love is hard,
so tear stained faces
and dreams crushed beneath a falling sky
are not worth your time.

to experience screaming silence
and fingers that caress the world
and not you;
truth be told
put your trust in someone
      different.

pray that the path you tread upon
not be knocked from underneath you
because the harsh reality is
it will be, if you still choose the man
with the cold blood
that courses through his veins.

   sadly, coldness is all too familiar
    to you
     and it's what you like the
                                    most.

built up anger turns into holes in the walls
or bruises on the forearm of a man
who wandered into the same bar as you.

"pick a fight with someone your own size"

but the only thing that seems the same size as you
is the trigger of the gun on your bedside table.
but you heard that was only to be used for self defense.

self defense. but what if you're defending yourself
from the only thing that's threatening you at the moment which
happens to be the guy who glares back at you on the other side of the mirror.

the smoke from your cigarette is your anger management.
what could have killed you or someone else escapes on its wispy white color
and the orange fire at the end of the stick burns the leftover words of hate on your lips.

you've ceased to care about anything anymore.
you just hope you end up back at the bar on 8th street
instead of the court room on 6th or the cemetery on 20th.

but thats morbid.

so don't tell the guy in the mirror.

crossing oceans
that ive never
crossed before
is synonymous
to crossing paths
with a stranger
ive never met before.
except the ocean
sits in between
large land masses
and the stranger
sits between two
lamp posts in
the big city,
and the ocean
is content with
where its at in
life,
and the stranger
wishes for
something different.