What foul deed
do these fools decree
to submit to this
madness that you see?

Blades of grass,
knives of steel,
bullets that feel
no more or less real.

Pain is reaped
like wheat with
the reaper’s scythe .
As loved one fall
on into
an endless night
while leaders
claim the right
to order us
to fight.

Our fallen kin
lies therein
victim to their whims,
profiting the wealthy
more than the starving
children and women.
While nationalistic rhetoric
leaves stranger thundering
bellowing broken justifications
our new leader elect
just goes on a vacation.

He was
unmovable
as the mighty mountains
that mourned
the melted caps,
sitting six feet away
from six feet under,
refusing to yield to
the unforgivable weather,
unwilling to leave,
unable to cry
because all that was
buried within
had withered and died.

Someone you love dies it is a tragedy.
Two strangers die in your town is a tragedy.
Ten strangers die in your states a tragedy.
Twenty-five strangers die in your country is tragedy.
Two hundred strangers in another country die.
You don’t even blink an eye.
How the hell does that work?
It’s a tragedy that you don’t see it’s tragedy.

The river flows
As subtle as a golden rose
Scent straining to reach
Any receptive nose
Firing weird wiring
Synapses flare and glow
I fall into the clutches
Of what all dreamers know
Time and space is vast and fast
But I am small and slow
Beating back the wild waves
Shrinking as much as I grow
Such a sparkly little speck
How little I truly know

Woman
My heart could have no better muse
Nor harbor any happier hope to pursue
So solid flames burn
So embers start to turn
To diamond skin
Auburn and porcelain
Strength and purity
Essence of humanity
A smile a look
The pales character from every book
Hands that dance
Across keyboards and
Can carry anything
That makes my spirit sing
With love and harmony
From a distant or up close
Wearing rags or designer cloth
Mostly flashy fashion
Leaves me gasping
She is the summation of my admiration
A collection and convergence of perfection
Though that word is limited by my perspective
She stands so far out from the collective
That I cannot help but fall in line
Behind this human dream of mine
She is woman full and flowering
Still growing still becoming
And what she will be
Is more than a mystery
The potential I see
In her eyes anything is possible
To me she is unstoppable
Almost too good to be true
Woman, my heart sings to you

The white side
Is not the light side
But a crown
Of discontent
That breaks
Beneath
The winds
Which sought to bend
Good men
To its will
To take the beauty
Of diversity
And classify it
As binary
Good and evil
Dark and light
Black and white
Brown and Caucasian
People displaying
Undue bias
As hope falls
Off the flat side
Of a cold cliff
This classification
Is the opposite
Of what I wish
But my brothers
Swim and sink in it
Like broken fish
Blood fills their gills
With ignorance
While I wonder
Why they do not see
That brown
Is just another shade
Of you and me

1.
Winter holds no pleasure
When life lay dying
Or merely dormant sleeping
Plants fall, withering away
From cold and bitter frost
Which bites viciously at my flesh
Numbness creeps upon my limb
Congestion fills my lungs
Fever plagues my flesh
A limbo between life and death
White powder like, water crystals
Fall and scatter across the landscape
Blizzards blinding me with their fury
2.
Cold winters touch
White powdered death
Smothering the earth
Brown grass dead or dying
Life has been forgotten
The spring and summer ease
Of living now becomes
A harsh tribute to survival
Baby’s death first and last breaths
Stillness settles upon their limbs
Mothers cry while father work
Hunting for any vestiges of
Food or firewood
Winter

My last dance will be an inspiration
Hands to hands tightly intertwined
Music deeper than any revelation
And all done in my own time

My last meal will be very delicious
Sampling a bit of all of my favorite things
And being my last, need not be nutritious
Humming with flavor cause you know it makes me sing
My last slumber will be the deepest I’ve known
Dreams will no longer come at all
My essence thus departed receding from how I’ve grown
So there will be no me left to recall

My last conversation will never be my last
Though my bodies may fade
Becoming only an echoe in the past
My words will remain to be remade

Revisited over and over again
It may not be immortality
But it is as close as I can come my friend
Words etched in the collective unconscious
Until humanity ends

There is a little kid crying in the corner begging to die.
I know his face and the reasons why he tries to commit suicide.
Little boy struggling to breathe through the sobs and tears
Wants to forget the proceeding years wants to ignore the fear
Wants to deny the lies he hears from his angry mom who is
Screaming violence in his face ripping security from this place.
I want to tell him that this will pass cause I know it will;
Say that there is something better coming, but that’s not how I feel.
I want to cradle him in the comfort of a calm future,
Rock him in a chair of certainty till he slumbers knowing for sure
The world will not continue to hurt him, that people will love him,
But I know that those tragic trends will happen again and again.
Lovers will leave, deceive, while family and friends fade too fast.
Poetry will help, but he will still wear the scars of the past
Knowing that strangers are safer than those human traitors,
Who promise hope, who hide behind friendly gestures.
I want to help that little boy, but he is me and I cannot break free
Of the shadow he casts.

A dark numbness
comes creeping.
It is a deeply draining
Autumnal day.
The black clouds
part and weep
salted tears of red.
The grey stones,
perfectly planted
in awkward rows
mark the resting spots
of the decaying dead.
Each rock reads
thin identities,
shallow impressions
pointing to passing affections,
remembered by no one,
but random passerbys.
The day dries
and the grey, white
clouds die.
Now a bush bleeds
crimson colored leaves.
While other small trees
bereft of leaves
wear red berries.
a brown orange leaf
hangs precariously
from an otherwise
bare branch.

This is not some poem. This is pure truth. Right now I am crying , because no matter how hard I speak and write love my country keeps arming up for war, and attacking the army for its vile acts of barbarity is apparently like attacking a religion because people worship the military and soldiers.
How many ******* times do I have to cry love while other cry war till people listen. I am so emotionally exhausted but my pain is irrelevant compared to the victims of America's policies which are almost always enacted in the interest of the wealthy.

I never had to hide the fact that I liked that
Never had to cower and feel ashamed
Feel like I had a desire that needed to be tamed
So why the **** do you think
That just because of who someone loves
They should have to suffer that way
----------------------------------------------
Sometimes I don’t know whether to cry
Or to get ******* ******
Is it something that I missed
Is it too hard to be humane
Will being fair and kind
Cause a blood vessel to burst in your brain
And now I find myself at a loss for words
All I can think is **** **** **** **** ****

Adonais, thine eyes crushed, bleed like watery wine.
Bruised flesh, spoiled spirit, heart broken.
Tears flow faster and farther than any river,
Raging against futility, suffering your insanity.
Your are beautiful, so full of the luster of youth,
So innocent, so unique, and so freaking stupid.
Wear your folly like a cracked golden crown
Vanity chaining you to a dead path
Rocks and dirt, pretty pebbles and thorns
Bleed your tender bare feet.
You hunger for truth but in your youth
Would not know it really?
Adonais sweet brother of mine
You feel betrayed because I strayed from your side,
But I was once Adonais to.
I walked similar shades of life as you.
Now, you become a brighter reflection of the shade I am.
Your agony rages are like red hot irons
Your sobs fill my heart with sorrow.
I cannot save you, but will not be faulted for trying,
And though we are living, cannot be faulted for crying.
Adonais one day you to will feel your soul dying,
And find yourself reborn newer not better,
Dryer not wetter.
Oh my dear sweet stubborn Adonais
Only time will tell,
But you are special now and will be then as well.

I sleep but even in my evening slumber
Hear the sounds of summers coming thunder
Cringing and receding from the screeching sound of screaming
Mother earth beseeching while her creatures keep retreating
Scorch marks scar the fragile dirt
Pox and plague for self centered worth
Rain drops heavy as anvils
Hitting ******* my ceiling tiles till
They plunder my vacant eyes robbing them of their wonder
I turn to my tormenter screaming at the thunder
Be gone foul tempest haunt me no more
For I am but a fragile human being and you’re a superior storm
With your vaporous manifestation shocking presentation in fluid form
The storm replied shattering the stillness of my life
With a bolt two feet to the left of me that seared my eyes
Sockets dry the storm left no tears to cry
Singed I sobbed silently heaving and weeping
**** you nature

Fast music makes
my mettle burn
in  mercury
melted silver liquid
drips.

I slip
into the knot of it
facing the full fury
of the furnace
that boils
the insides of me.

I am unleashed
temporarily
the darker parts
that tend the spark
of my violently
beating heart
are set free.

Till, like my emotions
the music subsides.
The rage does not die,
merely simmers
to a soft boil
waiting for its turn
to burn baby burn.

A gun that scars the shooter
is the perfect metaphor
cause no soldier leaves battlefield
without the wounds of war.

It is over. I turn my head in shame.
Shoulders fall and I feel the defeat;
Found this corner to call my place,
and these calluses are for my feet.
Body weary from work I despise.
My mind worn down from these
political, social, and religious lies.
I turn and walk away from this day,
because I cannot stop the killing.
I cannot stop the bombs that drop,
or all the bullets that keep on flying.
I cannot stop a man from joining the clan,
Or bombing my brown brothers;
****** my sisters, destroying our mother.
I trip and stumble start to mumble
“What the hell is wrong with me?
Why can’t I make them see what I see?
Why can’t they see and believe in the beauty
In the human spark raised in dignity,
The blade of understanding sharpened by diversity?
Why can’t they listen with my ears,
hearing the music of people that I hear,
the pleasant sound of a foreign accent,
the learning of something new even if it is by accident?”
I turn my head not only in shame but ashamed of
those who I love but for whom love is not enough.
Those who cough and sputter spitting vile barbs of hate,
Who rage and waste these precious days,
Not really hearing what it is I am trying to say.
Crossed flags and burnt crosses,
Lines only few dare to cross and the tragedy is,
we are all in this together.
I turn my head to rest it on my pillow,
because today I am tired and heartbroken,
but tomorrow I will be better.
I can only fall so far till I rise again.
You may be my enemy now,
but an enemy is just tomorrow’s potential friend.

She dances with veils of fire,
Walks on wild waves.
What aches inside should not be so dire.
She soars with eagles and dines with doves,
The closest thing to a perfect love.
Green eyes glowing with druid magic
Red hair flowing like angry flames.
In and out of strange caves, and portals,
Yet I do not even know her name
I pursue her, in my weakness
Struggling in vain
Enraptured, I am trapped
Her long pale legs striding
Dreams living and dying
Arrows and swords
Dragons and unicorns
I would wrap her in fairytales
Spread kisses gently across her thighs
But these dreams I keep to myself
Cause I haven’t found my **** elf

I seek that sickly sweet suffering
Those tragedies that feed my writing
The knots in my stomach the tightness in my chest
Buried so deep but I need them to express
The purest poetry spawned from my essence
Take their forms founded in pain's presence
I need it more than nourishment
Such a sick and brutal self punishment
I leverage the scars on and in my body
To the art in all of her glorious purity

I do not pledge allegiance to a flag
But dedicate myself to eradicating hate
I sing love, love, love, love
Knowing these words will never be enough
To raise the dead but if I can raise a head
That has been hung so low
Take one heart that does not know
That it does not beat alone
But taps in chorus with the rest of us
I pledge to write to the heart of us
Till we are synced in purpose
I will not give you some sappy slogan
Or worship a cloth symbol
Which is not even half as red
As those strangers who bled
To pretend they defend righteousness
Imagining liberty can only be defined by this
False crucifix sacrifice, I drink to life
Pledge that you will not die un-mourned
That words will not set sail unmoored
No matter if your gay or straight
Mexican, American, or poor
Brown or pink skinned
I will not give in to the only sin
That I recognize,
As **** crow thrice I will not deny
I will rise
And pledge allegiance to love

Reflection leads to regret
For what I have and haven’t done yet
Time tripping me up in its urgency
How many days are there left for me
The clock doesn’t run against but works with times tidal wave
Resistance is the only way I know how to behave
But I am only mortal so I suffer as its slave
Tic tock past the clock even the sun will not stay still
Planets spinning there will be an ending to all I feel
And though the metronome may keep a rhythmic tone
I am more chaotic, lay dying just to live and thrive alone

We are all sycophantic suitors of death
Chasing that wasting rot and decay
In a roundabout sick sort of way
Suckling the toxic *** of excitement
Rushes and blushes demure and debasement
Faster and faster till haste becomes more than mere waste
Diligent drug users ******* up smoke laced with nicotine
Embracing and tasting various brands of caffeine
Red meat and carbs pretty woman and fast cars
Working to **** much and playing twice as hard
Climbing mountains, hunting new types of prey
Starting fights riding wild and rough waves
Too much sun or not enough UV rays
Waking up early and going to bed late
Silence and stillness is not the enemy of the state
But we are all just chasing the only thing that could be called fate
We all die to **** young but I’d like to check out late

We are all sycophantic suitors of death
Chasing that wasting rot and decay
In a roundabout sick sort of way
Suckling the toxic *** of excitement
Rushes and blushes demure and debasement
Faster and faster till haste becomes more than mere waste
Diligent drug users ******* up smoke laced with nicotine
Embracing and tasting various brands of caffeine
Red meat and carbs pretty woman and fast cars
Working to **** much and playing twice as hard
Climbing mountains, hunting new types of prey
Starting fights riding wild and rough waves
Too much sun or not enough UV rays
Waking up early and going to bed late
Silence and stillness is not the enemy of the state
But we are all just chasing the only thing that could be called fate
We all die to **** young but I’d like to check out late

If Sylvia Plath
Had come to me
For a ****** reprieve
Or a living loving embrace
I would have raced
To face that lovely face
I would have chased those
Dark and tempestuous eyes
To find passion release
To share one moment of peace
To hear her heart speak
With beat after beat
Even if she broke mine
If she attacked my limbs
Assailed my spirit with her fury
Even if we had to make love in a hurry
None to ever be the wiser
And maybe in the morning spend
Words and verses
Like counterfeit forms of affection
Well, that would be better
Then the release of any *******

It is just a word,
This nameless tide
That we decide
Should give us pride
This piece of land
We portioned off
With weird
Property lines
To define
What is yours
And what is mine
Who we are
And who they are
It could have been
Called anything
The name does not
Make it distinct
Nor craft a creed
Of perfection
For the world to see
Because it is just a small piece
Of a bigger thing
With a different name

Just so we are all clear. We all have a vested interest in equality and fairness. What harms a strangers can and is harmful to us. Our social interest are intertwined. So I would advise us all to engage in acts of kindness on a daily basis.

The wind and snow rushes violently against my window pane
It sounds like a new kind of melody so I play it over again in my brain
As the cold from outside slowly creeps into my bedroom
It kind of feels like a frigid and frosty tomb
My feet begin to go numb as the warmth is drawn from
My beating heart and is expelled outward to my skin and beyond
It seems to dissipate into the dry air in my apartment
So I am trapped in this solitary snow confinement
Natures has denied me her grace and cool love
Even my mind is slowly consumed by the lethargy of
The inability to escape my frozen grav

This is for all the crazy people thinking that they were made to rule
Walking around with ray ban glasses wearing Armani cause  it’s cool
Believing that they are so much better even when they act like a tool
Don’t give in to the status symbols that people keep making
You think that this is what you’re made to achieve but your mistaken
This is for all you lazy people slumming around and wasting your day
Life isn’t something that you get to do over and over again
There’s always someone out there who could use a friend
And don’t forget there’s a million ways to be a better person
Then standing around debating shuffling lies and cursing
Don’t you know life isn’t a stage for rehearsing
If you’re not trying to make it better than your just watching it worsen
I know you think that it’s so hard to make any improvement
But all it starts out with is a little social movement
This for all the silly dreamers dreaming of a beautiful world
Refusing to just sit back  take it while violence and hate unfurls
Don’t give up when they try to tell you that you’re stupid
You got so many arrows of change so be the heart of cupid
And shine your light of love all over the place

There are to many layers

Locks to long
brown with only
a hint of grays to come;
I tell the young lady
please buzz it all off
and make it one
size fits all.

Sandpaper bristles
scrape against
all my grains.
I shave it to find
a familiar face

Water washes away
the filth of
a long work day
but my face
does not betray
the truth
of who I am
or was.

I peel back the years
one wrinkle at a time
as the red lines
recede from my corneas,
as tan becomes pale
and winter pale
breaks down to
summer bronzes.

The weight rises
and recedes
more frequently
then I care to admit
as I struggle to get
back to the core of it.

I shrink,
an implosion of sorts.
Losing memories,
losing words,
losing time,
As I struggle to find
the essence of me.

I go back to the zygote
then split that
and watch those halves
retreating.

As two human beings
Go from needing
to never meeting.

Then back to
the primordial ooze
that glowing goo
that ungrew
to undue
protein patterns.

Then space dust becomes
the unbanging
never attaining
the pure essence.
There is more
but it is a journey
of eternal regressions
that never finds
an end in my mind.

I think there is something wrong with me
for I cannot love as deliciously
or deeply as I used to.
I cannot be swallowed by the hope of
unconfirmed fictions I once called love.

There is a still an inkling of
fierceness that wants to clench someone
so tightly to my body that we become one
wet with the desire of perpetual ****** motions.

I am broken for the shadow kin still sleeps within,
longing to uncover soft warm pale skin underneath
her ******* lacey dress, and thin white sheets.
I still long to let my fingers swirl,
submerged in a wetness of that beautiful girl
gyrating as our tongues vibrate with
the sweet sexiness of her pink part lips.

I am broken because I would let her
harness me, riding to find whatever she needs,
bending my tongue to taste
sweet strawberry juices from below her waist.

But that will never be.
I am broken because I no longer believe
there is anything less then
masturbatory fantasies
left for me.

Such vehemence
For immigrants
Border patrol
Vigilance
I never knew
A human being
Could be illegal

Why were cops and robbers
Cowboys and Indians
Soldiers and soldiers
Super Heroes and villains
So entertaining
For the remaining
Of our childhood

1.
A child should never be taught to hate
And human beings must never be insulated
Or inoculated against the horrors of war
2.
There is no liberation in this economy
Debt is a slower and slightly greyer
Variation of slavery
No more cotton fields but prison labor
Tell me where is our great modern emancipator?
3.
You may be shocked
But the truth is
We are strange variants
4.
There are no perfect promises
Life guarantees nothing
5.
Tears of laughter
Veil tears of frustration
Improper reflection
On taboos and tragedies
Burning cities
And dying loved ones
This is not where the
Laughter comes from
But it is where the laughter
Is needed most

I made a list
To organize
The things I needed to do
And the things I want to
Finding much to put to task
Like phone calls
And all the questions I had to ask
I put them down one at a time
And lost the list
While making up this silly rhyme

I’m not looking to date ‘em
Or wanting to hate them
Not bothering to debate ’em
But I am sick of the women
Who stick with the bad men
Cause they think they can change ‘em

Rush rush till the last blush
Of life dissipates
When stress no longer waits
When time abates
And you cannot delay any longer
Cause death is all that awaits

There is juice
bleeding from
The flesh of the apple
As my predator eyes
Lick the drops
That drip
And slip down
The light green side

I am hungry
so I bite deep and fiercely
letting the sweet pleasure
envelope me.

In my frenzy
I bite to deeply,
spit seeds
on the ground before me;
Hoping a tree
sprouts
so I can be
like Johnny Appleseed,
the progenitor of a new
delicious American dream.

I have never loved a truth
only partial lily lips
blushed with life,
a life that was projected
from previous experiences
tid bits of passing familiarities
extrapolated, fragmented,
then placed into an impossible puzzle.

That is the tragedy.
Though I love humanity
I have never loved the truth of her
only the illusion that she can never be
plastered in poetry
dedicated to me.
The lie fits perfectly into my dreams
so I sleep with
the hopeful heart of humanity
because that is the only love
that is true to me.

I am Bacchus intoxicated letch of the Greek Gods reborn.
In my drunken stupor I have fallen many times;
Succumbed to the charms of Goddesses reincarnate.
From the strict slick ice queen Shiva aka an engaged Christina
Destroyer of my soul, and its inspiration at the same time
Made me feel like your lover, should’ve seen the pain coming
Never should have let you in. In one fell swoop you cut my spirit.
With a cold stares you stabbed my stubborn stone heart,
And made me bleed agony like wine from a bejeweled chalice.
Christina, of all who cut me few had touched me physically.
You were hard to overcome, my cheap and ***** maiden.
Pale flesh tarnished with your many affairs before and after me.
Within a year’s time you had severed the emotional chord,
But there were others like the goddess Discord shifting seamstress
Of light and dark, daring dangers to inflame my heart.
User, trickster I will never really miss her, and her name will not be spoken.
My affections for her were merely a passing token. What a relief
That I never loved that immoral immortal ****** thief.
Amanda oh Amanda. My idiot Athena. My warrior queen.
My military goddess. We never consummated our love
Because you never loved me. With a whisper and a line
You kept me holding on; let you go one day and the next you would phone
Came back different then when you left, like a new you grew
From Zeus’ skull more powerful, darker than before.  For you I ceased to exist.
Rend my heart to pieces and instead I wished that I was dead.
That all those feeling could be shoved aside and never again remembered.
That your apathy had been fury and in your rage I was dismembered.
Jessica my dear Demeter harvester of my strange and deranged soul.
You were the first to slake my ****** thirst, hour lost to carnal lust.
I am sorry, that I was wired wrong and your love was not enough.
You deserved more than I ever gave you and of all my loves,
You are the only one who ever loved me back, so I am sorry.
Farther back than that is my greatest love swift and strong Artemis.
Actually I hope you never read or even see this.
Holly so holy a dream. With ***** red hair and freckled flesh,
With a kind heart that I will never forget. The first friend there to inspire my love.
The first soul I adored. You never wounded me, never scarred my heart
Never used, or abused, abandoned, or confused me with mind games or forgetfulness.
I will never touch you soft skin, or make you smile, but most of all I will never forget this
Yours was the first, the strongest, the deepest, the longest river in my heart, and the highest kindness.
For that you have many eternities worth of my love. The greatest goddess of all maybe
Your were actually Aphrodite.

Darkest black treading dirt
Left impression for their worth
White stripes across the side
Streak into the evening sky
Like a flash when I run
Flickering becomes a dying sun
Potential of what will never come
So I run, I have to run

Old laces dusted *****
Push them through the holes
In a hurry
Rushing now because I’m worried
The sound of sneakers pounding dirt
The sound of how much it really hurts
So I run, I have to run

The soles so loose
Sound funky when they flap
Still I love those messed up shoes
Which is why I’ll never take them back
When life is hard when it starts to sting
I turn around and start jogging
I am not a prisoner, I was born to be free
Even if all I have are these old shoes
To chase away those heavy blues
I will run until I am done
I had to run, I always run

Scattered things like lost souls
Scream their futility.
Trinkets and trash charged with endless possibilities.
Illusions of how life could be better so,
I collect scraps of waste masked as human invention
New technologies, toys, and other luxuries
Drive that dark spear of desire deeper into my being.
Want is a sickness, a fever that cycles on and off.
I have I want, I want I need, I need I get.
I get I have, I have I want, I want I need
A scary situation and in its pursuit
I place myself in painful positions
Paying with large chunks of my life.
I get more and as it become easier.
My urges get stronger and stranger,
Joy becomes that much harder to find.
Get it get it get it get it get it
Buy buy buy buy buy buy
Till the pile stacks up so high
That I live and die inside
The world of crap I bought.
Once I start it is hard to stop
And I become the sole possessor
Of this sick collectors disposition.

You could be a great book,
not the scriptures
that you do not read
but listen to too receive
imaginary blessings
Of abstract relief,

but in that time worn skin
under those arched eyebrows
there is a story brewing
written by doing
explored in the living
moment to moment.

The text is irrelevant
cause it will never stay in print
only be impressed
upon the breathes
of the ones you know.

It may
change and fade,
or change and grow.

The truth of flesh,

The warmth of touch,

The smell of sweat,

The sound of wet grass
shuffling beneath
cold wet feet,

The poetry of fun

The prose of those
whom we embrace
and others we fail to face,

The grief of loss,

Tendered to experience
So all can appreciate
the wisdom gained
from your mistakes

You can pass it down
in fragments
in whispers
out order
in facts or partial truths.
Because the best story is
you.

I do not trust a happy day
My mind recalls past patterns
And each time hope has come my way
Peeking past life’s parted veil
Singing songs of sweet tomorrows
The weeks that come are always hell
As are the all the years that follow

I do not trust a lover’s promise
For they can be given so easily
I have seen certain hearts shattered
When loving to carefree and happily
I know one cannot pledge eternity
Anything can be broken even the best family

I do not trust a possessor’s passion
Cause in pursuing owner’s pleasures
I have found all things are only passing
For the taking, to give, in the asking
We all tire of the new toy
Sweet things can rot away
Adding one more item to your pile
Won’t save you from your final fate

There is a far darker day ******* me
The shadows tight on my trail
Night will fall sooner than expected
So even when I smile, I do not trust myself
Moods will change, ebbing and flowing
With the winds that keep my armor
Flapping up and down so my scars are showing

The good is just a phase
Then again I could say the same thing
About the bad days coming
Neither are permanent
Only one thing is inevitable

I don’t know how to be normal and most times I don’t care
I could read for hours and contemplate the ups and downs of whats fair
But sometimes I feel a spark of despair
A deep dark longing or apathy beyond compare
Sometimes I feel like death would be grand
Who gives a **** if the normals wouldn’t understand
I get tired of this life and all of its pain
Of the suffering existence is a trifle insane
To walk through this life which is so **** mundane
What do I have to show for this trip but a broken heart and overactive brain

I stole her story.
She did not consent
to have her soul
torn to two
spread across
this earthly crust
then rendered again
in paper pulp.

It was a **** of syllables.
I took her breathes.
I took her lips.
Writing all the words
she whispered with,
I took her dreams.
I took her stars.
I took her thoughts
as though they were mine.

I savagely plundered
what was beating under,
not with ****** depravity
but with the gravity
of her dark and painful reality.

I stole her story
as she stole the razor.
I took her last seconds
as she took the tightness
of her wet skin,
plunging metal in
and letting red clouds
swirl in smoking form
under the pressure
of waters warm.

As the weight of life
pulled her head under
and porcelain edges saw
slick streams of diluted life
run over both its sides,
I pictured her truth
in my mind.

A fiction of strange proportions,
Life’s moist abortion
made into a poem
by some idiot
who could not forget
the same dark wet
dreams of
a steaming bathtub death
he wanted for himself.

I played and was betrayed for a pittance
Stayed in the parade out of persistence
Gave up all charades of any resistance
This is how I earned my own existence
-
By selling myself by shelling my soul
One inch of survival a day for no self determination
One loaf of bread to let them make me hollow
One stream of **** to shovel from this hovel

I prayed for redemption stayed in this place
Strayed from my potential to maintain my space
Let them flay me alive till my empathy was displaced
And I became a clone of their perfect human race

Just a shadow self of everyone else with no voice
And no real face

She takes off her top
to reveal her undershirt
to show off the scars,
flee bites,
and other red parts.

But there is something else
that cuts her deeper then
those bites and scratches.

She cries, and each tear
each sobbing breath
that stretches itself
is just an etching of
the lack of love
and the presence of
more tangible pains.

So tiny this tender spark
almost breaks my heart.
Dark hair spreads
down her face to her neck
brushing her tiny lips
and falling to her breast.

Teenage girl
crushed and uncertain
if the hurting she experiences
will ever find its end.

So like hash tags
and youtube video
her loneliness becomes
a trend.

She tries to sings.
She tries to write.
She tries to draw.
She tries to dance.

She lets some stranger
take her out at night
not on a date but to find the light
of some long dead guy,
cause she only relates to the dead
and anime characters in her head,
not the people who
cause her tears to soak through
past the sheets to the plastic mattress.

The gravel roads parts
splitting in the dark
of her macabre obsession.

She leans over the edge
of an invisible ledge.
Only her younger friend
can pull her back in
safely out of the wind
that was beating
down on both of them.

She is halfway between
today and yesterday
reigning in the rain that
longs to drown her
pulling her farther back
into the empty black.

Till I met you
I used to duel
with scores of
shadow men.

I dropped the
dripping wax
that burnt me
from within
the skin
of the mirror.

Night after night
I would watch
the monster
grow and grow
and wonder if
I could find a way
to end it.

Several times I tried
to ride that final ride,
to slide the sharper side
of my rusted knife
in my enemy’s thighs
or across his wrists
as he clenched his fists,
willing him to bleed out

But he would still follow me
and in the night I could see
reflections of this darker being
staring right back at me
with eyes as black
as whatever was on
the other side of the glass.

He spoke like me,
broke like me,
and even scavenged
petal free stems
with thorns
that ripped my skin.
Until you my friend
on whom I now depend
to keep me tethered
to my tattered sanity,
who helps me laugh
at my darker past,
came at last.

But if my past
ever comes back
and I have to see,
that face of hate
that haunted me
I hope you are there
waiting with me
cause a mirror
is a very dangerous thing.

Do not wait for me.
As troubling as it may seem
I babble on
breaking brooks
in my stone laden
dreams.

Do not stop
or slow a step behind.
Please proceed.
I hope you find
the peace of mind
that eludes me.

Do not carry me
when I fall.
For I am far to broken
and each shard
of my being
is a dangerous thing
made of
silver and sterling
nighttime daydreams.

Do not worry,
I was in no hurry.
While you rushed into
the death you thought you knew
I stayed behind
to enjoy this time of mine.

Do not look back.
Fear finds its own facts
and sadly I lack
that spark which knows eternity.
Unfortunately, there is only me
here in the moment
on my mud rock
that pirouettes space.

Do not stop.
Go on and rush to death
because heaven or hell
awaits your final breath.
I don’t mind
keeping my heaven and hell here.
Whilst you wither and disappear
I’ll enjoy the crystal clear
running water,
the clean skies,
the beautiful animals
that you cannot take with you
when you die.

Do not worry one bit.
I got this.
Just go on my dear
I’ll rest right here
because this is such
a sweet and wonderful
but one time only life.

Soft water falls
and hits the leaves
moving me
like the forces
each drop used to be,
wet recycled energy
that cleaved
stone formations
so slowly.