Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2023 · 329
Self worth
I have come to the conclusion
that I am playing a game of hide and seek
with the value I place on my soul
each day my worth hides itself away
like eye spy in a picture framed by life
and I flip through the pages
to find it again
in the most random of places
and in the smallest of things.
Oct 2023 · 1.6k
Lighted Carousel
I was asked to explain what I mean by
"Dead Inside"
Typically I pawn off a joking motion
waving my marionette arms
to hide the rabbit in the hat
I adequately nick-named misery
because it keeps me company.
But if you sawed me in half
I'm quite certain all you will find
inside is a silhouette of  man
dancing around in a light box
doing the same fruitless jig over and over.
A couple of loose strands
and a few holes in the images
but the end is the beginning
and I am putting on a show for you all now.
The curtain is  my mouth
strung so tight you'd think it was a smile
And the words I say spin round and round
not a genuine frown in sight.
The light may be on inside
but the picture never seems to change
day after day,
collect the pieces off the floor
get up,
fall in love,
trip over the same type of girl
have my heart shatter into pieces
fall back down on the side of the road
remember how uselessly alone I am;
rinse and repeat.
This is paper thin love
and see through expectations that will not fail.
And it doesn't matter which way you spin it.
Its A tragically bad silent comedy
that doesn't need a narrator to explain
Just how miserable the person inside really is.
My heart is just a silhouette of a man
and if you think you can put some tangibility
behind it and not have it shatter into 1000 pieces.
Congrats you too have joined the circus.
and spin round and round in my light box.
Oct 2023 · 96
Untitled
Fear me
for I am a monster;
Respect me
for you stand before me unscathed.

Morality isn't for the weak
Sep 2023 · 93
unedited
Sometimes I just need to write without a delete key
infest everyone's min d with the unedted versions of my soul
the cracks and brooses the widdled down soul of a man
denstined to be mistaken, destined to fall apart
an exhausted wretch the world never seems to want
but always seems to make a whole lor t of  
seeing tyhe red lines underneath gives my heart palpitations
my obsessive compulsive self crumbles
but I know it ia for the best, mistakes are apart of life
and they are are apart of myseldf in the best of ways
because i am a accumilation of mty mistakes
for wich there are plenty of and I regret none of
except mayvbe a few, but there is no delte button in the real world
nothing to hide the mistakes, to reconcile the scars
there is no delete button in the reality of life and there is nothing
Ican do about it, but love each mistake as  I love myself.
Sep 2023 · 205
Tattoo Addict
I began to draw the demons on my arms
so that people could glimpse a fraction
of the war inside my soul
Sep 2023 · 89
Dear Happiness
Dear happiness,
Your memory is a chef's kiss upon my cheek;
A delight upon my tongue
and a blessing to the little moments in life
that glows a pleasant hue of warmth.
You periodically saturate the background
of what seems to be infinite chaos.
You are a little spark of light in a dark room
that fills the soul with satisfaction,
But unfortunately your grasp is fleeting;
in one moment and gone the next,
A whisper of sentiment  
trickling down from the heavens
that bounces off our skin
as we dance in the rain.
Your wealth is extinguished
easily by the  horrors of life,
and I can rely on you no less then
standing on a mound of quicksand.
For most hedonistic tales end tragically,
those who seek your warmth eternally
find themselves wallowing in despair
more often then not.
The suffering of this world is just more consistent
and pours out it's muck feverously.
The extravagant whims you produce
are quickly overrun by plague and famine.
You are delightfully valuable
and undeniably desirable in every capacity,
But you are simply one spice of life.

I wish you upon every one of my beloved,
and your joys are ever so welcome,
but I have found something, someone,
more reliable to stand upon.
Something that exceeds just the moment.
Her name is meaning conjoined to her sister purpose.
Yes, misery and darkness still envelope our plight,
but these two sisters, soften the edges
for which we stand upon.
As we walk our journey upon the shores of suffering
she enlightens our foot steps and guides us forward.
Though the misery still seeps through our toes
we are driven together without heed.
She makes the suffering worthy of life,
and transforms our stumbling blocks
into valiant victories over our demons.
You may erase the darkness briefly,
but she traces the outskirts of pain and sorrow
with an intricate blending tool
that makes walking through muddy sand
a little less miserable.
She scrubs clean life's bitterness on my tongue.
Her ability to transform life into something more,
is a breath of caffeine.
She is the Goddess of exponential growth

HOWEVER, the bliss of meaning
comes with its own variety of cost.
His name is responsibility
and the weight he bares is quite immense.
He is knighted with duty and honor;
Countless sleepless nights working
followed by stressful days a slave.
He requires effort and upkeep,
day after day maintenance.
His effort is religiously monotonous
Sitting at a desk counting numbers;
chopping wood and building fires;
digging deep into the earth of life
in the attempt to develop a garden of pleasures.
Blood, sweat, and tears rain down
his ever muddy face.
He is a knight that fights the darkness daily,
but he knows deeply the horrors of battle.
He is the fire that heats life into fruition.

Although his cost is deep and anguishing
the reward of his sister supersedes.
both the cost and the terrors of life.
Nothing compares to looking into her eyes.
with a childlike love and desire.
So yes happiness do come by,
sprinkle your affection upon my life and I.
Dance together with my beloved
and swing life away for no tomorrow.
But know that even when you are away.
and the darkness hugs me tight,
I stand on a solid foundation.
of meaningfulness and responsibility.
And I will see you another night.

Yours Truly,
Monster
Sep 2023 · 95
Diagnostics test
I do not wish to be diagnosed,
because that would label
my personality as a mistake
But I do want to be fixed
because there is something broken inside;
a few screws that could be tightened;
a few boards could be refurbished;
a pile of unspoken tragedies piled up
waiting to one day be sifted through.
Sep 2023 · 167
Paper thin
I edit myself until there is nothing left on the page.
Sep 2023 · 90
Click Boom
If I had your gun in my hands,
I would have pulled the trigger
faster than than you could say
I love you
Aug 2023 · 203
Till Death Do us Part
I used to Love you to death,
every breath I'd give you
until there was nothing left.
My rational was hopeful, yet naïve,
I would carry your entire bounty
of love and you would carry mine.
But what a fool I was indeed.
My intricate calculations
were blinded by my infatuation.
You were not ready to give me all of your love,
and I was not ready to feel empty.
When I burdened with you everything
it buried you alive
and it left me empty inside.
I could see you drowning,
and my foolish intuition
was that you needed more love
than I could offer.
I suffocated the fire in your heart
with my own two hands
and there is no return from death.
Jan 2023 · 631
Ramblings
My life's presupposition is volatile meaning. Unfathomable disposition dispersed amongst the heavens. Until one blightful day, I become; the bounds of my existence tethered to soil and flesh, understanding nothing but suffering. Blood and bones interwoven into another unfathomable hypothesis; potentiality and its unknown repercussions.  Adhering only to the reality of mortality and the confines to which that is inherent. Its like dropping an anchor in the ocean of being, with the assumption that every ripple made will contribute to the tide, with or without the ability to float. But I sink either way, for that is our duty. To move under the bounds of gravity and the tides of reality until we reach the bottom of our fruitfulness. And then we return to the volatile meaning from which we came, that ripples outward as our contribution to the future.
Bored at work, trying to look busy, feeling a little poetic I guess
Nov 2021 · 1.5k
Within my Eyes
The emptiness inside, resides within my eyes
Like basins full of water,  strung up to high tide
Its full of all your lies-- on boats your secrets hide
My hopes and dreams, here falters  -- and dies.

But on one day , abysmally in dismay  
Your Heart thawed, just enough to Say
three little words; that brings my heart decay
"I hate you" -- sword wounds left uncured
My empathy drained; insides left on display
Jun 2021 · 1.2k
Third Eye Blind
The walks of life I see;
such             little               hope
I have             for hum-                 anity
stum         ble blind           alone
never able to see reality.
Wake Up!
Jun 2021 · 176
Hold on...
I never knew what strength was
until I couldn't hold on any longer;
It is as if a wave of tranquility passed over me this morning. Still numb. However, the strenuous longing to feel has dissipated. The wounds have be temporarily cauterized. No empty pain lingers in the darkness like a phantom menace. I felt nothing before, But I knew I was in pain. Now the nothingness consumes any lingering obscure thoughts. I am the hollow man; Such a fragile shell I carry on burden bones. But tis a pleasant day indeed. Thunder storms barrage the sky in open warfare and ominous tear drops soak the battlefield. For once I am not the fool weeping alone; The world takes my place, my pain, my suffering, and I revel in the warmth of it's tears as any good sadist does.
Poetic pros I write in my journal that I reveal to the world in snippets.
The past two days were recklessly engorged with alcohol.
Intoxication has become habitual. Each weekend, drowning one's self in an illusion of joy and folly; The jester entertaining not Kings nor Queens, but the ****, the weak, to deceive the empty crowd in my mind that I matter to someone. But matter is fleeting and we, myself and the abyss, understand the plight of today; waking up to nothing-- the empty abyss for which I am well acquainted with. Simply put, I am revisiting my old home from a not so distant past. The only difference between then and now is the relentless bottoms of empty glasses and a false sense of security and composure.
1 page of my thoughts a day to prevent my head from exploding!
I proceed to write again,
Feverishly clawing my way
through a leather bound journal.
The floods have been dammed
for longer than I can remember
And I fear for those below,
But I must laugh at myself a little
For I am alone in this abyss.
Oct 2020 · 132
mutilation
Crisscross applesauce;
the scars on my wrist
is depression's cost
Oct 2020 · 121
The Videogame Addict
I am a temperamental, dissociated mannequin
expulsing convective heat profusely
into the pores of the unforgiving
pleather padded,  worn-out gaming chair
for the past twelve hours of a grueling
dungeon battle and boss battle.
The sweat dripping down my erector spinae
puddling at the bottom of my overused
flannel that I washed a week ago.
The thickness of the air is pungent
and hovers over my keyboard and mouse.
The dark cave of my existence is plenty.
Yes I understand that my reality is fluid,
it shifts from universe to universe
depending on my temperament
and I hardly have time for my own world.
The satisfaction of fiction is fleeting
but that is why I keep joining the lobby.
Time after time, endless hours of adventuring
in the dark of my parents basement.
Because this reality is much easier not  being in it.
a rant or self deprecation... not sure which or both.
Oct 2020 · 305
The Six Wise Fools
The ellipse table spins,
around the bottle passes
Six wizened kings
Stooped drunk on their *****

They discussed their forefront
their kingdom's wealth and prosperity
bantering and confronting
small ambiguous disparities

Until one man stood up
wobbled and unbalanced
He died there corrupt
The whole room was silenced
Sep 2020 · 139
Cont.
The sun is just the devil's tool
To turn the moon into a fool
Exposing a heart so cruel
Sep 2020 · 101
No
No
It only takes a single word to **** a man
Sep 2020 · 697
Blind to Myself
I have shadows where my eyes once were,
for years I have spent clawing at them
scratching the blood from my corneas
and draining the tear drops from my duct
slowly depleting myself from sight
because I am tired of looking at the mirror
and despising the broken emptiness.

Thus, I see no evil because everything is dark.
Sep 2020 · 95
All I need is one
All I need is...
A poem
A sentence
A phrase
A word
An idea
Something to get me through the day
To take all of the pain away
Aug 2020 · 91
Untitled
I am miserable here
The air is thick and drear'
I go to work each night
And return in the morning plight.
My social distance
Has boiled me to non-existence
I have no life anymore
Just another slave to the world
Aug 2020 · 125
Untitled
"I just need to take a nap"

Nap, (noun) definition:
1. A ten year comatose state to avoid all of my life's problems
2. A nonexistant like state removing ones self from suffering
3. An excuse not be productive

Nap (verb) definition:
1. Taking a short rest from your dreary life
2. Pretending to be asleep when annoying people (all people) attempt to communicate with you
3. A failing attempt at death
Aug 2020 · 91
DNR
DNR
Shut the lid to my sarcophagus
Let me sink into the abyss
For this world is one I won't miss
Tell me what you think of this potential song intro. If anyone wants to co-write a song with me that'd be cool
Aug 2020 · 88
AA
AA
If Death was an alcoholic
I'd be a bottle of Beam
Drinking away his sorrows
Like there is no tomorrow
Because life keeps falling
apart at the seam

I AM AN ALCOHOLIC
and my drink of choice is death
day drinking like a champion
and living like a mannequin
the *** and coke rolls off my tongue
with rest of my breath

Yes I have a problem
and Yes I have excuses too
No I don't plan on stopping
I simply love the throbbing
when my throat hits the bottom
so death I'll see you soon
Aug 2020 · 211
If only
If only sleep would come as easy
As the anxiety that keeps me awake
Its gonna be a long 2 days
Aug 2020 · 113
Daily Dose
A poem a day
To keep the insanity away
Aug 2020 · 110
Existential Crisis Vol. 1
You dont actually touch things!
For we molecularly reject everything.
The "I'm not touching you" cliché
Becomes uncomfortable childs play
Because the distance between us
Will never not exist, thus
Kissing her is a game
Of pushing her all the same;
Two lips fighting over the same space
But neither wins the race
Unless she makes me suffocate
And all my atoms relocate
To grasp onto some oxygen
And maybe some nitrogen.
She tells me I always push her away
But babygirl thats part of my DNA.
I can't help it that our atoms wont fuse
Ive tried my best but I always lose.
Being an introvert is atomically sound
Its better that no one is around
So I dont reject them from my life.
Its an ironic kind of strife:
Being in permanent isolation
Because you dont want rejection.
We never truly touch
But that doesn't mean very much.
Aug 2020 · 120
Shuteye
I need to shut my third eye
So I can finally go to sleep
Aug 2020 · 822
Shrinking
Lately I have been shrinking,
the keg I once proudly was
now trickles down to a pint.
For the numbers flutter off the scale
like hail violently pelting the earth.
I've lost 30 lbs in two months
and I hold my chest a little higher.
I am noticeably skinnier
such that my enemies quiet.
The weight of my stomach hardly droops
but the weight of the world
seems to have only been growing.
The world has turned into a mess
The dept has surpassed my ears
and the expenses only get taller
The pressure of marriage and family
to satisfy the woman I love requires,
the atmospheric pressure of society
and my internal pressure to become someone
has created a density difficult to bear
For every pound I have lost
Gravity gains ten thousand more
And yes my body is shrinking,
But so is my wallet, my belongings,
my spirit to keep on going
my life force that keeps me awake
and the energy I have to think straight.
Yes, my whole world is shrinking.
Aug 2020 · 514
A Drunken Love Song
Death and I are drinking a beer
while writing the words
to a love song that you'll never hear

We have scripted your eulogy
although you are alive
Its because you are dead to me

Buried inside my lungs
never to be spoken of  
cut off from my tongue

You were the living poison
only killing yourself
with all your pathetic reasons

Because Death and I
are better friends
than you and your lies

I'd rather drink myself to Death
and be his best friend
than be close enough to feel your breath
May 2020 · 105
Casualties
Wrath sits in  my pocket, blushing Rosacea
like a tiny misunderstood ornamental figure.
He's the timepiece you gave me two years ago
that tends to detonate when you get too close.
I chain him to the loop of my belt
kept out of reach from the general public
but when you grind my gears for your pleasure
Wrath ticks, ticks, ticks, away his life
until one day, when his brother love fails
to bring him to his senses; the fuse will burn
Boom












We all are torn to pieces
I sit here....
I      sit      here...
I                 sit               here...
Procrastinating
p
   r
     o
       c
         r
           a
             s
               t
                 i
                   n
                     a
                       t
                         i
                           n
                              g
until one day, I................................................................­.......................die
having done absolutely  N.   O.    T.    H.    I.    N.   G.
and I regret <dfihbadflhbfihrefbiuwfiuhfihifiufiwief> everything.






Wasting
Every
Minute
pretending to be busy instead of doing school work
Oct 2019 · 399
A Close Call
Yesterday I found my heart teetering
on the tops of your fingertips.
I was attempting to walk across a tight rope
from my chest to yours without falling.
Ev'ry word you spoke was a gust of wind
pulling me closer to falling and I spoke
my own words to stabilize my legs.
But I knew the tragedy of one slip,
If I said something too strongly or
or I didn't listen well enough,
stumbling off the rope was inevitable;
whether I hit an unknown bottom
or kept falling down the rabbit hole
the result would be the same.
My heart, broken on impact,
the force of gravity tenfold
because the value of my love for you
is everything times ten to the tenth power.
I cannot really fathom a shattered heart right now,
but I'd imagine its something like--
Humpty Dumpty on steroids falling
from the moon instead because someone
accidentally mixed up the two children stories.
Humpty Dumpty jumped over the moon
and shattered every piece of himself on the way down.
For the kings men would never find him again
And I would never be able
to put the pieces back together.
...Hey, ******, ******...Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,
Oct 2019 · 537
Untitled
My life has a reaction entropy of positive infinity
Oct 2019 · 443
Dear Someone,
I am sincerely sorry for being an absentee in my own life. You probably don't know me or even care about my existence, nor do you find relevance in my apologetic attempt to reconcile my fruitlessness. But I feel strongly compelled to apologize for my stagnation:

I come from a pond across the way from you. A stowed away break in the trees where the sun only shines for a brief time at noon and disappears for the rest of the day. The birds don't sing their song of sixpense, nor do the fish splash or the frogs belch their symphony. Even the crickets scream as loud as the mimes at the circus. For nothing enters and nothing leaves, so why do you even bother?

I only write to you for what could have been, and pray for forgiveness for what hasn't been. I understand that the act of "what if"s is a waterfall of tears cascading into an abyss, but I find that this journey is a necessary evil.

So what if I made a splash today in my pond, the ocean of things that I can actually control. Sent ripples across the pond and stirred the fish into commotion. The frogs join in the chaos with their symphony  and maybe the crickets, after hearing the low bass of croaking, decide to join in with their rhythm that awakens the birds from their deep slumber. In response, the birds spring up with their joyous melody and the ensemble of nature creates an exuberant noise in a previously dull and dim place. Such a thought that one tiny splash can dictate a tremendous ensemble, such that if you took your thoughts off of your own life for a split second you could possibly be splendidly surprised by burst of nature from an insignificant source. Such small fractions of life can create mesmerizing sound waves that make you a little happier today.

It seems so simple to create, just a whispering splash. Yet I have failed to create a single note that is audible to the outside world.

There are two plausible reasons for my plight: Either the noise I attempt to create is so insignificant to the outside world that more significant amplifications exceed my own capacity to make sound or the world is just simply not listening anymore.

No matter how many times you cry out, jump up and down in the pond and scream your head off at the world; the ripples aren't forming. The waves don't crash on the shore and one is left standing invisible in the center of a drowning amount of commotion.

And if you are reading this, you are the anomaly that has slipped through the sound barrier to hear this silent song.
Aug 2019 · 264
Crisis at the DMV
She spins and twirls
no care in the world;
flower petals cover
the ground she frolics over
following her every which way.
The music guides her sway
her feet glides across the floor
as though her troubles are no more
and her anguish dissipates .
her suffering creates
the harmony and the old tears
fall with the melodic fear
that people are always disapproving.
But when my love is dancing and grooving
her heart skips the sad tracks
and finds her way back
home and in the warmth of my arms.
Her beauty shone bright because the harm
was left on the other side of the room
barricaded by dozens of flower's bloom.
She has been dancing for hours
and the bedroom is flooded with flowers
sprouting from the combination
of one part beauty and three parts the sensation
of being truly loved.
Her body slips into mine like a glove
For she is someone I will never let go of
When we dance together under the moon's love.
written in a time of suffering for my pride and joy, my love and life. RHE
Jul 2019 · 149
Untitled
Why is it so dark in my life right now?














My eyes are closed... what else did you expect?
Jul 2019 · 191
Its 4:20
Jul 2019 · 216
The Lady in White
The shimmer of light
That takes my hand in the dark
And shows me her way
Jul 2019 · 295
I tried...
I try to sleep, I honestly try my best,
life would call me a mess.
But when the night comes and goes
As though the wind blows her away
I cant help but tear myself to pieces.
You might not understand the sleeplessness
But im sure you all know suffering.
The happy thoughts stuck on buffering
Spinning a wheel of sorry im not functioning.
Not today nor any other,
A constant "why do I bother"
Trying to recover from the last 52 hour
Binge watching of "something to do"
Just To keep myself from knocking a ***** or two
Loose from my scattered brain;
Splattered against the television
For hours on end because delusion
Is a better conclusion than depression.
Stuck in a fantasy that I can be super human
Rather than facing the contusion head on.
Putting a bandaid on the hole in my soul
Hoping that heroism is a contagious scroll
Through the cartoon section of the tv guide.
I hide in bed waiting for my bride,
My perfect life to fall into place
But all I face is static friction
Because the perfect life is fiction.
And ill lie awake till the day I die
Watching the world as my life goes by.
Suffering, like the rest.
Help i really cant sleep. This poem sounds good in my head but who knows if that is reliable. Let me know what you think. I was trying to play around withmany differnt types of rhyming while still being super serious
Jul 2019 · 348
None the wiser
I thought vulnerability was for the weak.
Even when I let you inside my thoughts
I've had both hands on your steering wheel.
I swerve hard left turns on the difficult memories,
dodging the on coming traffic of blatant truths.
My minds is a pile up on intestate 98
but I have you on the detour route
to Mr. Nice Guy lane on the road of "life is okay".
The next stop is "I am happy" street on the corner
of "you will be all right" avenue and "I don't care" lane.
But these fabricated roads are painted over signs
that trick you into believing that I am truly "fine".
But all the cars have crashed and burned
and now you know the truth.
Insomnia is literally killing me right now but hey makes some interesting poems
Jul 2019 · 360
Bender
Death can bite my shiny metal...
It can fall off my thoughts like a petal
And let go of my family tree.

O' please, let my loved ones be,
And the sea of darkness set free
So that i can sleep in peace

And wake with all my pieces.
This life is but a simple lease,
time that I'd like to extend

Push away the invevitable end
That dooms us all to bend
To our knees  and weep.
O' let me never sleep
Jun 2019 · 172
Untitled
Sometimes in life you just have to crack a few backs
Jun 2019 · 432
Muerte -passage two-
I find no comfort in the tears,
Nor the lasting words of sentiment,
But the funeral precession marches on
And my soul wrenched from its place.
Death claimed them all
Jun 2019 · 265
Muerte - passage one-
If you only knew the extent of my death
you would run away from my plight
And never look back
Death be not proud
Jun 2019 · 241
Locke'd in
I stand at the foot of reason,
and feel the need to climb--
ev'r so high upon her mount
where the cloud breaks
and her pinnacle understanding peaks.

Only to take a great leap of faith
head first off the mighty cliff,
into an abyss of the unknown
where my greatest fears and desires
lay to waste in the nothingness.

Most days I can't fathom why I climb,
out of bed, into the world, into the light.
yet I find a reason to leave my covers,
my sanctuary of warmth and protection.
I meet you at a little coffee shoppe;

A Wednesday morning cup of coffee
steaming upon my rugged face
sleep deprived and wishing the week's end.
Stuck in the inevitable climb of reason
and unfulfilling success.

I doubt my existence and purpose,
like every other Wednesday.
yet here I am, struggling along
fighting the same tragic fight
with absolutely no reason,

but reason itself good enough
to keep me moving on
to another Wednesday and --
another cup of coffee,
Another reason to climb
procrastinating studying for a political science final exam
Next page