I want to write music;
I can do it.
But i can’t,
Because nobody will listen,
And i don’t know how.
But the melodies bubble inside me
Making me sick,
And i want to get them out,
But i don’t know how.
So i hum
So i mumble
So i listen to other people's creations,
Hoping one day to have my own
But knowing i wont.

Her presence twists inside me
Like poison and vines.
It strangles me
From the inside out.

It pushes up my throat
And spills my insides,
That cascade to the floor
In a mess of emotion.

Dry heaving, choking,
On my own lies.
Driven insane by
The ones I’ve believed.

She torments me,
Ripping my morale to shreds.
She scatters what is left,
Spreading out the tatters.

Her purpose is my demise,
Her dream in my insanity.
She goes by many names,
But here her title is “Guilty.”

he may love me,
he may not.
pluck the petals and
watch them rot.

those leaves of three,
let them be.
don't be who they
think they see.

your eyes
            are
          so explosively
   captivating
                    i feel like i
   float in space
                 every time
      your blue
                    and
                          my green
               collide,
    creating a new earth.

It’s so difficult to look at you
When you talk about our future.

When we laugh about growing old
Or more adventures in the cold.

To fantasize about the type of parents we’ll be
And how i’ll spill the family tea.

Or if you get married, and i don’t
I’ll be your kids crazy aunt.

About how we’ll share our entire life.,
And joke about being my backup
if i’m not married by thirty five

And all these futures that we make
Based of old memories that ache.

They look like a hope for the new
life i’ll be sharing with you.

Then college letters come in.
And ink drains from my pens,

'cause I’m just scribbling to preserve our youth.

Because we both know the truth.

but the moon is beautiful,
and in little over a month,
we'll be sitting under that moon on a mountainside,
far away from everything were going through now.
in a little over a month,
that same moon will sing us to sleep,
its soft lullaby blowing through the trees.
in a little over a month,
i'll be saying goodnight to you again.
and for now, i'll say goodnight to you,
simply, well, and plain.

running down the street
eyes glinting
illuminated by street lamps and stars
breathing hard

but consequences are temporary.

climbing shaky trees
ripping jeans
28 missed calls from my mother
but time with one another

because consequences are temporary.

gazing into black night skies
looking at your sea green eyes
the worst fall i've taken
so if i'm not mistaken,

maybe not all consequences
are temporary.

you make me do things
i know i should not do
and with the beat of thrill
i'll loose my rationale

because at least some consequences
are temporary.