The outsider is inside,
Inside the house, staring from the crusted window,
The latch calls to her in rusty tones.
She stares upon its existence,
wishing nothing more than to answer.

But the outsider, she is inside,
Her back turned to what she’s built,
Her eyes upon those who are outside,
Can they save her? Would they care to try?

Her elbow rests upon the dusty sill,
Eyes glossy like Rapunzel, the Golden One,
But she has grown old inside the house,
she has grown blind and deaf and dumb.

The outsider, she once wished,
to leave the depths of her understanding,
to venture into the clashing world,
to face the blatant nature of love,

But the outsider, she is inside,
over much has cried, died and lied.
The weight of gravity holds down the fort,
and her as well; she doesn’t fight.

She holds the hope she’ll someday be tempted,
to leave that which protects her so,
to venture through the grimy view,
lifted by that which holds her low.

The outsider, she’s still inside,
Forever more, should she still hide,
You could say that she should have tried,
She wanted to, with all her pride
To leave that which keeps her inside.
To leave that which keeps her inside.

Annoyed, disappointed
More than the most.
I count days to lose your face
Across the west coast.
Letting the see breeze
Blow you away,
Abandon me stranded,
It's better this way.
Am I dumb?
Do we not mesh?
What happened before?
Maybe it's God
Just settling the score.
Because I don't have the strength
To do that anymore.

As Barista makes my Jasmine tea,
I write a little poem for me,
My hipster ***,
My thrift-store wear,
My hair's a'toss,
Without a care,
I wonder why
With all them here,
I feel at home,
I feel no fear.

Is this how they felt?
Those women, adulterous?
Those men, thieving?
Breathing in the bitter metal
Of their shackles,
Just before treading the welcome mat
Of Death?
I sit here, breathing,
Aware of the awkwardness of breath,
Fearing everything, when nothing
Threatens me within this night.
Still, I can't help but wonder
If my mind is crazed or
If human kind is crazed.
Which is it?
If reality does not exist
Without my perception of visible light
And awake consciousness,
Then isn't everything just a reflection
On the mirror in my mind?
If I slow down the shutter,
All is over-exposed.
If I warp my vision,
Sanity's window is closed,
And no breath of fresh air will I feel,
Until my body's decomposed,
And I'm floating freely in the dark...
It's normal, I suppose.

I really shouldn't have gotten ******.

The life a man does boast is but a tryst
Between the egos of his Cosmic gods,
Who jest at gnarly oaks and monoliths;
At twigs we humans foolishly are awed.
Yet such does not render us simplified;
Too great is Cosmo's pride in their amour,
But secrets we'll uncover, stratified;
Acceptance, such a silent petrichor.
So let the veil be lifted, let us see,
Existence as gossamer as the veil,
Fragile as the primrose, less the beauty,
On us, we hope, these Lover's dreams won't fail.
At night we dream of worlds beyond the stars;
Sits on their smallest finger, all of ours.

hole, hollow, cup
chest, breast, *****
drain, stain, empty
void, jagged, ragged.
Filled, still, treading
thick, dense, dreading
foreign, matter, matters?
broken, blood, letting.

             The world is ripe with words
                         void of understanding.

Be my baby canopy,
cover me in emerald joy
in gales and gusts, sprays of rain,
Be the shield I shan't employ.

By the seaside running out
of staggered breath, though you know
how cherry my cheeks do get;
hurry, kiss them while they glow.

Be the leaves upon my arms
Flutter, whisper, rustle down
Till all I am is but a noun
held in your mouth, your throaty charm.

Brave the hurricanes with me,
I'll be the one who will not fly,
You'll be the baby's lullaby,
above the rain, so anchoring.

Watch the window, hear it creak
above the pitter patter plain,
bathe in the sorrow of the rain,
come up cleaner, with a squeak.

Be the breath upon the hearth
breathe deeply so your lungs are warm,
feel orange among the grungy storm;
grow a greenhouse in your heart.

Follow me out to the Mar,
walking down into the deep end
and down reproaches Heaven will send;
the solemn tear drops of a star.

Up we go, and all around,
Spin with me, collapse and cry,
Until the clouds do say 'Goodbye',
All we hear are hearts that pound.

In the aftermath, it shines,
Angelic pools, a chorus clear,
The silver light plays softly here
like no one once had shed a tear.
Now my heart chokes water, dear,
So hold your pluviophile near.

What is another day?
What more could the universe
Possibly have to take from me?
Me, who gave up everything
For an escape from my consciousness.
The worst kind of criminal,
Lies inside these bones.
But I have yet to find
Anything worse for my path.
I sit here, and wait for him
He, who is never
Coming
Back.
I know this is the sentence.
But how long must I suffer?

What is this? Oh what is this?
My word, my Love, I thought I’d missed!
And in the darkened depths of deep,
I saw no light, but dreams in sleep.

Yet, hark! The blinding light of day,
For from the depths, I’d come away!
And in the water, pure and clean,
I float so softly down a stream.

Alas, thought I, must be a vision,
dream of Sublime with great precision.
As my heart sank, so did my body,
(subconscious world should be so haughty)

I struggled soft, now sitting straight,
the word around did not abate.
I looked in awe, what should I see?
My love there standing, smiling at me.

I ran to him, tears flying so,
we fell beneath the tulips, low.
We laughed and cried,
Groaned and died,

Beneath the flowering cherry tree,
Beside the stream, singing to me,
Below the sky of dreams to be,
Betwixt the tulips, thousand three.

Could this be true? Oh how are you!
I ask my Love, facing the sky.
He turns to me, his face is blue,
Shocked, but still, I ask not why.

And out of silence, this I hear,
disturb’d water, splashing thus;
I turn to look, and this I fear,
a darkened demon; run, I must.

Yet petrified I do remain,
the greatly grinning gargoyle barks,
I clutch my Lover’s hand in vain,
for he, still blue, is frozen, stark.

“What shall we have for dinner, say?”
Was demon’s question to be solved.
“I must ask you to go away!”
He cackles loud at my resolve.

And flies to me, hands ‘round my neck,
Somehow, now, my Love is gone.
Should I have kept my heart in check?
For love is what demons dine on,

Beneath the flowering cherry tree,
Beside the stream, singing to me,
Below the sky of dreams to be,
Betwixt the tulips, thousand three.

I'm rocking the lesbian ponytail today.
Smoking a cigarette on my break
Like the delinquent I am.
My looks don't fit the description.
But my actions speak louder than looks.
And as ashamed as I am
To be myself,
I can't help but be fascinated;
This is who I wanted to be.
Why?

Comedian's obsidian,
In this middle,
Meridian.
Koi No Yokan
Did it again,
But this time I'm not
Winning and,
Somewhere between
The *** and friends,
Lies the best Me
I have been.
The falling star,
The wishes sent,
Into the void,
We do pretend.
And in the middle,
Some obscure riddle
Do it again.
Do it again.

Cycles spinning,
Teeth bared in grinning,
This life was once so pure.
But everything
In crying eyes
Has made my my heart
Demure.
And once upon
A lonely time,
I believed this Truth:
That everything
Is meant to be,
But that means
So is sinning...

To say it was
"At first sight"
Would be a lie.
I can recall
The sweet look upon your face.
The good-intentioned cool guy.
The offhanded wave
You casually tossed in my direction,
When we were forced
To sit together in the office.
And that day
For the first time
I shaped your name with my lips,
And held your gaze.
I had no interest,
You were too cool for someone
Like me.
And I could never know you, really.
And all
Had
Begun.

The ashes fly
From their bowl,
The birdies squeaking
In their hole,
The jets that zoom
Aggressively by;
But I could flick them
From the sky.
The beach is tamed,
Picture the past,
Bulldozers dozing
Through sandblast.
The locals crying
For their lost cove ,
Two white men gloating;
In their self-made
treasure trove.

I needed someone like me,
When I first fell in love.
But instead, I got someone like him.
And when I realized I wanted
Someone more like me,
I ended up getting
Someone like who I
was.
And now
I'm someone like him.
And he (the new one)
Is someone like I used to be.
But never will be.
The first one ruined me.
He ruined me.
Or rather, I ruined me.
I'm sorry.

It plagues my memory,
As I try to fall.  
It holds me in suspense.
It makes
Absolutely
No
****
Sense.
Let it go.
Let it go.

And passing the place that I knew nothing of
I swear I knew more of myself in the aftermath of you.

Under the three lights of Linden I saw
the pages of my life flipped over by a careless wind

As I sipped my iced coffee, blankly staring
at my story as if I'd really rather be somewhere else,

As if I'd heard it all before, if it meant nothing to me;
It couldn't mean much because it didn't mean much to them.

But who am I? The three lights beg the question with ruddy faces
like that of my father at last night's awkward family dinner.

I answer with a grimace and a sound in my throat,
something close to a gurgle of a child and cry of a dog.

The night sky clouds sigh my name and the silhouettes of stars
whisper of the future, of fairies, of other unimaginable things.
So I wait for new beginnings in the town of all my endings.

I drove slowly down
The depths of the dusk
As she chewed on the stems,
I tried on the tusks.
As she entered high
And I crawled down low,
I wished for the truth
Of what she soon would know.
Oh what joys could it bring?
Patterns was she seeing?
I wondered in silence;
A sleepwalking being.
I admit I cannot,
Though I wish that I could,
Or not that I "can't",
Rather, if I should.
My stability's lacking
My sureness unsure,
Good trips need good backing
And a soul that is pure.
As of right now,
I am less than demure.  

So dull grey is life,
Forced laughter is love,
But the answer to existence
Lies in a questionable, edible drug.

There is no point.
The validation
I feel by
The likes I get,
The loves I missed
Because of
The screen in
Front of my
Eager face.  
Pathetic.
Parasitic.
Pointless.
Death to the social network.

I'm bored.
You're boring.
Fake words.
Fake smile.
The pipe.
Is filling.
You're real.
You're true.
You talk
With meaning
You mean it.
Finally.
I like that
Your innocence,
Of course, until,
I come down.
You fall to
The cold ground.

Ugh.

What are the words
I mean to say?
This drink, it flows,
Inside my veins,
And life, it moves
And flows for me
Yet worldly pleasures
Drive the weak.
As I long
To tell you these,
All I can say
Are words that please.
I love you
I love you,
Do I,
Do I?

Sweetheart, dream.
And listen on
To the stars that flow
From here
To beyond.

Hope filled my chest
Like a giant helium balloon.
Floated me around
From day to day
With a pointless smile
On my innocent face.
Hope for what was,
And what was to come.
Hope for the darkness beyond,
Hope was what I relied on.
And then I stepped out
In the dark.
And the balloon popped.
Left me broken on the floor,
My voice turned small,
High pitched anxiety,
Forever more.
Two years. Two years.
When, my friend,
Will this end?

All these ideas in my head
Just can't seem to come out.
It's like I'm a brilliant mind
Inside of a ******* body.
I just can't seem
To find the words.
This writer's block has been going on for years.
Please help.
Anyone.

I'd like to be burned,
to have flames lick my sides--
so when I peel away the skin,
see truths I have to hide.
I'd like to be burned
to have flames lick my lips--
so when I go to speak my truth
the rawness of it drips.
I'd like to be burned,
to have flames char my heart--
so when I go to love again
it's the newest of new starts.
Yes, I'd like to be burned,
But I am not so brave--
I wait and pray with all my heart
gods throw me to the flames.

Baby doll,
Don't keep them closed.
Eyes will see
What no one knows.
You leave the room
Of pain and light,
And come out to
Nothing to fight.
The rain begins,
Light cigarette,
And all your worries
You forget.
You don't know why,
in this bad health,
You decided,
Forgive yourself.

;

I once heard that sadness gave birth
To the greatest of art.
But where is the beauty in cold doom
And darknesss?
The beauty between the lines, perhaps?
The possibility,
Of some cracked conclusion?
To end all delusions, with either mental upliftment or demise?
Upon heavy thought,
I channeled this pondering to be written, only to realize that this is the answer to the questionable beauty in sadness.
'Tis only beautiful when seen,
And 'tis only seen when shown,
And most of us are too scared to do so,
Other than to type our stories here.
This is where beauty in sadness is born. This is the art it creates.
So to all my fellow poets,
To my comrade lovers of prose,
Fret for as long as you need to.
Your beauty is seen,
Admired,
Appreciated.
But let it be known that,
On the flip side of your mind,
The world sparkles, glittering
For all of those who pull their hearts up from the wreckage
to see it.

Yes, that's surely quite a few,
but you don't give a ****, do you?
To be quite frank, neither do I,
but sometimes I wish that I knew why.
Don't get me wrong,
I'm not depressed.
I rocketed out from that cannon
long, long ago.
Okay, two weeks ago.
Shut up.
Anyway, dear readers invisible,
I'm happy now, and it's incredible.
It was a door, it was a light,
that led me from the longest night.
And now my only taunting fright
is if my lungs will be alright.
For I was screaming so long and hard,
that now my voice is broken shards.
In retrospect, it was meant to be,
but now this mess, I have to clean.
I'd like to put it back together,
Ideally so it'd look brand new,
but I can't find any
super glue,
you don't happen to have some,
do you?
Hmmm.

Christ, fine. I'll do it myself.

The air is drifting
The sunlight seeking
The breath of my eyelashes,
Beating against
You're beautiful face.
The air is winding,
The clouds are spiraling,
Towards the horizon
Spilling out on this soil.
The air is fuming,
The funnel spinning,
And here we were,
Grasping to the Palm Tree,
For dear life and love.
The air is calm.
We tried holding on,
But all that is left,
Is no one but me.
And I realize,
It is not that you were torn away.
But I was.
And I am lost.
....I am so far from home.

Once more unto the breach,
dear friends;
We tremble, we
withdraw our pens
We sit still, listen
Calm, collected
To prove our brains
Have not defected,
Once more letting them teach
Our heads
We caw and flutter
Fresh from beds.
We wait long, patient
Trudge the trenches,
to stave away
Failure's stenches.
Once more, until we meet
Our ends;
Continue calling
What luck might send,
We want most, if not all
The gifts unknown,
To make them known.
And yet this day
Is clearly done,
We slump away
Back to our homes.
We write our fingers,
to the bones.
Sleep and toss,
(A dream's a peach)
Then once more,
Unto
The Breach.

Why?
What is it?
What was it?
Could I not see
The things that they could?
Or was it all a lie...
I just want to know,
Why?

I think back on my childhood.
Everything is falling.
Nothing is the same.
Every day I picture my childhood
In the air and light of morning.
It wasn't until things fell
That my life turned to night.
Memories of now
will be enshrouded
In darkness.
And I want this to change.

Let us confirm,
It's been a rough winter for us all.
We live in the valley,
And What was once (I'm assuming)
Beautiful grassland,
Is now a concrete jungle,
With a few scattered suberbs,
a plethora of crooks,
And a growing amount of graffiti.
But it's okay.
Today, the sun is rising.
Today, I am breathing.
Today, I look out on all the wrong,
And somehow, we are all right.
We're just trying to live.
Trying to survive.
I don't belong here.
But I don't belong anywhere else, either.
This is the place of origin.
Of pain.
Or lessons learned.

You think that he loved you,
I think you're mistaken.
Your memories floating,
in a rose-colored fog,

You think that it's over,
It's your heart he's taken.
I think that he's gloating,
I'm saying, you're wrong.

You think who you have now,
is lying and cocky,
just because the last one,
chose distance and pride,

I think that you allow;
your fear does the talking.
Just let go, and listen,
to whispers inside.

I think it's not over.
You know that you're wrong.
You write here, telling me,
Your love's not yet gone.

There is
Nothing.
There was
Nothing.
We made it
Something.
But before that,
It was nothing.
These dumb
Pretences,
These shows
Of emotion.
All based on
The face
We made.
The words
We say,
Must we
Say them?
The prayers
I pray
Are all
I have.

I think I've just experienced
The biggest dissappiontment in my life.
And it's humbled me.
But I don't know if I've learned the lesson.

You may not be
a grotesque vision,
But you're a ****** pain
in the ***, my friend.
If you weren't so busy
trying to hinder my sleep,
Maybe you'd cross
To the side you belong.
Bug them all night long,
For crying out loud.
I'm sure those spirits
Are in need of someone
With the sense of humor
That you clearly possess.
After all, mocking me
Is your favorite endeavor,
Like a cheshire cat
With a moonlit grin.
Maybe that's your name.
Call you "Chesh"
For short.  
And laugh at your antics
Until you finally become bored.

But seriously though,
go away.

Wrath so strong as river runs in fear,
I hold you tight to black heart with my claws.
I rage against you, yet, pray you were here,
**** the wretch who composed lover’s laws.
Our heart of pain is like a rattle snake;
We strike; then death, now in your blood, does spread,
But ‘fore we bit, we told you! We did shake!
Yet now it is too late and you are dead.
Then running home we’ll shriek, “Never again!
shall Man control my soul and mind and tears…”
Yet someday we’ll say “But he’s Heaven sent!”
Infatuation washed ‘way all our fears.
We kiss our lover strong with lust and thrill,
while in the woods, our last one lies so still…

Today I am alive again,
Searching for the reasons,
In the past, my lies are friends
To every darkened season.

I long to live, create, and die
A slow, meaningful death,
Where whitened, shining dreams defy,
And there's no need of breath.

But in this moment, I am here,
Walking, breathing, dying
And soon to find the path that's clear
The sun, my soul, is rising.

A high rise tree against the dawn,
A rooster crows nearby,
A high-five from the Universe
Asks "Now do you understand why?"
I answer yes and bow my head
And thank the clouds above,
For a grey back-drop is always best
In illuminating love.
Looking back on three years past,
I see the struggle, clear.
But all it seems was just a dream
As I am sitting here.
I watch the sun glow past the line
Where sky and earth do meet,
I stretch my fingers, curl my toes,
Somehow I am complete.

This time
A year ago
I was the same.
And yet, completely different.
Things were different.
But I feel that we're coming to a new beginning.
Something,
Better.
And yet exactly the same.
I'm about to feel beautiful
Again.

My heart and mind are tired now.
Yet, I still have the desire to be something different.
But this time,
When I plunge into the unknown,
It will be with knowledge,
And carefulness.
And a greater understanding
Of how to avoid mistakes.

They always told me to let go of the past.
As if it were at the end of a taut rope,
as if my memories were burns on my hands,
as if my tears were simply sweat of exertion.

"It'd all go away if you'd just let go,"
They assure me in their uninterested gaze,
Scoffing at me in their self-assurance
"She's probably just thinking too much."

Surprisingly, though, on a long drive to nowhere
A monstrous plume of smoke caught my eye
glowing hellish and orange in a grey night
billowing from a crevice somewhere downtown.

It occurred to me then that I was afraid.
If I let the rope slip, even just a little,
whipping through my hands, setting them aflame,
I'd crumble to ashes then and there.

Without the distant past, the rosy memories,
the hot-aired idea of who I was
The self-inflicted punishment for past wrongs,
Who the hell am I?

I came here to express myself,
Hoping this would give me a better idea of myself.
But no one likes
What's not already liked.
...hypocrites.
And my creativity has been
Spiraling downward ever since the day I found love.
And love didn't give me that much
In return.
It's leaving me. This sad sad attempt at art.
I can't even phrase things
Interestingly anymore.
I'm dying.
Because my heart is broken.

Every day,
I think of you.
There's never a moment
When you are not
In the back of my mind.
I call myself foolish,
I call myself wrong,
I call myself ridiculous
Because I know that you're gone.
But something still,
Has a giant hold
On my fragile heart strings
And it's not your fault.
Quitting cigarettes,
That's nothing.
Quitting you,
Will take all that I have.

I feel insane.
I'm being
No different
But I'm not okay
On the inside.
Nobody gets it.
Can't you tell?
That all of my insides
Yell at me
WHY?
I ******* hate this life.

To care
Is to give power.
To be without care
Is to have power.
But to have great power,
You must care about yourself,
And only others who care about you.
The ultimate power
Lies in priorities.
Sometimes you must
Ignore
your overly-kind moral compass.

Crystal gleaming, blinding sight,
I crawl, small seeming, though tall, I tried.
So hard to stand in dark evolution,
the solution claimed as stark;
Yeah right.
I need a change under the sun,
But forest ranger is my part.
So only night, lit by lamplight
Conceives revolution
in this Dark.
What choice do I have?
Which paths to take?
Green stained machetes
Dictate the stakes.
Long for the sun,
And long, we may,
Alas,
Must do with a lamplit day.