Foot hits the pavement
Alleviating impatience
Lighter than a feather
To better cushion the jaded

Stomping through the cemetery
The behemoth breaks his back
Stumbling over tombstones
Seemingly jagged in every crack

A man, half a monster,
Half a mouse, mostly bleeding
Drowning in the oxygen bank
Indian given breathing

When the rabbits loose their roots
Aside trees what speak and breathe
The kings are parted out
While the beasts break even clean

I am so ******* scared of losing you

for a really long time I was just nice to people but they walked all over me
about the time I started loving you I figured that if I could stand up for myself you'd like me
but now I'm an "*******" and I
"used to be nice."
but being an ******* is all I can do for people to not walk all over me,
and I only changed because I thought you would like me.

you won't even look at me in school,
but when I show up unannounced
on Sunday mornings with smoothies,
your mom welcomes me in,
you descend the stairs with your graceful, conservative foxtrot of a gait.
you hug me hello and we laugh about things like normal people.
your dad comes in from the yard work to say hello to me,
ask me where I'm headed to college.
everything is the way it should be but
you won't even look at me in school.

every summer, your freckles come out like a broad Irish galaxy.
the planets are summer days that I wish I could waste with you.
and there is a star for every single dance I wish I'd have had with you.
an asteroid belt of insults and haphazard tweets.
but I slide on, a lonely astronaut,
skimming your freckled universe.

for the first time, I have my hands on your hips,
and if I were a betting man I'd say the third shot of gin
is who put them there.
I am staring at your lower lip,
and you're staring at my eyes, or something.
the part of my brain that hasn't been inundated by alcohol is begging me to stop,
but the rest of me is begging you to never let go once your cold hands find my burning neck.

Before I was a poet who didn't know what he wanted to be
Lost in tragedy always being looked down upon by thee
I was never good enough no matter what I did
Always sitting in the darkest corner wondering why this had to be
Always crying becoming the pathetic boy they pushed upon me
But now that I think about it...
I should be laughing not crying
Thanking not dying
Smiling not pouting
I mean it's my birthday after all
I'm finally seventeen soon to be thirty
I don't care that I'm not the best at what I do
Or that i probably won't ever be
But one thing I promise to thee
All these years you were wrong about me
You don't know me
The obstacles I survived to get to where I am
The battles I fought losing parts of me
I would love to see how you survive my war
But until you fight it...
Don't do me
I don't care about your back story;
You sure as hell don't care about mine,
But you see...
To be or not to be
The thing is I am me,
And I am proud to be

i see so much of myself in you,
and you have such subtle give in your conviction,
your eyes are like mirrors,
your heart a hardwood floor,
but someone has ripped the barre
from this ballet studio,
i find no place in you
to steady myself.