I just sent an email to my Mom.
Part of me feels it
Part of me wonders if I'm overdramatic

I feel like ****.
Like, I feel different than when I felt depressed
But this is still not a place I want to be

Consistent
Draining
I never feel ok anymore.
I'm not even sure what ok feels like.

I keep wanting to drink for all the wrong reasons
I never get drunk
But I always want to reach that happy nirvana
That "tipsy enough to forget all your worries" place
There's something seriously wrong with me

I haven't actually talked to my family in AZ for over a month
I schedule skype dates with a woman I'll probably never see again
More than I do with my own father.
What type of **** is that?

I looked at ****, I ****** myself today.
I feel like the biggest ******* this planet has seen.

I also lack self forgiveness.

I got an email back from a priest today.
I told him I'd be interested in joining the priesthood
I realized I might have been lying,
But honestly,
I don't even know!
I feel like I'm sitting on my thumb,
Trying to figure out the world as it
Races by me,
Unwilling to stop and allow me to catch my breath
Or read the signs or understand a **** shred of anything

This is what I'm talking about
Part of me feels this,
And the other part just scoffs, and says I'm melodramatic
Pick yourself up
Dust yourself off and figure out
what the hell you're doing

I feel so alone anymore.
Like, if there's not someone by my side
I somehow lack basic humanity.
Like I need someone to be there
If they aren't, I'm obviously not worth much

I closed the blinds four different times today.
I didn't want the neighbors to see my actions.
After a certain point, I closed them to watch a movie
And I haven't opened them back up,
even though
it would probably cheer me up a great deal

This is probably one of the longest "poems"
I've ever written.
It's not poetry, it's freestyle
Not like it matters,
It's like an art major defining the different strokes that an artist used in a painting
Like I give a ****
It's still a painting

Lent is one of the hardest times of the year.
I feel it with every fiber of my being.
Nothing about this situation makes me feel ok.
I feel out of body, out of mind, out of soul.
I'm pretty sure, at this point, St. Peter wouldn't let me in.
In my heart of hearts I want it desperately, but
The rest of me still says no.

I'm so messed up it's ridiculous.
And I sent an email to my mom chronicling her son's failures
Her son's issues,
And why,
Her son
Needs to go back to a counselor
Because I'll be ****** if he's not "fixed" yet.

"Patience is a virtue"
My mother used to say
I wonder if she'd say the same
Seeing as it will be my demise
Three long weeks since I got that slip
I wonder how long I'll have
To wait...

Questions brought by vague answers
Patience will be my demise
Do I wait?
Or is that what kills me?
Surely if it were,
"Im" would fall before the word on the slip...
What if patience leads to something?
Questions...
    Questions...
        Questions...

Art work in pencil
Peach shadows on the outline of everything
Jaw lines, good times
Trees in the park
Dinosaur tracks and Fedex Fax

Librarians don't do their job

I was talking about shadows
Then my mind was robbed

There needs to be a change in the way I act
I'm wasting my time here
Videos, games, internet, facebook
Whatever I can get my hands on

There's a greater destination here
Of that I'm (mostly) sure
There was something there
Something felt
I don't want to be the man I am
If 'man' is the proper term for what I am

I can claim nothing
For I am nothing
I am no greater than the least of these
And I never have been
Take away all that I am
Strip me of everything I claim

From dust to dust
Ashes to ashes

"I've decided to turn this around"
Said the captain to the crew
"I realize now, that what I sought was
Immolation. It's been a week, now, and
we've been sailing ever further into oblivion."

"No one's said otherwise; however, I knew
the thoughts, 'We shall all die; these clouds are
getting darker by the moment.' I understand;
and I'm sorry. From this moment forward, there
will be a focus on the bluer hue of the sky,
The sunlight as it shines off of the wetted feathers
of the birds that have only recently taken flight."

"I'm making this an order: we shall turn back now.
There was no treasure where we set to sail, no hidden
secrets. The only thing that awaited us was death
and its keeper."

She held that note tighter than she'd held him;
it was all she had left.

Call it prolific
Monoliths
Monolithic
Amnesia
And pill popping

I like words
I like how they taste as they flow
From my mouth,
From my fingers,
Into your ears
Your eyes
I'm inside you.

I've never really understood that
****** conquest
(I changed pages on you)
Like, we should be proud, as men
That we've been inside someone

"I put my **** in that"
Congratulations, Charlie!
You came!
Honorary meetings
Magna *** Laude
(Did I change pages again?)

Vulgarity
Shame on you Catholic boy!
Shouldn't you be whining about *** scandal?
Talking about pro-life?
Hating the gays?

Misconceptions
Misnomers
Misconstrue my meanings
Misplace the common denominator
Math is always interesting.

Drive off the edge of a shallow cliff
Congrats, you've made it off the curb

Doing drastic things has never been my specialty
Let's live vicariously through someone else
I won't feel anything
But that cuts both ways

Melodramaticism spills forth onto a page that exists
Only because we want it to.
Philosophy in this place
Semantics in schools

School of thought
School of rot
School of wrought

Insides sink like they're covered in ink
Resting in my pelvis

Anatomy is for the birds
But people have it too

I'm still waiting,
Haven't you heard?
I'm still a ******.
Wrong wait,
As in: wait here just a little
I've got more to say

Feeding experiments to those most hungry
Let's secretly give syphilis.

Disgusting peoples live throughout our days
The devil and God are raging inside of me
Let's be brand new

Just nonsense,
drivel
Welcome to my poetry
There's meaning here, seriously
Just, please, don't let go of me.

I sipped again
Slipped is similar,
But I'm not falling here,
I'm drinking.

Lusting
I can't get enough
And at the worst times
I'm slipping while sipping
And the cup spills across
My face

Visual destruction
Sink an anchor into my chest
And drop me into the waters
It won't be that hard;
I've been leaving myself open.

I swim to the surface,
Only to cut my own hamstring
So I can sink back into oblivion.

The fish aren't my friends here

"What do you think my brain is made for
Is it just a container for the mind?
That big grey matter."

Lyricism in abundance
Dear Ocean,
Continue your Orange
Haze

Flipping Channel
in Sierra Leone
Only to Start
Thinking About You

Sweet Life is all but in our grasp
We're Super Rich Kids but this isn't Just Money
Pyramids to hold our possessions
We should make sure we use Fertilizer
On the lawn before we go

Crack Rock dear Pilot Jones
Let's get Lost until we see
White skies and Monks
Following a Bad Religion

Forrest Gump will meet
Us at the End
Tell us what life is, Frank,
One more time.

A knife in the back of the collective man
Let's start with something drastic

Fire for fire
Dear fireman
Lit a match to find
the matchstick

I've been slowly
Draining my own
Life
What I do might surprise you

I know where you are
Dear prey
I know

I know where you are
Dear, pray
I know

Wordplay and associates
Let's make a collective
Trying hard to sound
Indulgent
Let's be protective

Plastic linings
and glad tidings
Keep away the kids

Pills from Docs
and bills from Crocs
We're living in the skids

******* away our youth in Jack
Let's pour another round

I want to be the man you run to
The man you're glad you found

They say miming of one's work is the best flattery
Those scientists better check their hypotenuses

Poem getting grizzly
***** better have my honey

Off to dinner tonight,
This is starting off like a journal entry

I often wonder if I'm meant for someone else
Here
In this world
Or is it bigger than that?

Dinner tonight
Not romantic
Far from it
Discernment
Priesthood
And please don't mention *** scandal

Solo until the day I die
That's what I'm looking at
But my scope is so...
Narrow
So...
Earthly

Instead of a father of offspring
A father of peoples
A father of the church
A person who can set people towards a righteous path

But let's be honest,
I'm far from righteous.
I talk a good talk
But my walk is a sad limp

I pray before I eat,
But "forget" in the hustle
and bustle of work and life

If Christ is supposed to be my center
I'm way off target
Another god seems to follow me
Another trip to Target

I'm consistently surrounded by choice
In the day to day
But instead of choosing right
I go with "**** what the haters say"
I could have bleeped that out, you know
Nullified it,
But I'd rather be raw
And let you see that side of it

This is serious business,
and no less a journal entry
I tried to change it into poetry
but I'm way off target

Posh poetries in the minds of the youth
Aren't we all such genius minds?
(Doesn't that sound cool? I'm just puffing smoke!)

Pretty women, walking by
Men that lack a stronger eye
(It rhymes, but I mean willpower)

Just in case you didn't know,
I assume you do.
(Once again, I'm talking about my
analogies and wordplay)

Talking in text
Because face-to-face is awkward
But your smile downplays it,
And I'm happy to bask in it
(It being the awkward situation for you
grammar nuts out there.)

I figure I'd be funny
Poetry like Bugs Bunny
I just hope it's a little more "PC"
(Politically-correct, Bugs Bunny was not, though
funny he was.
If you don't know who Bugs is, educate yourself!
You sadden me.)

Procrastinating

At least it's with writing

Over a period of two days,
I had two inquiries of my own relational status
I also forgot milk, chicken, and various meat products
shoved together, shaped like tubes.

I switched my ring to my right hand
After that

Maybe people will get the picture
I'm not committed
There's no "other" to this significant

That sounds prideful
I don't mean it as such
I just know that I mean something
I'm here for something
That's more than I'd normally say on the subject
Downplay

I switched my ring to my right hand
Right before I got back all my various foods
I sit now, in a dimly lit living room
Illuminated with nothing but a distant light
And this computer screen

This poem has schizophrenic meanings
I hope I'm not committed.

Jagged edges on straight laced papers
Isn't it funny how we leave our marks?
Students with graphite or blue, possibly black, ink
Creation
Thoughts on paper
Words into sentences
Sentences into paragraphs
Paragraphs into papers
Papers into wood
Wood into trees
Trees into seeds
Seeds into the hands of the farmers
Sending their loved ones off to learn
To leave their mark
Starting with graphite or blue, possibly blank, ink

Looks small
Such piercing words
Such lack of care

Slamming letters onto paper
This is macaroni art for adults

Forgive me for being away,
I haven't stopped, you know
I've just become selective
Not that it'll show

I still write first-drafts
And pass them off as final

I'll show you some real stuff
This is cd vs. vinyl

Bones before antlers
Let's see the splinters

Irritation propagation
You really know my buttons

Walk around once
Walk around twice
Can't stop unless we say

I remember this being far easier
Yesterday

*******.
Seriously,
I'd love to.

I mean, I thought things had changed
I thought we were friends
But the minute I saw you twirling your hair,
Fixing what I never thought was broken
****.

I don't even want lust,
I want you.

You

Always

I know things have changed in your eyes
Breaking up,
Without a relationship
We are not together,
We never were.

Can you stay here forever?
I don't want to let go of
Your
Picture
Your
Face

"I sound like a teenager."
She said reading her own
Work
That goes both ways now,
Both ways

Slim regrets and
Fatal forget-me-nots
I like to write what
Sounds thought provoking
However, much like
the wizard of Oz,
My secret is my lack of power
Behind the veil you find
A man
No different from any other
In fact, my life is no tragedy:
I still have a father and mother.

So what am I, really?
A sham, a fake, a crock?
Fact is I am a man
Who can find a word
That rhymes with sock.

I await a slip of paper
Foretelling of my death
I await a slip of paper,
For I've not received it yet.

I've staved my curiosity,
Like a tiger in a cage
However, eventually
Tigers want to eat,
To hunt,
To be satiated
And so does my curiosity.

Though morbid,
Though vague,
I wish to know my end
By fire,
By age,
By disease
or by vehicle?

Vague enough to open questions,
Concrete enough to give me something
I want to know
How I'll die.

The reaper with his crystal ball
Stares
With no eyes
From the faded machine
A hand reaching from the coin
Slot
Reaching to shake mine
"Congratulations, you've paid
the piper, child."
The reaper says,
But only in my day dreams

I want to know my death,
Wow, this takes forever,
I've paid the toll,
I've done what's necessary!
Why is there no paper in my hand!

Wait, I hear printing!
My heart, is sprinting in my chest!
Oh dear heaven above!
I get to know my death, God!
You can't hide it from me forever!

The slip of paper finishes through the machine
Printed, it spits out at me.
I take it, gingerly, excited all the while
To know my death, oh death machine,
Will make me smile.
I stare at it, giving great diligence
To find that I'll die by...

Patience

Depression made me want to not wake up.

Love?
Ridiculous, I don't feel it.

Care?
Is it there? What's it feel like?

Numbness?
There we go, I feel that.
But
Can you feel numbness
Or does it enfold you?
Engulf you?
A true darkness, makes your rose colored shades
Far darker
Remember all the things you loved to do?
You don't, with these lenses.
Remember all your loved ones?
Remember the feelings you had for them?
Had.
Welcome to depression, son.
***** doesn't it. You want out,
You want to bail this ship,
Swim outside the darkness,
But it engulfs, and refuses to
Let you swim away.
The Kraken of emotional duress.

Just wait for someone who's a better swimmer,
Find someone with a brighter light,
I had to.
Apparently I didn't know how to swim.

Dear convictions,
Lose me friends
I knew it'd happen, truly

Let us face it,
We are all terrified of this

I say this over
and over
and over
and over and over
and over
and over
I've said it over
and over
and over
and over
and over
I'll say it over
and over
and over
and over
and over:
I consistently
disappoint
no one
but myself

I've been gone a while,
You noticed that?
I saw you sitting in this house
Posh
Continuing your brilliant abilities

It wasn't that I felt neglected,
No, never
You offer me more than I could put into words
I just felt I had nothing to offer

I went to a cabin in the woods
Not too far from here
But far enough that I wouldn't think of you too often
The lake was serene,
But my thoughts were chaotic

To be honest,
I don't think I'm better
I don't think I'm ready for this
I know that I don't love yet,
And I know that I'm selfish

In all honesty,
I came back to this house
This beautiful architecture
Because I knew you'd listen.