The body borrowed,
  the soul to lend

The clock runs quickly,
—each click portends

The choices wagered,
  the chips they fall

The sins if proffered,
—a last downfall

Your memory staggered,
  the past in waves

The future stealing,
—are you enslaved

The trumpet blows,
  one last farewell

The die is cast,
  —heaven or hell

(Villanova Pennsylvania: February, 2018)

It's unlikely I'll ever make "THE DAILY."
(Woo hoo, to you who do)
I'm more of a chipping away with a pick
Than setting up the dynamite
Type of writer.

Not that I miss you,
but I liked sleeping alone
until I met you.

The cold metal guides the sun,
To the eyes of the man,
Covered in black.

Cloaked in a haunting shadow,
He sharpens his blade,
And cleans his tool,
With a rag, so red,
It's ominous in his hand.

Cleaning his blade,
Silently keeping all the blood hidden,
Is his purpose as well as killing.

His last victom, wept and cried,
The screams still there,
In the deep red depths of his eyes.

Knowone can really clean a sinned blade,
And likewise,
The executioner cannot become a clean slate.

It's not a poem about suicide
It's a cry for help
But help doesn't come with instructions
So we're all sitting here
Trying to figure
...
Just trying to figure
How to be helpful
Helplessly

You always smile like your about to cry,
You always laugh away the lies.
You always hug me,
When I feel ready to die
So why do you keep yourself locked inside?

We stick together, the almost perfect two,
We have to many inside jokes, all of them so true,
We have always failed together so we don't lose,
So why dismiss yourself Luke old news?

Are you afraid of me laughing at you?
Are you angered by the truth?
Or perhaps it's the unknown feelings,
That threaten your youth.

No matter what it is, I will always stand by.
And I am ready to be the shoulder ready for the cries.
Through love, hate, war and  sorrow,
I'll never let you suffer alone,
Even if it means making it to tomorrow.

you left me so broken
and i kept counting my days

you left me so open
and i mourned for you to stay

you kept me for an ocean
and i drowned down and away

and it feels as if i have
just awoken,
it's such a sad day,
and i have nothing to say

so, here's my song
with my tears golden

you told me how precious
i was, until you found a place
to replace my face,

and now i feel so rotten,
so, small and forgotten

it's a vicious tale,
and the words don't fade,

your luscious hair and
brown eyes,

made me believe your
every lie,

this delicious air,
and the crowned skies

make me wither,
and it tastes bitter
more than i,


and i thought,
more than i,

is you, but it was a lie;
you were never my home,

and i can't deny,
what nobody tells you,

about the blues,
heart and the stone

it's not the love, nor hate
but the anger that fills you
once they're gone.