"That's the great thing
  about poetry,"
         she said with a smile

Feeling impressively lonely tonight; I strongly dislike nights like this.

There's blood on the floor
And gristle on his cleaver
\
  Masks in the box at the corner
  of the small apartment flat
/
Hidden behind a moto-helm
Driving by fun, of the socio-style
\
  Richard, Phil, Charlie, the gang
  Over the head, face remains changed
/
Travel through the Phonehom
Slashing through the fleshy barriers
\
  Coming on a grisly scene
  Awaiting something new to see
/
Quick rap-tapping
Keyboard strokes
\
  Pushing through the double doors
  This is it folks

For the US, for the US!
The *****'s will fall
  But these two,
  At the moment, don't know it
  At all

It's not about you; I promise

I am seething regret
I am the walls of the terrace which you broke down

Filibuster my longwinded-ness
And break the backs because of your freedoms

I am seething regret
We call it freedom of the body
I call it ******, and **** it, I will not be silenced

I am sick and ******* tired of children dying
I am sick and tired of mothers, fathers, sisters, and brothers crying.
We are so selfish, that we refuse life, because we believe our bodies have that right.

I am a man, yes, that is true.
I cannot speak from a woman's point of view.
But I guaran-*******-tee you
That my viewpoint would not change
If my genitals sank in rather than pushed out

I could spit tacks
And I could break backs
Watch me seethe and writhe

I don't want to hear your point of view,
I want to hear the sound of silence
Because no more children would be dying
For freedom

Remembering my **** smelling like saliva
(You caved)

Exploration, cave-diving
(And dealing with the liquid)

Moans, Groans, and don't-let-me-go-homes
(Grab at something)

Once, twice, three times priority
(And vulgarity strikes at the heel of the prim and proper)

Your face is one I'll remember
(Travel with me, and let's *** in different cities)

My love for you
Fades
Slightly
With each passing day

Rewrite: The way in which I love you
Changes
Greatly
With each passing day
And I can feel it moving from
Bed sheets
To "besties"
And I'm not sure
how I feel about that.

Rewrite: I'm completely
sure how I feel about that
I'm just not sure what it means.

Sometimes,
     It's what you don't say
     That can **** me

With ink and pen I write what
I believe to be true
I once typed that I was nearly
100% sure I was to marry you

But now I feel
It's not fact
And I will
Probably
Never get you back
And nearly 100% of me
Is ok with that.

Mad cap
Mad hatter
Just tap
My bladder

Story makes no sense
But kids pay no mind
And declawing kittens
Is a weird sort of chore
There was more to the
Story
I think
Maybe
I wrote
Ill
To you
Me?
Thank you kindly.

There's a delicious taste in my mouth
But a sickening pit in my stomach

What's happened to us?

I thought I'd write something about breakups
But then I gave up

And that made me happier.

I think it's time I gave you yours.
I'll be off elsewhere.

Baby,
I'm drunk of of emotion and
peculiar situations
John Mayer's additions may not be helping
but
There's something in me that craves you

Don't get me wrong,
I love physicality,
But that's not what I'm getting at
And I'd be satisfied if it were never
Part of the equation
(though I'd miss it terribly)
I miss you
Like the plants in the shade miss the sun
Like the dry dirt misses the rain

You give me a sense of wholeness
And I wouldn't be where I am right now without you

So whether we spend the rest of our lives
(and our nights) together
Or we go our separate ways
Know that I love you
I always will
And you will always have a piece of me
And I am, and forever will be, more than ok with that.

I read something yesterday
Call it a confession
And all I could think was,
"I hope this isn't you."

I hope that love is true
And I hope that we can work

I hope we haven't gotten this far
For you to feel the way the confession felt
To say that you only said you loved me
Because I treated you decent
And that now, you're in too deep.

I hope this is all real.
And I like to think that I know it is

But day by day, I miss you more
and I grow more unsure
Because I can't be reminded by your touch
your kiss
your affection
or your words

I'm drowning in an hourglass
As time slowly crushes me

There's a lot in my mind,
And a ton on my heart
There's so much fear
A lot more anger
Quite a bit of resentment
And a good amount of frustration

I'm sitting at a crossroads

I don't remember what road I took to get here

And there are 4+ roads that I could travel down
I have no clue where to go
And even worse... I think I'm chasing away anyone who can help

Frankly, I think you could do a lot better than me.
And as I write it,
There's a lot of pain there
But I feel like it's true

I don't want to cause anyone stress
I don't want to be a burden
And when it's me and sunny beaches,
I wouldn't blame you for choosing beaches
I'd encourage it

I'm sorry.

I had a dream last night
I was a Pterodactyl
But that's beside the point

When I was human
In my dream
I hooked up with women
As far as the eye could see
(Maybe 2 or 3)

I knew these women
I went to school with them

But every time I touched,
Kissed,
Nuzzled with any of them
It felt wrong
I was disgusted
And it hurt

And as a Pterodactyl
I couldn't glide
So I hit the pavement
Hard
Even though it was really windy

I remember that time,
You know,
That time when we were side by side
We'd done it many times together
Clothes on
But this was different
We were vulnerable
We were quiet
And we were flesh

And now, I'm sitting here
In a jumble of emotion
Replaying everything
I am an absolute ****-***

I've eaten
I've slept
I don't know what the hell's wrong here

I miss you
And yet I'm so angry
I'm failing
And I need a crutch terribly
I'm looking for anyone to lean on

And right now, I'm faking being ok.
And I'll keep doing it
Because, in reality, I could be a total ****
And this is me unraveling
Everything that's causing me the least bit of stress
Watch me burst at the seams
Scarecrow with mental issues

I am beyond ****** up, and you're still around?
Why is this happening, and why are you here?
More than that, why am I writing this
Sad sack of ******* that is called a poem?

Poetry is beautiful
Poetry is poignant
I'm being annoying
I'm being childish
I'm being immature
I'm being ridiculous

And God, God why are you so near?
But you feel so distant...
And I feel like I have all of hell's respite on
my back
And there's nothing
******* nothing that's doing a **** thing for me right now

Not liqour
Not love
Not happiness
Not Joy

I spout off at the mouth
And people think I'm more ****** up than I feel
That situations are worse than they really are
I need to work at this communication thing,
Or maybe I'm as ****** up as people think
Or worse...
Maybe I'm completely normal