I don’t know when but one day past,
I preserved our love so it would last.
Jars of cherries and pears line the case
Our love hidden in its secret place.

Over time the room grew musty,
I used the pears and cherries thusly,
I left the room dim and quiet
Then soon forgot what I left inside it.

After weeks or months or years,
I find myself searching again in here.
I’ve forgotten what I lost,
But I will find it at any cost.

In a nook, I spot a single jar
Hidden in dust as thick as tar,
I approach it slowly without fear
Recalling now what I stored here.

I wiped the grunge and twisted the cap
Stopped a moment, taken aback.
Our love escaped and dissipated
I grab the air as if to save it.

I throw the grimy jar to the ground,
Burn it to guarantee it won’t be found.
I close the room and turn the lock,
My wooden heart begins to knock.

I light a match and don’t look back
Gasoline drowns the past.
The pears and cherries are now homeless
Thrown to the street without notice.

Empty and transparent,
****** shining greedy deathstone.
Made precious by demand rather than practical application.
Useless, Fruitless, just a nuisance.
Full only when the world around it glimmers light
At night, really not much of a sight
To see.

Secretly, somewhere
The diamond is me.

Remove the cold, clean refrigerator water
Poured into your mind to become a bit hotter.
Poison-less, diamond-faceted twinkling glitter
Internal pulse pounds, skitter and flitter.

Your propane personality flickers,
Internal heat hushed, the teapot snickers,
But now higher, higher grows your fire
Melting into you is all I desire.

Louder, louder screams the steam
Announcing inner worth below the outer gleam.
The superheated shouts squeaked out your teeth
Can't compare to the bubbling beauty buried beneath.

Trickle, pour, add some more
You're the tea that I adore.
Sometimes bitter, though discretely sweet
Just a little time and it's complete.

Closed eyed sips make my stomach glow
Melting my inner, internal snow.
And through and through, every batch I brew
I can't help falling a little more in love with you.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry" over again
Stale bread, moldy words
Repentance doesn't matter
Empty words fall to the floor.
Clattering, glass shards shattering
Broken mask cracked again.

Run, quick. Go tell a friend
The news is out, the press has come
Headlines mimic those of the day before
Every day the same story,
Surprising the goldfish followers
Each and every time.

Perfect little girl, don't cry
Those aren't your tears to spread
Your life is perfect, nothing's wrong
Ungrateful, spoiled little brat.
Venom words punctuated with a slam
Left alone to brew in your faults

Perfect little girl
Where have you gone?

She is the ornate vase
Lying in pieces on the floor
Left over from the night before
A causality of a world too busy partying,
Swept away once it has sobered
In mourning.

Metal screeching, heartbeat screaming,
Am I dead, could I be dreaming?
Trapped on this roller coaster of fear,
Ten feet closer and I could have died here.

Flips and turns and moving around,
Glass and grass scatter the ground.
Bump on the head, a little sore,
Ten feet off and it could have been more.

One thing about life is it can end whenever,
And the funny thing about death is that it lasts forever.
If you ask me how I am, I'd say "okay."
Thinking ten feet off could have been my last day.

Empty words pour over one another and we bath in it
I want to *****. Pinkies crossed, keep my own blood promise.
Clasp raised hands, you're just two ******* grand.
While the empty crowds and fake personalities go crazy in the stands,
And the non-imaginary friends rally to take a stand.
Judge me, judge them until you're at full self esteem
Shiny train wreck tracks, two tons more and full steam
Ahead, altered image in your head to fit the rhyme and time before we split
Apart into the tiniest of atoms, I wish you'd shatter and splatter already,
70% water and you're still pretty **** heavy,
Though if by mass or volume remains a mystery.
Open eyes, twisted spine, take your shoes, give you mine
The top of the pond is warm, but just wait until the dark fills the lake,
And the hopping waterbugs overtake and your body is no longer your own.
Queen, **** it, King, sit on my throne,
And look at the useless fruitfulness that I have grown.
Trust you as far as I could throw a stone and it landed among the seeds I'd sown,
Silver puddle reflects to me that the you I'd known has left me all alone.
Friendship without sun drowns us in a matter of hours
***** fertilizer and weeds choke out the flowers.
And all the while this ***** dreadful night
Can taste the lightness of our fright, and be remembered as the day,
That the privlaged beggers finally picked a fight.
*******, we used to care about one another
Though I won't say we've grown up or apart,
Our dimensions seem to have warped an awful lot.
It could be that this is art in the rambling, symbolic diary sense,
But let's have some common sense, no props to those
Who cheat and repeat, force the burden of meaning on the helpless seedling.
Abstract art and children separated by a mirrored glass wall to encourage real work
And here's to the curses written inside the bathroom stall,
Embraced and erased, then forgotten years later
Memories wiped without a trace, this human race
I'll bet you can win, but I still run faster
You tricky ******* set up traps along the track
Encouraged by the sadistic master.
Paper, tin and plaster;
Save the past so she remembers the tactless *******
That was presented as a present and in the present now presents
A trickier problem than he could devise if he had tried.
Perhaps he never lied, but looked at the fingers, little miss
Scarlet tips, tried to deny but the die is dyed with fine metallic mist.
Gleaming puppy-dog eyes pour remorse, of course,
But given another pure, white sheet
Would prove even more efficient in "accidental" deceit.
So row, so row, goes the lame claim that my words manage
To stay same in your brain, gain an image of the pain and strain.
No love, never then, never again.
Continue talking, and walking apart
I'm sorry, screamed. What's that you say?
Hate and love splatter tiny red dots on the scatter plot
Flash frame, freeze for a fraction, minds captivated by action
Divide and multiply the fractions and traction,
Keeping the same, grown apart, helplessly together,
Until, comparatively, even static falls apart.

I wish I loved you.
If only I could have felt that burning desire,
That molten magnetic attraction.
Perhaps I would have travelled the world for you,
Or moved across the country.
All in hopes of winning your love.

But you weren't that for me.
You were a warm feeling in my stomach,
Knowing you were there every morning I woke up.
You were calm and comfortable.
Never needing to talk, but we could.

But in feeling these mellow feelings, and having never been in love,
I've made you feel alone.
So now you've gone to meet someone,
Somebody who can give you emotion and passion.
And you know they'll be perfect, yes, you know it.

Now I sit and heave a great sigh,
Knowing I could have been that person, if only I tried.

Slanting slits of streetlamp light illuminate the brand new night,
Old wet boots that slap the ground step down and down and down and down,
While passing buildings one by one with a walk as fast as some can run.

Voices ramble, tilt and amble, Left-side teen tribe fluorescent gamble.
A bottle message bellow smashes glass silence.
Then hidden hollow eyes brighten from this bizarre kindness,
Surprised to find the praise to be pure of heart and free selfish finesse.

Regrettable silence answers adoration due to doubt and disbelief,
And taken back in time the answer would be nearly as pure and brief.
But in the accidental inattention honorable intentions make a final mention,
Beckoning a nice night in a final sympathetic extension.

I wish, I wish for the words to write a poem,
That I could find the right verse to drive my point home.
I wish and I wait and push at the gate
Holding emotions and syllable notions
Deeper and further than bottoms of oceans.

It seems so quite silly that ideas in my head
Cannot be opened with pens or pencil-tip lead.
And the simplest worries paint layers so blurry
When I ponder the things each person has said,
That I lay and try to look far ahead.

Frustrated, elated, hated and jaded,
I cannot decide to which feeling I'm fated.
Any every day or two, out of the blue
A problem arises that seems newer than new.

Each time I imagine a poem is the solution
To what has become such a nuisance,
But I soon find I lack the presence of mind
To rhyme my words just so.

Feel the words caress you
And tickle up your spine.
Taste the bass like it's
Earthy, ruddy wine.
Smell the drum beats,
peppered through in perfect time.
Watch the guitar rear it's head,
leap away, and start to climb.
Listen to this song,
Breathe deeply of the rhyme.

There is a room.
Nobody enters the room, for the door is boring.
The welcome sign has been gone for ages,
But it's for the better, because it was beat-up anyway.
The door creaks when you open it, but who would know?
There's a lock on it too, but I couldn't tell you why.
Inside the room there sits a statue.
It's covered with weeds and thorns and vegetation that has sprouted over time.

It waits for someone.
Not just anyone.
Someone who walks in the door, shoulders high.
Someone who throws away the weeds and thorns.
This someone will see what the statue holds,
the treasures of it's mind.

This person, this special, enlightened person,
They will receive the hardships,
and strife,
and failures,
and sorrow,
and loneliness.
Upon receiving all this, they may do what they please.
As it would be silly for a mere statue to tell them what to do.

Perhaps I'm growing up,
Learning to take responsibility; to stop ******* up,
Saying no, tonight I'll think I'll just go home,
Go to bed sober; go to bed alone,
And think for a while about who I'll grow to be,
Maybe there is an adult inside of me.

Perhaps with the new pills,
I can feel the pleasure; I can feel the thrills,
Without the anxiety
I can open up; I can be me,
And show the whole world who I will grow to be,
Maybe I can fit into society.

Perhaps my inner child died that night,
No resistance; no fight or flight,
No longer looking for thrills,
Still leaves me empty; still gives me chills,
And all that's left is an empty mold,
Ready, set, society take your hold.

Inhale, exhale.
Lungs impale.
Burning quickly.

Who is this new, sick me?

Before I can ask, I'm gone.
Birds in the cloud.
But come dawn
I'm not proud.
I've come down.

At least for now.

Just a few nights ago I had a dream,
Vivid and bright, like reality.
You grabbed my hand and held it firmly,
I pulled away, but you didn't let go.
When I woke I felt a burning that had melted my core
And I was utterly alone.
It was a simple gesture really,
But enough to remind me of that hollow place
Where you should be.

Relief, calm, happiness.
Why would I stop?

"What happens when it doesn't work?"

More, that's what.
Harder, faster, longer.

"It won't stop, it's always helped me."

I'd be worse off without it, but you won't believe that.

"You need to work with us for this to do you any good."

What if I don't want to stop?

"I just have a really hard time seeing it as a problem."

*"Then I don't think there's much we can do for you."

Five tears have fallen for you, three times I’ve burned,
But the past is over now as far as I’m concerned.
You pushed me away, left me in a dismal trance
And through the day I blazed until sunset salvation,
When into the cool night I danced.

Your words, they seep into my ears
Shards of glass leaving my soul
Red and raw and full of tears.
Repeated insults take their toll.
Until scabs form over that place
That makes you vibrant and caring.
Flushed tissues of layered lace
Whisper to the knife,
"Do you know about sharing?"

Come now, my newfound friend.
Haven't you heard, the means are worth the end?
Stop shaking little one, take big steps.
Let me teach you, carry you, feel free to rest.

Now come along, come along, there's much to do.
The whole gang's here, allow me to introduce you.
Over here we have loneliness, guilt and pride
Behind them stand laziness, hatred and every reason you've cried.

Now, now stop shaking. They can't hurt you, my dear.
Though, if you want you may leave now, scurry away if you're scared.
But I'd be delighted if you trusted me and lent me your ear.

Now you see, young one, this place is quite funny.
The creatures who stay here don't care if you're rich or have money.
They'll attack without warning, the day could be perfect, cloudless, sunny
And they'll still beat you within an inch of your life,
Pull your hair, hold your throat to the knife.
Before you confront them you must plan in advance,
Since they'll break you and kick you if you give them the chance.

It's no doubt you'll have this in mind as they rush to approach you
But stand straight and tip your chin up, remind yourself I'm here to coach you.

You must not run and do not hide.
Let these demons walk by your side.
Shake their hands, greet them kindly.
You're strong, right? Do remind me.
Now show them who you are, every bump, every scar.
Let them know there's nothing there.
They can't have you, you're not scared.

Now walk away, leave these monsters in your wake.
The prize is freedom, it's yours to take.

Hello, hello, please come inside.
Let's share another bowl, take another ride.
Insincerity burns the light shining in your eyes,
Lying to me for redemption, recreating our ties.
I return your gaze, ask you why.
You fumble, your smoke of faux passion blown away.
Inside I laugh, but turn to you and say okay.
Then once again we travel down this road,
Slipping back into together mode.
So come inside my friend, use my body, take your toll.
For no matter what you do to me, you don't control my soul.
Now as we reconcile, touch again, start to smile.
I'm farther away than ever,
Head in the clouds, back whenever.

Where did you go?
The people I love are gone.

Who are these strangers who fill your shoes so perfectly?*
These people don't care, I hate them.
I ******* hate them.

You're all so unhappy and I'm sorry, so sorry.
But I've lost you, all of you.
I hate you.

I want to run away
And never come back.
But you're all gone anyways.
Amen to that.

Children flit about the yard,
Passing and flashing through the day.
Glittering lady slipper smiles
Parted as always, with something to say.
Until the silent rose seduced them,
Quieted their restless tongues,
With a world of glamor, wonder,
And a ladder of creaky rungs.

Taught the ways of beauty and of forgetting who you are,
The children leave the roses' den and start to drift apart.

These fresh tender blossoms, shrouded by thorny prose
Peeking at the weedy world to seek the problem
That they will water 'til it grows.
Then whines and whimpers fill the garden
When each reaps what they had sown.

So on goes the mask,
The beauty, and the thorns.
Never to look back or remember
The place that they were born.
So valiantly do these puppets pretend,
That they do not remember if
The means are really worth the end.
So forward, forward, they do begin.
Smile big and smile bright,
But just enough to win.
Oh, what a beautiful day for living,
In the garden of lovely sin.

It's back again, that terrible urge to slice myself open and observe
What would pool at the surface and drip from my arms-
Crimson pools spilling from my lifelines pipelines.
And it comes when I'm alone, at nighttime.
Then it appears when I think about what I did last year.
And it comes when you're gone, but mostly when you're here.

Charming, really, the thought of pain-
At least for me, at least today.
And it's true I can't tout any physical gain
Except a visualization of perceived pain and strife.
So now please, tell me, how you would clear your head
If you felt like you'd lived most of your life
Already dead?

Use me.
Do it now. Quickly.

No, I don't love you.
I don't want to.

Hit me, hurt me.
Pick me apart piece by piece,

I need it.

Tear into me, I dare you.
I want to be left ******.

Stop the "gentle"
Stop the "care"

I want rough.
I want pain.

I need it.

What is language but a painting
Interpreted from mind to mind?
Movement, texture, value, light
Beauty, darkness, hope, and slight,
Channeled within from me to you
With only a tongue,
This mental picture grew.

So I inquire, is there any soul
Who as of now finds their palette whole?
Who, given opportunity, would deny
to see colors imperceptible
to the human eye?

None exist who would forsake the chance,
But most give not a second glance
To shelves of books, stuffed richly with words
That expand the canvas of the mind to contain
Amazing landscapes, the view of birds,
The warmth of the sun and the sting of rain.

With these words one can think in colors unseen
The ocean is not blue, but aquamarine;
The sunset sky was clearly cerise;
We were not plagued with wind,
But stroked by a breeze.
Clearly without color life is dull,
So it follows that these words we mustn't cull.

There’s no synonym for you
In any dictionary I’ve found,
But even if this wasn’t true
You’d be the best you around.

I imagined a picture
of what I wished to be
Now I look in the mirror
and the picture I see