I have to say?

My love: the world is lonely, and the sky is crying
not even the flowers bloom in full content
the smiling sun is all we have left to mask the pain behind suburban gates, but it fails to assuage my only complaint:
when you stood on the shore and said that I was your anchor, you never told me just what you meant

Where did you go,
and do you even still care?
oh, my sinking ship, no matter how far you stray,
look to the waves and the sunset for me, for my heart is bound to meet you there*

-n.a.

insomniac to the weight of regret          
           I'm inclined to withhold.

I was just guessing.
Kept on turning to the right.
But you're face and my make believe persona of you drove me to the left.
Like a drunk driver behind the wheel, I had no control.
Yet I let you still over come me.
So I found you.
I let you in.
Me, myself have lived on this hell bound planet for 22 years, and still couldn't find happiness.
Past "loves" made these fossil creatures look like peasants kissing the ground their holy queen walked on.
And I was the king.
In other words, you held that throne.
That happiness I was so thirsty for finally quenched me.
You were my absolute everything.
We moved quickly but not with a care.
Blinded though if you may, in a way.
Our family seemed unbreakable cause our contract said forever.
My first true love you were and are.
How *** was always nothing but lust, or what I thought was making love was false.
Till I stepped in you're great door.
Our eyes would lock and no one would ever find the lost key to unlock them.
It wasn't just ******* or sensation.
But making love.
The greatest vice and feeling I would ever encounter.
A year since our fairy tale ending and still I fail to experience that or anything greater, with any woman who has came my way.
From what you weren't aware of was what my previous relationship left me as.
Which was a hidden monster.
So all I knew was how to react off of emotion instead of logic.
Our different ways of life and guiding our own spawns couldn't compromise.
So we started falling apart, like a castle slowly losing it's structured bricks.
Never thought I truly live a real nightmare and knowing there was no waking up.
Reality.
The plane took me away from our departure and still I wait for a new arrival.
From what it looks like it will never happen.
All I am is set for failure and survival.
You know you were my favorite?
I wish I savored it.
Sometimes I wish I could get amnesia so it wouldn't even be memory.
But how can I?
When you was and still are my everything.

You're all I hoped.
           But tergiversate gave me this
rope.

I'm so **** sick and disgusted of writing every poem about you.
            It brings me close to hatred, but that is an emotion I don't believe
                                      In.

The worst thing about being a poet
Is that you're drawn to pain
The pain and fear inspire
Great works and wonders
For those of us good with words

Some who are lucky
Can write well of all things happy
Those rare few

Most everyone I know
Write of pain
Pain and fear
Memories
Or we compare, criticize
This crap society of ours

Emotions fill us
We feel to the fullest
We might get scared
But it's not the pain we fear
We realize that pain leads us
Leads is to discover great rhymes
A nice flow of words
Words that help ease our minds

there'll be others just like you
only not like you but different
there'll be others that will dress better
there'll be others that won't pretend.
there'll be some that will listen to good music
and some that won't.
there'll be some that will understand the meaning of faithfulness
and hopefully none that won't care.
there'll be some that i won't be able to talk to about the meaning of anything,
those i won't stay with. i think.
there'll probably be some that i won't get to love,
only a few with which i'll share pain.

but really i don't want any of them.
i want only you with the crushing feeling,
and your terrible way to talk.

flower girl and jackhammer,
street worker, cigarette lighter,
desolation in death,
exhaustion in life, you can buy your desire for just a
noisy day
nowadays
he shoves and sells
and hustles about
and buries his grimy hand in his
hot pockets
hot hot dusty hell
There's a faceless woman eating helplessness
turn around to see fight
no fight in anyone's eyes
restless and old
and worn, like a worm