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?

Yes now I know that none can do,
I had a dream, I dreamt of you,
Your hat your smile, your laugh and style,
The feel of hair on back if head,
The grey hoodie, your smile and bed...

Awoke from this, not dream, but vision,
A memory with unnatural precision,
Saddened brow upon my face,
That happy thought so out of place....

Released from vault, secured and hidden,
Dusty, crinkled, croaking soft...
A given reminder of what once was,
What's not to come, what's held aloft.

An animal
set free by the sound;
thunder growls, and I to mania.
I set out from refuge
into the storm,
high tides in a low sky.
A flash—
I could not catch it.

Hail pelts, impales houses and me
as I reach out, breathing,
dying in darkness.
I flash a grin
and a laugh, blown to silence
by a crack and a rumble,
roar of a leviathan cumulus,
and a river of light,
stream for the monster,
stays seen for a moment
and I delight in it.

Rain pedals downward,
slaps false tears on skin,
then softens, and soundless,
so I walk to the road.
The afterglow, silver,
the mist rising
like ghosts from the ground;
past lingers, swirls,
evaporates
under the silver shine
of moon on the pavement
and the trees glistening in darkness.
And all things are angelic,
in the phantasmal scene,
glazed in petrichor
and an otherworldly quiet
that follows, always,
a passing storm.

I almost cry
watching god
make herself known.
And listen for
a proverb of silence,
birth and death,
beginnings and endings,
the sky and I.

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...

Door handle
     spin.
paint splashes onward, marching to oblivion
or false understanding
     and tweets are crawling
          nestling in elbows
                 making hinges creak
           and the net can't stop the rust
                  of its human counterpart
                                   mind.

Sometimes I think I'm going insane.
Other times I think I'm being dramatic.
Both thought patterns are seemingly logical.
But they can't both be right.
.... It feels like insanity.
If there's a hell, I think being in my head is where it's at.  
"Welcome to Hell"
right on my ******* forehead.
I hope I'm not destined to depression for the rest of my ******* life.
I asked the Universe for a sign.
I **** you not, it illuminated the "No".
**** me, right.
I don't know. There's no reason to be upset.
No clouds. So no silver lining.
Just nothing.
Floating down the depths of dark abyss in which nothing is felt under an ominous ebony cloud of are you ******* kidding me why am I writing no one's reading this anyway.

Nothing
Nothing
Happens here.
In the light
That sheds itself
Upon the walls.

You must clean
To breathe
Just breathe
To survive,
Not needing.
In need of no one.
No love for
A thing,
But love itself.
No idea
Why or where
It became so hard
Just to live.

And everything falls.
Nothing goes up
Past the age of innocence.

Every wise word,
Every sad instance,
Plucked from
Something easier
To bear
Than to remember.

What are women
To men of strength,
Other than dumb
Picturesque backdrops
Accentuating their
Own success and vanity.

No words...
No words.

When you're in a school,
And can't find a pen,
To write down the things
You would say to him.

When you try so hard
And no avail,
The only mark you make
Is a weeping trail.

When you love the people
Who love you the least,
They wouldn't blink
Should your existence cease.

When you know the truth,
But believe it false,
And you're alone,
In empty halls.

When you want what you see,
And have what you don't,
And you are who you are,
But want to be who you won't.

The life you knew,
Is nothing now,
It faded away,
But you can't remember how.

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.

Subdued warm in my breast is
a long-forgotten embrace of my worth.
Unhindered by
suffocating imprints,
old behaviors.
I face a screen of the moment, shining clear
in high-definition of reality,
a new definition of what it means to live.
Outside the sinister assumption
that protection
keeps our Fear at bay,
when, actually,
the very, very same
will keep the hated fiend
in your soul,
at play.

Why did you do this to me?
For I, in seriousness, was fine.
The lines were drawn, walls were clear,
For once in years my heart was free.
I'd slowly grown, building strength
To forget all that we were.
And at the mountain's top is where you found me,
Pushed me back down that ******* hill.
You crashed all that I'd carefully built,
And not in the good way, mind,
In less than, what, a millisecond?
My common sense, you killed.

What possibly posessed you.

To push my hopes skyward.

Only to ignore me since then.

I'm broken again, it's true.


Thanks again. I hope you're happy.

Glum am I, engrossed in grey mourning fog,
Wherefore, I do not possess knowledge of.
My present is but "now", this ashy grog,
Yet, there am I, in youthful days of love.
I bounce on bubbles of a buoyant laugh,
Expelled from throat that swore his perfection.
Denouncing prophets of a coming wrath,
I dance upon clouds of this connection.
Now I return, and laugh in bitter mirth.
It fits; two types of innocence should die.
Three years pregnant, my sensible rebirth,
For death does dwell in letters of a lie.
These swells of fog recede, I am alive;
A better woman, left, to live and thrive.

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.

The feel of the bending breeze
Soft and kind and brushing brisk,
Underneath the cotton socks;
Lazy, calm, and full of ease.
There's nothing like a todler sun,
Innocent with morning light.
Reinventing what I am
Since this new day had begun.
And each migrating mind we know
Just above the martyred heart
Glides along the new age win.
Confide in us what makes you glow.

Upon walking slowly from my despair,
I saw a turn’ed leaf.
Amongst the others, dark and rounded,
This one sat soundly,
Inverted,
Displaying bones and veins
For all to see.
Vulnerability is not the culprit
it’s been made out to be,
For the leaves seemed natural;
In chorus, their colored-symphony.
Were they all upright,
Green and bright in shining glory,
One might think it a picture
From a children’s story.
I sigh,
Gazing to the sky as I walk,
Farther, and farther away,
To felids unknown, but surely shown,
To my heart, I say,
“Let thyself be turned.”

"He's brilliant."
Well, you are brilliant too.
"Only if you say so."

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.

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.

Poems never written,
Pain, never placed in aesthetic positions,
for other's enjoyment, or my own ego,
but left to float away
like butterflies in the ether
of nothingness that is forgotten.
Yes, rest in peace,
and no we don't bury you with gold,
we don't wish you a thousand slaves,
we don't even have flowers.
But these are my gifts,
my art, gone unwritten,
they go out to you, dear.
Out, and on to you.

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.

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.

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.

In the night
The swings rocks slowly
The stars are dull
The night bugs chirp.
The little lights
The rocks, well placed.
The bridge above
The water, calm.
I remember
Every instance,
Every feeling
Soft and sure.
You made me believe
In my own happiness.
You made me believe
In myself.
I'm sorry I left.
I had to go.
And took the little broken pieces
Of your heart with me.
Please believe me.
I am sorry.

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.

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 ******.

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?

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.

In the darkness,
Sleep, I lie...
I lie there thinking,
Night-day-dreaming,

But in the cold,
I feel you sigh...
In my skin,
I feel you here.

I breathe you in,
I hold your hair...
But in the darkness,
You're not there.

And when I wake,
I know not where...
Just know you're gone
And you don't care.

In the depths
Of waters deep,
Slowly sink
Where fishes creep.

In the night,
I saw the truth,
Which in the light
Was held aloof.

I watch the bubbles
Jauntily rise,
And feel no water
In my eyes.

Letting go
Of these old lies,
Has made me love
And realize,

Our hearts are all
The same in size,

I'm letting go,
With these goodbyes.

Little boy
So confused
Full of love
Everything
To lose.
In my head
I leaned in
For kisses that
Would not have been.
You turn away
Writing on walls
Yet, the wall,
To me it calls.
Figure it out
Figure out life,
Dying boys
Lay in the night.

It's not fair, its true.
You love me, yet,
I can't love you.
The fault is not yours,
Nor is it mine,
It's fate, therefore.
In all your hopes demise,
I hope you see
With wiser eyes
That love cannot be forced
Nor pushed or pulled,
Despite remorse.
I'm sorry it was me
Who you held in mind
So perfectly,
But I can't live a lie;
I'm sorry dear,
This is "goodbye".

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.

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.

Everything changed.
And yet, it was a mere second of time...
But in my heart, it was an ocean away.

I saw your face
I saw your pain
I saw you confusion
I saw your tears forming,
The tears of a small child
Wondering, "why did this happen?"
And suddenly,
You were mine.
Mine to to care for,
Mine to heal,
Mine to love.
I wanted to tell you

I love you.

But I don't know what love is anymore.

And I don't know why.

I looked upon a tree tonight,
The wind caressed my hair,
And in my broken state of mind
I saw Him standing there.
There once was a flower
Blooming big
With beauty in it's solitude.
I remember my hands with anger
Ripping it without care.
I placed the flower in my room,
The next day it was dead.
And in my heart there was the trouble
And sadness in my head.
I looked upon the tree tonight,
And saw that empty space,
I turned my head, with tears, upright,
And pensive, saw instead,
A bud, still blooming,
And another,
Then another still,
All the way up to the top,
It's true, the tree was filled.
Though I killed my beautiful love,
There's hope in life, and hope above,
And God is here, what I've mourned of,
Is passed, and gone until,
I reach my hand
Up to the sky,
This hope
Is all
I have tonight,
And watch the stars
Above, burn bright,
Oh what loving,
Forgiving
Sight.

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.

my ear is ringing
the road is singing
the light is filtering in
the cat is curled
and words unfurled
and silent in the din.

I sit in corners
eyes flashing
up and around, looking
for a face
to alight on
and suddenly there are many
too many
and they all alight
on me

                                                      eggs, eggs for
                                                         breakfast
                                                   penises for lunch
                                                 crafts in December--
                                   I think I may know
                                   what hides in
                                   the wrapping
                                   under silver bow--
                                                I think I have a hunch.

Two years
and she was gone.
We're still going.
Clapping my hands
I tried for months at a time
to catch the air she left behind.
She left us with
her scraps, her scrawl
jagged, stabbing upward
I still run my fingers over their shards
and spires
wishing I could
bleed.

Let's let go of all there was
Before this day and night
Because,
Before these clouds, there was a sky,
Before this morn, there was a night,
And though I ran to you in fright
I ran
To you
Regardless.

So let's hold on to all there is,
Before we crash and burn from
This,
And in the light, I'll see your face,
And soon, there will not be a chase,
And though some day we'll miss these days,
I'll be
With you
Regardless.

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.

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.

It's hard to believe
But it's over now.
And it's been over.
And I watch my life
Flow in front of my eyes
Like I'm flying towards a light
Away from this lie
That encompassed my being
Away from this sadness
That became who I am.
All that I am.
He's left me forever,
So how do I breathe now?
Why do I still love him,
When it's been a year and a half?
I'm flying away, so fast
So very very fast
And it all falls in front of me,
My feet trampled on the roses
That were us.
I told you I would be the best,
The best girlfriend you had ever had,
And I know that I made that statement
A lie.
I know you won't ever read this
But if you ever did,
You would feel my soul
Crying for your own.
My heart, hugging your own.
My tears falling on your shirt.
Me, falling, falling on you...
Can anybody hear me?
Can anybody... Understand...
Does anyone care...
I am flying...
And I've fallen.

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?

Leave my heart
       In a broken bowl,
              Catch the blood that spills.
                                                         With everything
                                         That I have thought,
                        True love gives birth,
            
                     or kills.

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.

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.

I don't want to hurt you.
Not like he hurt me.
It's not my intention,
But my actions,
Like echos of the wrongs inflicted,
Leave my soul conflicted.
All the dreams depicted
By my words,
that turned into nothingness,
Tell me I should hold out,
Hold off,
On the love I want to be real.
I envy you
And all that you are.
I ride on apathy
Until I'm well enough to feel again.

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.