Tonight my mind is not my own
tonight Jacob comes


I can feel his claws behind my eyes
taking control


Tonight my poetry is not my own
tonight Jacob comes

Imprisoned thoughts finding freedom
within the damaged mind
mind not what they say
nor how they say it
speaking clearly with hijacked tongue
tongue tied and muted
fear gives new voice to old words
words hasterly spoken
drawn back
upon the lips like an unstrung bow
piercing retorts
and sharpened interlect
rend away the facade of common descency
allowing profanity space to breath
rank rancid epilogues becoming epitaphs
upon a soul trapped
within the confines of anothers understanding
of morality
long dead arisen the medicated zombie wakens
and a new day dawns
follow not the path of the poet when his words
are not his to command
and yet they command your respect and your derision

Recently I have not been eating
I like how it feels
Wasting away
I want to become so frail that I sway in the wind
And disappear like the little burs from dandelions
Yesterday the cold infected my bones
and numbed my fingers
The icesicles in the air scraped my lungs,
But I liked it
Am I a ******* or am I
Mentally ill?
My suicide note is starting to resemble
The coffee I obsessively drink,
And the ink on my skin fading along with my chances
With him
The only way you're ever going to make a difference is if
Your name is in a textbook and children
Are popping bubbles and sticking the gum
In the pages
Is there a part of me that wants to hold onto life?
Why else would I write down my intentions?
If I was completely set on ending things
I would not need to write them down
They would fester in my mind comfortably
But these thoughts seem to fit very awkwardly
Inside my head
Then again,
What's the point in waiting?

All i find myself deeply caring for is

the discovery of new poetry

a cigarette on my roof at 12:43 am

the ink inside this pen, the paper underneath my hands

and that shoes inside the dryer noise

within my chest

and for some reason, nothing else sticks to me

it rolls off my skin like water on windows

puddling in front of my feet

darling, you don’t matter - maybe in someone else’s eyes

but in mine, you just don’t matter

*don’t take it so personally