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822 · Mar 2015
But, if...
I’ve been stuck at the cross roads of pedestrian language for 15 years
now drowning in not only my adolecense but also myself
for my lungs are filled with water, self loathing and self hate
but my heart is filled with a love for everyone
everyone which i cannot understand
understanding is something which seems to be so uncommon
because if he has a heart and she has a heart and
they have a heart are they not the same with differences of emotion
of features, of hight and pigment but are they not the same?
Are we not alike?
We are each other without the ability to see we are connected
my mind to yours
i see through not only your eyes but your soul
and if i have a heart
and you have a heart
then what exactly are these class differences
which set the two of us from them,
what are these variations
which set
the two of us, from one another?…
procrastination.
i push forth a time towards a further date
and you remain to believe that both still exist.
669 · Dec 2014
not much of a poem
Today is the day
But so was yesterday...
Wake up late
Put on pants
Drag myself down the stairs and onto the portch
Today is the day
Light my cigarette
Inhale the good
Exhale the bad
Today is the ******* day
Get out of my car
Meet you on the sidewalk
I have to talk to you
You have to talk to me
You say you have good news
I say that I have something to say to you
Today is the day
I've been waiting 11 months and 17-
Together
You said
To geth er
Him
And you
you and him
To think
To think I was going to finally say
I love you.
Today was the day
Today was the day.
337 · Nov 2014
Untitled
Ok so fine I have a few bad habits
Being a optimist though
I tend to look at them as souvigneirs
Drug addictions are simply memerobilia
My love for you is a item that hold no true meaning
Yet I hoard it like a broken mother
Whos son died at war and
17 years 4 months and 30 days later
Still sleeps with his blanket
And favorite teddy bear as a child
As a disguise I hide what most people
Would consider misdominers
(Don't let your eyes fool you every last one of them is treasure)
Well, I hide them
Under my bed
In the back of my closet
My heart
You know, all those dark, dusty, empty n overdue for a cleaning
Type places..
Because I've got knick knacks and trinkets
(You were supposed to read that in the little mirmaids voice)
Point is they all have no uses
And absolutely no meaning...
I think..
Unless love means something...
And that song I wrote for you back in march, which you have never heard is actually still playing out of a stereo on the counter top of the kitchen in the apartment I built for you to live in
In my heart
Abandoned
Now full of mistakes
I've been trying to hide.

— The End —