Hate me.
Like every word I've uttered has cursed your name.
Every laugh has been at your expense.
Every smile a plot against you.
Even before I met you I want you to hate me.
My life has led to you.
And now we're sitting in a room
While you're silently seething, burning
With this awkward attempt at che sera, at live and let live,
At Apathy.
You know how I hate that.
I told you to hate me!
Do so! In the grandest display of passionate fury to be trapped inside of these four walls.
Make your words fly like daggers towards my very life
And blaze and scorch the very skin I use for protection.
Throw me to the wall with a growl in your voice that makes everything inside of me
Tremble.
And I will disappear.
I have patiently waited for your hatred.
Since you first looked into my eyes and told me.
So long as the sun rises and sets I will continue to wait.
So just hate me loudly already.

We are lions in cages.
Extroverts anonymous. Facades of hopeful futures.
We        think        differently
Because we are so special
The ball and chain around her ankle is a ten pound book-bag
Portable computer. Portable phone.
Internet. Music. Silence.
Internet. Music. Silence.
Who whips the lions?
The kings and the queens of the jungle.
Are ******.

It's not stealing.
More like glorified borrowing
Of things that glitter
Like stars in the fresh
Alcoholic
Night sky.
Or better yet.
Merciful adoption
Of the abandoned
Reaching out
to my
More than willing fingers.
I was antiquing in the future
For things that decorate
The background
Of nights that represent
Desperation and regret.
It's not stealing.
It's *claiming memories

I am a son of Eden
before the slaying of
brother by brother

And have let go
the arms of our
father and mother

I walk among
the beasts of the field
and the fruit of the ground

With only my will to follow
I take each step
toward my place
and my peace

Whether I lay
here or finally
in the East

I try to follow
my dreams
but I keep
waking up

So I try to do
what I need
but I keep
falling asleep

So I dream

An empty shell
can hold an ocean
if you get close
and listen
to its quiet roar

Empty eyes
can glow like sunrise
if you get close
and find
who lives inside

And an empty heart
can beat with passion
if you get close
and hold
where it was torn

He used to walk with his head down,
Eyes on the ground sheltered by black lenses
Brick walls covering the window to his soul.
He barely even walked,
trudged really.
Like he was making his way through a swamp of ***** things
Things he wanted nothing to do with.
He deafened himself with his music
So he couldn't even hear the filthy creatures that taunted him.
Tennis shoes or moccasins, didn't really matter,
He moved them one at a time, step-by-step,
Carefully choosing the route that would leave him most alone,
So he could wonder to himself why no one loved him.
I've never seen his eyes, but I've looked into his soul
And though he's never spoken a word to me
I understand his heart.
He's let it be so, that people can see,
That he maims himself out of love
And though he is still blinded by walls,
And deafened by music
He now walks with his arms open, his head up,
His heart vulnerable.
He is a book you have to take from the shelf and open for yourself.
No cover art, no summary on the back,
But the greatest book you will ever read
Nonetheless

Seeking a gentleman who gets lost in thoughts
Feels everything and holds onto nothing.
Bachelor must tolerate banjos, books, and bare-feet.
A writer is preferred, but not exclusively.
I'm seeking a companion who loves tea and coffee in the afternoons
Must be willing to gamble with the suggested shows on netflix
And suggested artists on pandora.
Bonus points if music moves him in directions he didn't know existed.
Seeking a gentleman whose heart is made entirely of love and passion
With a reasonable head
And an unapologetic twinkle in his eyes.
I warn you that I love sunburns and tank-tops
Rain makes me sad, and I own a blue Snuggie named Ralf.
I laugh too loud at lame jokes about muffins and bars
Cry desperately in movies
And am driven to push boundaries.
***** makes me loose
I'm terrified of fourteen-year-old girls and spiders.
And I consider 90 degrees to be jacket weather.
I'm seeking a gentleman with an empty hand and a full heart
That I can love with all that I have
Laugh with, cry with, dream with.
You can find me in the words on this page.
I'll be waiting.