maybe you didn’t feel it
when i licked myself
off of your lips.

maybe you didn’t feel it
when i traced the back of
your knees with my fingertips.

maybe you didn’t feel it
when you rolled over in the
morning and saw how well we fit.

i knew it when you
picked the eyelash off my  
cheek because it felt like a kiss.

i knew it when you
took the long way home so there’d
be a few less seconds to miss.

i knew it when you
would wake up and leave me because
my heart would contort into a fist-

all so i’d never have to let you go.
but you would never know.

Your words
foolery;
a mockery of my heart.
My trust
destroyed.
And my head now a fog,
from the rose colored glasses
that you placed on my face
back then,
glued to my sight
of you.
I know no truth
and I beg,
beg to know why.
Why did you even bother
my foolish misguided heart.
You should
and will
be ashamed.
You're better than that.
A soulmate is rare
and you,
you are blind
to red devilish pain
that will engulf your heart.
You are now
a stranger,
one whom I couldn't wish I never met.
For you destroyed me
with your apathy,
indecision,
lack of thought.
I cry I hurt,
I scream your name.
And you,
nothing but a silent ear;
You're better than that.
When you are broken
and on the ground,
crying
hurting,
screaming for the truth;
I will meet you there.

I was never your protector, you abused my stoic nature
Madcap ****** for days on end, and copious substances, abused
The blaring music, disturbing the peace, rattling windows
and you dismantled my structure, and yours alongside it
I am just a house

I was never the crutch you needed, nor was I a friend
Remember those long nights on the town with raving girls
and you were irate when I fell to the floor; rich man's art piece
Now you snivel and scratch because you flushed me in haste
I am just *******

Pair me up with old white friends in speedball imprudence
Meticulous measurements in early days but you grew reckless
Now your ghastly macabre silhouette on back alley walls
Is all that remains in this dead town that you still saunter in
I am just ******

You put too much emphasis on me, to defend the sentient
and you stare me down on the kitchen table, questioning
You hold me close and I feel your brow, indecisiveness
and now I'm caressing your temple; bemoaning barrel
I am just a gun

You sit and attribute voices to the voiceless and inanimate
because for years you have repressed your depression
When you should have asked for help and not escapism
and today you end it all, alone and weeping for something you know not what
I am just your psyche

I look forward to her sweet love an affection
she is better than any drug I have done
she is the greatest natural high
I never want to come down
I fein for her 24/7 I suffer from withdrawals
I can never get enough of her
my family and friends don't understand
they call it an addiction I call it a love affair
she is the beautiful girl I dance in my dreams with
she is the special girl I share my secrets with
she is the intelligent girl that helps solve my problems and tame my inner demons

There's a ringing in my right ear.
I hum to block it out.
The hum becomes annoying.
Neither side of the pillow is the cold side.
My lungs are the first casualty from the war in my head.
That jolt you get when you fall in your dreams and you wake up with your heart beating.
That hasn't gone away for awhile now.
It's like I'm just waiting to hit the ground.
Caught in this constant free fall of fear.
I can't seem to shake the shakes.
Found a picture from last night with a cigarette in my mouth.
I don't smoke though.
There's a rainbow somewhere and over that is where I'm looking to go.
I'm sick of sad songs.
I'm sick of happy songs.
I'm sick of silence and the low murmur of my 10 dollar box fan.
I hate everything that's on my walls.
I'd rather just pitch a tent and call it camp **** yourself.  Population me.
Scribble thoughts as they come.  I've been doing it for years.
I thought I would find purpose in it, but I still don't know why I write what I think.
No one else cares and I sure as hell don't.
I wish I wouldn't ask so much from the sky when I don't appreciate it as is.
Everything is wrong.
I could be as broad as the side of the barn or as specific as ice cubes in the Ramen.
Waiting for the day the Sun doesn't come up.

On top of that, there's something wrong with the lights.

But I don't know what your dream girl's like
And what she writes
And how she walks

Is she a happy one?
Because I feel so alone
Is she lovely?
Because all I know is I'm lonely

Will she read you books
Because I will write you poems
Every day when you come home
Will she give you love
For I will never leave

And when she walks away
Look around because I stayed

He wants to sleep.
But there are answers out there of which are still undreamed of.
He pushes on despite the dreams he is deprived of.
What fickle rest he gets he tries to make the most of.
He just wants to sleep.

She wants to sleep.
But there are things she simply cannot rid her mind of.
She thinks the thoughts she dares not ever think to speak of.
There are things she knows her mind cannot talk her heart out of.
She just wants to sleep..

He wants to sleep.
But his future he must now reach out and take hold of.
There are so many things he wishes he could be a part of.
But he knows it is all his life right now can consist of.
He just wants to sleep.

She wants to sleep.
But there is someone out there that she thinks the world of.
Yet someone she can't help but feel she is not deserving of.
The person she needs to be she surely must fall short of.
She just wants to sleep.

He wants to sleep.
He wants to be free of the thing he's under the thumb of.
But he works to be someone he knows he can be proud of.
Only then the burden he holds can he let go of.
Then he can finally sleep.

She wants to sleep.
But there is no rest of the wicked or for those in love.
She lies for hours thinking of the things she's impatient of.
She finally arises, her thoughts she must now write of.
Then she can finally sleep.