Why do we adventure?
Because we are

I adventure
Because I am
I adventure
Simply because
I exist

Without adventure
Life is worthless

Flashback to as far back as the mind goes,
Masculinity is mighty and feminism is flawed,
Man is right and woman is wrong,
Boy is strong and girl is weak,
I’m a gentleman as long as I’m on top,
She can’t speak unless spoken to,
No place for women at the pulpit,
Men can’t learn from lesser beings.

Flashback to four years old,
The first time he was told,
Homosexuals will burn eternally,
Because they’re *******,
He said God doesn’t love them,
They’re an abomination to creation.

Flashback to age twelve,
Welcome to the USA,
Export the Mexicans,
Eliminate the rag heads,
Burn the gays.

Flashback to seventh grade,
She left him for her,
The hate talk convinced him,
All gays were wrong always.

Flashback to freshmen year,
It was Halloween,
Debate class in the morning,
She was dressed as a nerd,
But obviously that so wasn’t her,
Because she was Iranian,
He asked where her turban was,
Said her outfit wasn’t complete without it.

Flashback to the close-minded, conservatively, homeschooled child,
Racism was as familiar as his father’s laugh,
Sexism known like the scent of his mother’s casseroles,
Ignorance was his bestfriend,
And hate pumped through his veins.

I don’t know if right wing racist remarks are forgivable,
But the one he was bred to despise showed nothing but forgiveness.

The Iranian girl shed tears,
Which caused him to shed his foggy lens,
For the first time, he saw his own sins,
A joke rooted in hate hurt an innocent girl,
An innocent tear hurt an ignorant boy,
I am an ignorant boy,
I felt her pain,
I stabbed myself with shame,
She befriended me,
She forgave.

Flawed people produced twisted identification,
She isn’t the Iranian girl,
Just a person.

Mexican, black, dark skinned, or light,
Christian, Atheist, Muslim,
Left wing or right,
Straight, gay, man, woman,
Irrelevant.

Mexican, black, dark skinned, or light,
Christian, Atheist, Muslim,
Left wing or right,
Straight, gay, man, woman,
Human.

Church
A place we call sacred
Though it is far from holy
Plagued by the lying,
Fake, judgmental, deceptive, wannabe,
Overly religious, ignorant, bigot, crazy,
Hypocritical curse upon society known
As Christian

A place said to be filled with love
So sadly love is not the first thing seen
Rather, we feel the ever-watching eye
Looking down because our clothes don’t
Seem as clean, our shoes are not free
From dust, our scars, they bring disgust

But not all who walk these golden
Streets of Christianity bring hate
Some do not raise their head so high

These few who know love
This minority who is actually true
They are the church

Even though these phony haters
Infiltrate the lovers’ ranks
They are not Christian
They are not the church
They’re nothing but arrogant imposters
And close-minded fools

A tree must bear fruit to be a fruit tree
Likewise a Christian must bring forth
Faith and hope and love
They must bear their fruit
Otherwise these Christians
Are not so Christian after all

So remember, the church is this group of
People who love, not the building
Filled who those who destruct

Reciting bible verses empty as my soul
Pulpit preaching lacking evidence
Words without action
Love abandoned

I want a dad not a ******* preacher.

I asked my friend once
Why he cuts himself
His reply was completely sensible to me
Though others might say it was senseless
But so heart wrenching was the reply
So real that it made me cry

He said
I cut myself to make sure I'm alive
Because pain is the only emotion
That throughout my life
Has been able to thrive
But every time I cut, I think
If I can feel pain,
Maybe another emotion has survived

You see
There's this thread that is tied around my heart.
But it's not just tied around my heart
It's tied from my brain to my heart
To my soul to everything around me
To everything within me to all that surrounds me.

There are many things attached to this string
The closer they are to the end
Wrapped around my heart
The bigger the knot they form
And the bigger the knot is
The easier I can feel them

There is one emotion
I feel every single time my heart beats
That emotion is pain
Through past, present, future
Throughout my entire life
That emotion has never ceased

Pain is so close to my heart
On the thread of emotion
That maybe if I feel the pain
I'll be able to feel the emotion
That is one step further than pain
And then the emotion beyond that

I cut myself because if I can feel pain
I might be able to feel hope next
And I might feel happiness after that
And maybe, just maybe
Someday, because of the pain,
I'll be able to feel love

I asked my friend once
Why he cuts himself
His reply was simple
He said
Because sometimes,
Cutting is all that keeps us alive

Rap songs, television, social networks, *******,
Media always seems to connect a woman’s worth with her body.
Our culture would like us to believe that girls exist
To make boys confident in their masculinity.
According to our broken society,
Females are just objects with which man can devour in his sick and twisted fantasies.

You’re told that you are just a play piece
In some perverted creature’s phantasmagoric wonderland.
Nothing more than an image for a debauched man
To indulge in selfish desires with his filthy hand

Unless you have a ***** chest,
Can shake your *****, or move your body smoothly,
You’re completely worthless.

****. *****. *****.  
Such words have been deemed acceptable
To call girls on a regular basis
And apparently if you’re joking
It’s not only accepted but also humorous

“You are too skinny.
You’re too fat.
You’re too short, too tall,
Not pretty enough, not **** enough,
Your hair is too rough,
Too much acne and not enough make up,
Your eyelashes aren’t long enough.”

No matter how hard you try,
Somebody will find a way to tear you down
Until you cry.
They will find a way to make sure you know
That you are simply not good enough.

But it’s not just the media that treats ladies like they’re beneath man’s feet.

Even the church will turn you into nothing.
They conceal their objectification underneath a façade of purification,
All the while only bringing condemnation.

Put on some clothes or you’re going to go to hell.
Usually it’s not that direct.
But what the heck,
That’s what they’re saying.
Jesus’ love is obviously not what they’re portraying.

“Modest is hottest.”
I have heard that phrase hundreds of times before.
In fact, I used to say it.
But then I realized by saying it
I’m using the same approach as everyone else.
When I said it, I turned women into objects.
Maybe it was a more pleasant object, but nevertheless, an object, a piece of flesh.

They say that it’s better for you to wear a one piece and ditch the bikini.
And that you shouldn’t wear shorts above your knees.
They say by wearing extra clothes you’re just doing your duty
And helping a brother out.

But they have this expectation that it’s your obligation
to overcome their ******* for them.

Don’t get me wrong,
I love when a girl is genuinely sweet enough
To go out of her way just to keep my lustful thoughts at bay.

And I’m not saying women should run around naked either.
I appreciate a girl who wears clothing
I’m just saying the only reason a girl should cover up
Is because she has self-respect.

It isn’t her job to combat man’s wicked thoughts.

Instead of dealing with their problem,
These Christian boys decide to point fingers and say that women are to blame.
“If only she would put on more clothes I wouldn’t watch **** or *******.”
That is such a lie!
If men successfully got women to wear clothes that covered every bit of skin,
They would still find ways to imagine.

She does not need to put on more clothing so that you will stop *******.
Men need to take responsibility and stop objectifying.

When women speak this truth,
The guys say they don’t understand
Because they’re not a man.
But I am of your species.
I’ve had the same thoughts, same dreams, same fantasies.
I understand!
I have to fight lust everyday.
I have to use every ounce of strength
To turn my eyes away from that computer screen.
I know what it’s like to be a dude.
I’m one of you.
I was the boy who hid behind a mask
And tried to say it wasn’t my fault.
But we have to open our eyes and see that we are at fault.

It is not her fault that she is told day after day
That unless she reveals skin,
She will never be loved by him.

What is wrong with our society?!
Do we actually think that it’s okay to treat women like this?
You are not a piece of meat
For this animal called man to hunt during his daily heat!
You are a human being!
You are special and unique.
You are all one of kind.
You are not an object.
You are not the ***** words they call you.
You’re mothers, daughters, sisters, and lovers.
You are not a *** image.
You are a princess.
You deserve so much more than you have been given.
If you took everything this world had to offer and multiplied it by five thousand,
You would still be worth more than what we have to offer.  
Every single woman on this earth is lovely, and not in a lustful way.

"Good morning Mattie! How'd you sleep?"
"Oh, I slept wonderfully!
I fell asleep quickly and didn't work until morning."
"Any cool dreams?"
"Oh no, you know I don't remember my dreams."

I laid on my back for an eternity,
While my mind bled uncontrollably,
Painful thoughts flowing.
They won't leave me.
LEAVE ME BE!
It takes hours for me to fall asleep
And when I finally do,
I wake every half hour because...
Well I don't know why.
Maybe because my brain is too lonely.
I guess he needs someone to keep him company.
So he wakes me, begging to help him think.

Of course I have dreams!
I just lie so you won't ask.
My own dreams sicken me.
It's the only time I lose control.
I am a monster in my sleep.

"How are you?"
"I'm great!
How are you?"

I almost killed myself today!
Why can't I go back to first grade,
Where the hardest choices were choosing
Which game I should play,
Or how to convince my mom to let me
Wear my favorite jeans,
Instead of those silly looking corduroy?
Does my Darth Vader action figure win today,
Or is he defeated by my batman toy?
Do I climb the tree from this branch,
Or that side?
Oh none of that matters anyway.
Because if I don't find the answer,
I'll just be the incredible Hulk
On my trampoline and dodge
The sprinkler's water bullets.

I guess the hard things in life change.
My decisions were a little different today.
Do I slit my throat and watch it bleed,
Or pop the pills to set myself free?
Or maybe I shouldn't end today,
I could just use the razor blade,
And wear my heart on my sleeve.
Or no, my scars on my sleeves.
Or no.. My heart on my wrists?
I DON'T KNOW!

So maybe I'm not so great.
I don't know if I'm depressed.
I think I'm just lost.
I'm happy when I'm with people.
But when I'm alone,
I think a little too much.
I get sad often.
Okay so maybe I am a little depressed,
Maybe a tiny little bit.
I'd just hate to admit it.

When I was little,
I would get annoyed with emo kids.
I was convinced depression was fake.
It was a mind game.
"If you want to be happy,
Just be happy."
I'd say.
"Depression happens because
You want to be sad"
Well I sure don't want to be sad!
Or maybe I do.
It gives me something to write about.
No, I definitely don't want to be depressed!

When I lay in my bed,
I ponder for hours how many times
I lied today.
I didn't lie.
Why would I?
Well maybe I lied once or twice.
But that's just because I didn't want them to know,
It was a bad day.
But then I can't help but wonder
If something else I said was a lie.
What is the truth?
I get so confused.

Maybe it's because I've had my fair share of memory loss,
Or maybe I've lied so much that I've forgotten the truth.

I really don't think it's the second option,
But I can't help but wonder.

I wish we didn't lie so much.
I wish we could tell the truth,
Even when it hurt.
I dream of a world where our pains,
Are not contained within.
But one that we could walk without chains,
Free of our masks.
Why must we lie?

It’s on nights like these
You feel like it isn’t worth
Going on another day
It hurts too bad
When you try to stay
It feels like your only options
Are the razor blade
Or leaving this place

But before you give up
Let me tell you a story

This isn’t an ordinary story
It’s a true story
But at the same time
I’m making it up right now

There was this girl
Her name was Abigail
Abigail was a caterpillar

She was born with many siblings
Lots of brothers and lots of sisters
They were a pretty happy family

But when they were still young
All of her siblings were murdered
As were her parents
Abigail was left completely alone

It took her a little while to get the
Hang of surviving on her own
But eventually she did

It was just after she got used to living on her own
That it seemed like things when downhill again

Abigail liked food. A lot.
She couldn’t control herself
She tried eating healthy things
Like salad and fruit
But she ate so much that even
The healthy food made her gain weight

She ate food
She dreamed food
She lived food
Abigail became obsessed with food

As if being overweight
Wasn’t bad enough
She was constantly made fun of
Because of her eating habits

Abigail’s biggest dream
Was to fall in love
But it seemed impossible
Because she was always torn down

She used to think that
If someone would just give her a chance
They would maybe possibly like her
And someday they might even
Fall in love with her
She was sure that true beauty
Was stored in her heart
Not in how thin her body was

But as the bullying continued
She decided she wasn’t beautiful
Not even on the inside

It was at this point
Abigail decided to commit suicide

She didn’t have pills
She didn’t have a knife
She didn’t have anything that kills
Or anything to take her life

She was sitting in her room
When she decided to die
And the only thing near
Was a silk blanket

She decided that she would suffocate
Herself with the blanket
Slowly, she wrapped herself in silk
She took one deep breath
And she squeezed her eyes tight
As she released that last breath
Her eyes relaxed

But she didn’t die
She opened her eyes
When she awoke
She felt like she was in a new life
She looked in the mirror
Abigail was a butterfly

She had to endure the trials of life
In order to become the beauty
That is a butterfly

In the deepest pain
Abigail found life

Just when the caterpillar
Thought her world was over
She became a butterfly

I will marry the first girl
That brings me a cinnamon roll.

Just kidding, That's shallow.
But I really do want
A cinnamon roll right now.

And if a girl were to bring me one
I probably wouldn't be able to resist
The unrelenting pull of the universe
Forcing me to fall in love with that girl.

Life is not what I thought,
Nothing is as it seemed,
I thought I knew
Thought I had it figured out.

But now,
It’s like I’ve been kicked to the ground.

The friends I thought I had,
The God I thought I knew,
The answers I once had,
They’ve abandoned me.

They’ve left me,
Bitterly alone.

I’m not sure what to do,
Seek God where I am?
Or run away to find something new?

All I want,
Is to know truth,
I don’t care about anything else,
I just don’t want to be confused.

Where is peace in this world of pain?

I'm going to have the best life
In the whole wide world.
I am going to be so so so happy.
I want to grow up so badly.

The words of a different boy,
What happened to me?

My mind was in the clouds.
My heart was in the skies.
My soul, never slowing down.

I ran forward.
I was so distracted looking up,
I didn't realize there was no longer
Ground beneath my feet.
With one final step,
Joy,
Ambition,
Hope,
They plummeted off the cliff.
As that last bit of ground disappeared,
My happiness was replaced with fear.

I wanted to grow up so badly.
Life granted my wish.

"Let's play a game,
It's a secret game,
Just you and me,
Promise not to tell anybody.

Take off your pants,
Don't you trust me?
We're family."

I wanted to grow up so badly.
Life granted my wish,
She stole my innocence.

Sorry Matt,
He's gone.

How is a little kid supposed to accept death like that?
I never knew this type of pain.
The lack of knowledge was replaced with a lack of sleep.
Don't close your eyes,
You'll just see his face.

The last gift he gave me was a knife.
I don't want to live without him.
I don't want to live today.
Maybe I'll see him if I use this blade.
His death first, mine next.
Let's introduce steel to my chest.

I wanted to grow up so badly.
Life granted my wish,
She gave me his death and asked for mine.

Your condition is severe.
According to the scans,
Your brain's due date is near.
You're gonna die unless we operate.

I'll be fine,
This is just a step in my life.
It's just a phase,
I'll be healthy in a matter of days.

But on the inside I questioned my life.
What if I die today,
What if I die tonight?
Confidence flickers like candlelight.
The candle caught fire and it all began to burn.
My memories turned to ash,
And confidence flew with the wind.

I can't remember anything,
I can't remember me.
I have a name,
I have stories.
But I've lost the ability to see.

I wanted to grow up so badly.
Life granted my wish,
She let me taste death and took my security.

"Can you take your brother to school?
I don't feel good this morning."
Six months later,
She's still in bed,
Still doesn't feel good,
Will she get better?
Will this ever end?

Tears staining the hospital floor,
How can so much pain come from a place of healing?

I wanted to grow up so badly.
Life granted my wish,
She tried to take my mom from me.

Five in the morning,
Another one gone.
I thought I had become numb,
But relapse came with the storm.
I can't take much more.

Her life traded for endless pain.
I'll never be alone,
When I have this loneliness to keep me company.
How many more must you take?
How many scars must you create?

I wanted to grow up so badly.
Life granted my wish,
She killed my best friend.

I have no where else to go,
There's no place for me.
Growing seems to be in reverse,
I'm dying slowly.

I wanted to grow up so badly.
But I never wanted God to abandon me,
I never wanted life to destroy me.
If this is what growing up is like,
I don't ever want to grow up again.

One year ago exactly, I awoke to the miserable news that my dear friend, Morgan Helman, was dead. I called her voicemail and wept my goodbyes. I punched the wall and screamed until I thought my lungs would crack. I wrote a poem to express the ravaging anguish I was experiencing, and to try and honor her life. I read it as a eulogy at her funeral. In it, I mentioned a time when she had asked me to write a happy poem. Everything I had ever written was a result of sadness or some other tortured emotion. I apologized that what I wrote for her was far from happy. I told her someday I would a write a happy poem, though I doubted my own words. One year later, I have walked away from the depressed mental state I used to call home. On the anniversary of her passing, I completed this "happy" poem. It's different than what I'm used to creating. It might not be as artistic as some of my other poetry. But it is a vivid expression of the first step in a new direction. This poem is dedicated to Morgan Helman and the legacy of love she left in her wake.

You Are

Resonating laughter
as the child plays,
hallway smiles
on bad days.

Disney movies
when I'm sick,
lightsaber battles
as a kid.

Rope swings
for make believe Peter-Panning,
backyard sprinklers
spraying the trampoline.

Hot soup
after it snows,
Refreshing popsicles
when the sun glows.

Warm cookies
melting in my mouth,
playing cards
at Grandma's house.

Blazing campfires
engulfed in inspiration,
jam sessions
with passionate musicians.

Barefoot freedom
in the grass and on the beach,
Sandy paradise
sinking beneath my feet.

Captivating books
as it gently rains,
favorite songs
when I'm disarrayed.

Intimate poetry
as my soul sings,
genuine happiness
spilling out of me.

Caring parents
whose admiration lasts,
trustworthy friends
who remove my masks.

Comforting arms
when my friend dies,
calloused hands
pulling tears from drowning eyes.

Raw love
strung on splintered wood,
My God
you are everything good.

~ m.w. ~

One of the saddest things to me
Is how my generation
Has been deceived to believe
That there are rules
To poetry

That thought is absurd and profane
I’d even take another step
And call it inhumane

Poetry is an expression of being
A way to be free

I finished writing this poem
When I realized something
This doesn’t just apply to poetry
But to all writing

Essays and poems and stories
If we all wrote the same way
We would be so boring

Write different
Write about what you want
Not what they say
Do the complete opposite
Of their way

But it’s not just about writing different
It’s how your pencil
Or other writing utensil
Moves across the paper
It’s about the breath you take
Right before you pour
Your heart on the white sheet
It’s about the way you see

So don’t just write things differently
Write in your own way
Create a new style
And then you’ll know
You’ve gone the extra mile

I finished this poem again
Thought now would be a great time to end
And then I realized something more
This isn’t just about writing
This is life
Break those rules
Don’t conform

It’s not just about breaking rules
Or being some kind of lawless hipster
It’s about being yourself

It’s not always about where you go
No, sometimes it’s about how you flow

There’s something special
Buried deep inside
It’s chained down
Release it
And it will give you life

Yes
I guess you can follow
The rules and regulations
If you enjoy being assimilated
Into a system
That was better
Before it existed

You have two options
Pretend you never saw this
And stay hopeless
Or stand up
And become righteous
I highly suggest the second
But of course
I’m biased
Because I hate the idea
Of being hopeless

You have the ability
To be something
Wonderfully crazy
Something that no one else can be
Because you are you
Different than me
So be your own
Not some societal clone
Be you and you alone

I urge you
Stand against conformity
Don’t be he or she or me
Be something completely unique

While driving home today,
a small boy pretended to shoot
at my van with his toy rifle,
as if I were the bad guy.

Our culture is fighting to strip
our children of violence,
"guns are a danger
and they pervert our sons."

I agree,
we should be purposeful
on how we raise our kids.
Violence is not always
healthy for the young heart.

I disagree,
we should not be dictatorial
on how we raise our kids.
Violence is not always
bad for the young heart.

Taking away guns from a boy
is taking away paints from an artist.
Stripping a son of his warrior-spirit
is stealing the melody of his song.

He was John Wayne
wielding his Winchester,
and I was the bad guy
escaping on a stolen horse.

In his mind,
he was a hero.
Why would you want
to strip him of that?

Teaching him self-control
is absolutely necessary,
but removing his ability to learn
is killing his growth as a person.

Don't be the reason he rebels,
teach him to use his sword.

*m.w.

we place immeasurable weight
on worthless unnecessaries
mindsets carousel pointless
reverberation off desolate hearts

school, jobs, money, houses,
cars, clothes, shoes, religion, media,
materialistic vacancy

food is waste
shelter is empty
water is dead

I don't want to survive
if I'm not alive

Sometimes when my mind drifts
it goes back to endless hallways
and that all too familiar scent
overtakes my senses

My spine actually cringes
at the thought of the needles
piercing the central nervous system
they forgot to numb

my thoughts swim in the pools
that formed in my mother's eyes
as she quoted the neurologist
"your son is dying."

I can still taste the confusion
that drowned my confidence
and left me wondering
if it'll ever resurface

my dreams never stopped crying,
if they even have the chance to exist
they're nothing short of terrifying,
nightmares replaced the rest

it's odd that I can remember
the sickness that consumed me
but completely and utterly forget
the happiness that prequeled it

I want to be the one
in their history books
the legend around the campfire,
a name they won't forget.

My heart longs for greatness,
my bones rattle at the thought
of changing this decrepit rock
into something beautiful again.

Wherever I turn my eyes,
people are breaking on the inside,
homes are burning from this pain;
I see creation crying for freedom.

Can I change anything?
This question keeps me awake,
weeping in the latest hours,
begging God to let me fight.

I hear their cries!
I see emptiness in their eyes,
lost children walking the streets,
asking "Why did he leave?"

How is it I love those I've never seen?
My soul aches for their suffering,
there are human beings dying
and nobody is doing anything!

When they asked me what
I wanted to be when I grew up,
It was always a hero,
someone who fought for others.

All my life I've cared too much,
I'm beginning to feel claustrophobic,
I was given this big heart,
then placed in a little world.

I fear I am simply crazy,
a senseless romanticist.
But I curse my insecurities,
they will not **** me!

My dreams are impossible,
they say it's just my youth,
I'll grow out of this heart,
and join the rest of society.

But I violently refuse!
Let me be a light in a dark room,
may I bring hope to all who breathe,
I give my life to change eternity!

*~ Matthew Walker ~

Thunderstorms twirl across my skin,
hurricanes dancing up my spine,
lightning erupts from her skies,
and I find myself enraptured inside.

I see galaxies form beneath her skin,
Supernovas waging war within,
fighting to escape her prisons,
and I'm praying she'll let them win.

If her melody is the universe,
I want to wake up beside the stars.
Let me sing in meteor-showers,
dance with Venus in the acid rain,
I'll skip in the asteroid fields,
jumping nebula fences,
because there's no limits;
the places she takes me are endless.


*~Matthew Walker~

My heart is racing faster than ever before,
my thoughts refuse to slow down,
everything inside of me is shaking,
all because the possibility of you and me.

I have never been this terrified in my life,
and you haven't the slightest clue,
you're causing flash floods in my veins  
every time you speak my name.

When you say I'm a good man,
I start to forget how to swim,
but if this is what you call drowning,
I don't ever want to breathe again.

I want to tell you how I feel,
but I'm trapped beneath the waves,
forming syllables is walking on water,
and I'm still caught in the storm.

*~ Matthew Walker ~

Human,
A vessel for pain.

I take,
I destroy,
I ravage.

Never looking back,
I burn all in my path.

It's the middle of the night
and I haven't figured out
if these feelings are lying
or if I'm only honest in the dark.

I feel alone every time
I slow down enough to feel
and I'm craving the feeling
your body beside me brings.

I'm not allowed to have you
and it's breaking every bone
inside my aching soul
at least that's my 1am feeling.

Sitting beside you for hours 
and talking about nothing 
that meant everything
is something worth missing. 

The way you scrunch up
your face when you laugh 
uncontrollably and the sound
that's adorable to only me
is something worth knowing. 

I've never met someone else
who cared enough to think
of me through the night
just because she thought 
I was something worth her time.

Laying on the floor crying
because I can't get your
flawless image from my mind
when you're clearly gone
is not worth our time. 

I'm truly sorry I faded
in and out of your life.
I wasted your time.
Your love was simplicity 
and I complicated it.

A few minutes ago my mind was much less blown than it is now.

We sat around the table, played risk, and ate McChickens.
But then as the craziness settled,
My dad said there was something we needed to discuss.
I thought he was gonna say I was slacking
And need to clean the house more often.
But then in an instant I saw this was much more serious.

He pulled up a chair,
Faced his kids,
And did everything he could to hold back the tears.

Our eyes only met for a spilt second.
But before he broke the gaze
I saw insecurity and pain.
I saw more brokenness
In my father than ever before.

As he tried to speak
It seemed like the necessary words
Had not yet been created.

He was unable to hold back the tears.
They decided to drip slowly.
He pressed his palms against his chest
As if he was trying to force out his last breath.
I swore in that moment he was having a heart attack.
But it wasn't a heart attack,
Just unending fear bottled up inside.

He started by saying,
"You have been walking on eggshells your entire life.
Everyone knows except you, my children.
There is another,
Your big brother."

When he was 18, he had a girlfriend.
Because of her, he's no longer a ******.
I have always believed
That my mother was the first.
But my brother, Justin, is proof that I was deceived.

After he was born,
It was decided that
My Dad wouldn't be allowed to see him.
The mother banished the father
And left the son fatherless.

She packed up and moved away.
My dad wasn't able to speak to them ever again.

Now that he's an adult,
He may be able to reach out to him.
I might have a big brother again.

My dad was afraid that this would
Somehow make me hate him.
He was overwhelmed with joy
When I said I absolutely forgave him.

Once he got those words out,
I almost saw the chains fall.
I watched him become free.
He was released.

This boy is twenty-three.
I didn't even know he existed,
And I'm not sure if he knows of me.

I wonder what he's like.
Does he smile often?
I wonder if he'd like me.
Is he happy?

When I was in the thick of it,
struggling with that depression and all it's horrors,
if I was having a really bad day,
I would climb out my bedroom window
and put a blanket on my roof
and lie there until the sun went down.
It's my favorite part of the day.
It just makes you feel good,
seeing something so beautiful, you know?
That's how I feel when I look at you.
There's a million sunsets in your eyes
and everything feels okay when they meet mine.
You are my favorite part of the day.

*~ Matthew Walker ~

I am fighting for the day
I will be happy at 2am,
my soul content at 3am,
and my heart at peace at 4am.

When I achieve this,
then I know I have made it.

No longer afraid of the dark,
insomnia replaced with rest,
my own thoughts stop haunting,
an end to the whispered weeping.

When I find this,
then I will know success.

Loneliness doesn't know my name,
depression loses his chance to invade,
love finds a home inside my ribcage,
my empty heart has been filled.

When I know this,
I have reached the finish.

*~ Matthew Walker ~

If you're the moon,
I'm the sun,
hopelessly chasing night
but you're on the run.

Or maybe I'm the tide.
and as I taste your shore,
I'm ****** out to sea,
desperately longing for more.

I never dreamed of being
your tragic impossibility,
but for you and me,
love was never meant to be.

*m.w.

I don't know your favorite tea.
I'm not sure how you get up when you're knocked down.
But I love the places you take me;
the shivers on my spine when you're around.

You've never told me your favorite color
or the things that break your heart.
I'm praying to God there's not another,
the thought of being without you is tearing me apart.

I don't know a thing about you,
but I'm already falling for you.
I don't know anything about you,
but I know I've gotta have you.

*~ m.w. ~

I miss you.

Though I've never felt your touch,
or heard your laugh,
or seen you cry,
or had a deep talk late into the night.

My chest literally aches physically
as I'm longing to be the one
you call when you need someone
and the one you know as your own.

How can a heart miss someone
it's never even known?
you have reshaped my ideas
and become my definition of love.

I miss you so
though you would never know
how my soul yearns for you
because you are not my reality.

I miss you so much.

This morning I told myself,
I will write a poem today,
But I ended up just hanging out,
With my friend named procrastinate.

8:30am
I was awakened,
Rolled over and saw my notes,
Poetry?
Nah, not yet.

10:00am
Lounging around,
It’s my lazy day,
Poetry?
Nah, not yet.

11:30am
Just finished showering,
Poetic thoughts ran through my mind,
While the water ran through my hair,
But now that I’m out,
I’m busy,
Poetry?
Nah, not yet.

12:30pm
My dad made me listen,
To a sermon with him,
I almost wanted to write a poem,
But I was preoccupied with Dr. Thompson,
Poetry?
Nah, not yet.

1:45pm
Money feels good in my hands,
But first I gotta do all this addition,
Time cards ****,
Poetry?
Nah, not yet.

3:00pm
I haven’t eaten anything today,
I’m starving,
Maybe because my refrigerator is empty,
I haven’t gone shopping in four weeks,
I should pay the grocery store a visit,
Poetry?
Nah, not yet.

5:45pm
Tacos sound good,
I have no clue how to make them,
But I guess I’ll give it a shot,
Poetry?
Nah, not yet.

6:45pm
Dang, that tasted awesome,
I should probably make something
Gross so I don’t let these cooking skills
Get to my head,
Poetry?
Nah, not yet.

7:00pm
It feels so good to sit down,
My new favorite show, Falling skies,
Is awaiting me on amazon prime,
Poetry?
Nah, not yet.

11:00pm
Four episodes in,
I’m officially addicted,
But I’ll let my brother use the TV now,
While I pass out on the couch,
Poetry?
Nah, not yet.

11:15pm
Crap…
I was gonna write a poem today,
What the heck am I supposed to write about?
Nothing serious is on my mind,
Depression, abuse, peace and war?
The only peace I’m thinking about is sleep,
Poetry?
Nah, not yet.

11:17pm
I guess I’ll let my eyes open,
It might be time to write a poem,
Not sure what to write about,
I could write about writing a poem or whatever,
Poetry,
Yeah, maybe now.

11:30pm
I’m done,
Here’s your fricken poem, Matthew,
Can I go to bed now?

heart torn in half
dream of future
reminisce on past
emotionally unsure

this isn't what Jesus meant
when he said a kingdom
divided cannot stand
but the truth still resounds

my heart skips when she smiles
or laughs or talks or breathes
but with equal strength I collapse
when the thought of the other calls

love was meant for one
two war for my mind
will the past return
or has the future won?

Even at this place I call home
I feel completely alone

The ones I love most
Know nothing of my troubles

I act like everything is alright
But the second someone comes near
I raise my walls
Prepared for a fight
Holding in every last tear

I can’t be myself
I can’t let them see

So I bury it all
Deeper and deeper
Within me

But hiding only brings more pain

When I say I miss you,
it's not just that I want to see you.
I spoke with you face to face tonight,
but I still miss you.

I miss you like 2am misses the sunlight,
like the warm beach misses snowflakes,
like a fish misses the hillside,
as a poet misses the words he couldn't find.

I want to write you down,
for each part of our lives to rhyme,
I want to be yours and you, mine,
but you're the poem trapped in my mind.

*~ Matthew Walker ~

The way she underlines
her favorite parts in this book
says more than words could.

She never draws straight,
but scribbles little lines
that connect the syllables
in the same way
she etches her little things
one by one, piece by piece
into something worth reading.

I want to highlight
each beautiful characteristic,
underline with sharpie
so her imprint is permanent,
write notes in the margin
to ensure I never forget.

*m.w.

I just experienced my very first,
Hospital hallway wall, sliding down
To the typical Hollywood sad and confused,
Teary eyed, half sitting, half standing position, moment.

I started to cry.
But then I told myself I could not cry.
I had to be strong.
And so I did everything in my ability to not
Think about what was going on in that hospital room.

But my mind acted in defiance
And did the exact opposite of what I requested.
I tried to stop my thinking
But my desire just acted as fuel
For the burning fire in my head.

While attempting to empty myself of thoughts,
I became filled.
The questions started flowing.
Once the flowing began, I was consumed
With an endless and raging sea of questionified emotion.

A simple yet convoluted question came first.
Why? Why is this happening?
More complex questions followed.
How will I go on if she dies?
Will life consist of me forcefully
Placing one foot in front of the other
And hopelessly trying to find a reason to continue?
Has the God we’ve always strived to follow abandoned us?
Is there a God at all?

It was as if my mind stuck his thumb out
And went for a ride all across the world.
I thought about the most random things
Though I viewed them through a grey-scaled lens.

Why is the sky blue?
Instead of seeing the beauty of blue,
The sky is blue because of sadness.
The sky is blue because I am blue.
And the clouds cry a storm because they’re broken.
And when the waves crash
It’s because they were a little bit too tipsy that night
And now their children are mourning.
Who thinks about these kinds of things?
I am going crazy.

And once again I cry.
I bawl.
The tears roll down my cheeks.
First it was just one slow drip
That got caught in my eyelash.
But of course it continued
Until there was a river of tears rushing down my face.

***** being masculine.
I’m going to cry.
Because crying is the only thing
I can do in this situation.
Ha! Crying just makes me want to cry.

Why?

If you want to love me,
don't just give me your words,
keep your empty promises,
I've had enough of those.

Trace your fingers along my skin
until you can tell my stories,
memorize the hidden scars
and know the depths of my heart.

Cut your fingertips on the cracked
mirrors inside my chest cavity
as they reflect my insecurities
and all my trembling mysteries.

Warm up beside the fires within me,
feed me timber when I begin to fade,
shield me on the dreadful rainy days,
fan my small sparks into flames.

Don't you dare tell me you love me
if you haven't yet wept for me,
felt the sting of my broken pieces,
or burned when I came alive.

*~Matthew Walker~

This is my first train ride
and I'm absolutely mesmerized.

You meet a special breed of people
living in uniquely passionate ways.
Saying I'm inspired by their kind
is standing in a blizzard naked and saying
"I'm cold."

The thrill they give me is more
powerful than words can capture,
though I'll try to do my best
like photography with distorted aperture.

I want to write vagabond on a name-tag
and slap it mercilessly on my chest
as a gorilla beats his pounding heart
like a drum before the last stand.

I ditched my seat and found an empty car
to escape the commotion and strum my guitar.
Slowly, people followed and joined me,
I felt like Moses dividing the sea.

I can hardly sing and barely play
but as they listened I felt as if
I was singing the sound of the rain,
washing away the mud in their smiles.

Six people are sleeping on the floor.
Beside me, their silent presence is igniting.
I want to dance in their zeal;
let it burn me, in hopes that the scars will never heal.

Maybe I'm over romanticizing this moment
but I can't squelch the raw audaciousness.
It's in their eyes, and in their laughs,
and in the way they form sentences.

It's burrowed itself into my heart.
In this moment, I feel so alive,
this passion cannot die, the traveler's immorality,
I have become the wanderer's infinity.

*m.w

This is not a poem
This is not a poem
This is not a poem

I decided to write
Because I wanted
To sound artsy

But then I just wrote
Words repeatedly

This is not poetry

Collapsed against the brick wall,
tears puddled on her knees,
devoid of comfort,
she was weeping alone.

This was never supposed to happen.

Heart fractured by a boy,
boss called to let her go,
the death of a loved one,
it could have been anything.

This isn't okay.

I've never known the girl,
never even seen her face;
but I still have to say,
her heart should never break.

This wasn't part of the plan.

Darling, you are more than this,
a greater love is here, I promise.
There will be an end to it;
the aching will cease to exist.

This is all going to be fixed.

Your Father adores you,
His shoulder will catch
your tears before they
have the chance to land.

This is finished.




*~ Matthew Walker ~

The mirror was cut,
Wrists were shattered,
This heart is sobbing,
These tears must be broken.

This town sits quiet,
As the destructions falls silent,
Where these stories were once spoken,

Stories that have long past
Still seem so real,
They’ll never stop happening,
Darkness will never let him be.

Everyone’s telling him what to do,
He doesn’t remember how to feel,
It’s all very fragile,
His thoughts are vast as the sea.

Flowing thoughts,
Crashing waves,
How will I ever escape,
Will I never be free?

They tell you no,
You’re trapped forever,
But I say no,
I say run away with me.

Let’s run,
Leave this place,
Leave these feelings,
I’ve got you and nothing else.

You’re wrong,
We have the world,
Right in the palm of our hand.

We don’t need the world,
All we need is us,
Say goodbye,
It’s time to leave this land.

Whispering farewell
To the memories
We’re leaving behind,
Good and bad times,
Old adventures,
Thinking of new ones
As we leave this reality.

Your lips, so bittersweet,
The last thing I’ll ever taste,
Kiss the world goodnight,
As I kiss you one last time.

I’m afraid of letting go,
But I know if I’m with you,
This dreamland won’t be so scary,
It’ll be just one last tree to climb,
As we stand at this height,
I contemplate our lives,
From when we were kids,
To today, on this bridge.

Let’s run,
Leave this place,
Leave these feelings,
I’ve got you and nothing else.

I talked to a cat the other day,
No, that’s not lingo for dude,
I literally talked to cat,
I asked this cat,
“Hey cat, why are you always laying around?”
And it said told me,
“Because human, sometimes you just have to relax,
Stop moving all the time and take a moment to breathe.”

I talked to a dog the other day,
I asked,
“Why is your tail always wagging?”
He said,
“Because I find happiness in the little things,
I’m joyful because I have food to eat,
And because someone loves me.”
“But sometimes your owner gets mad at you,
Why do you go back to him?”
He said,
“Life is too short, it isn’t worth hating,
Forgive and keep on smiling.”

I talked to a rat the other day,
I didn’t have to ask him much,
“What’s the point of living when you’re known as ****,
What’s the point when you’re just a rat?”
He told me,
“Man, life isn’t about what anyone else thinks,
It’s about choosing to be who you want to be,
Accept that fact and you’ll be free.”

I talked to a bird the other day,
I asked her,
“Why are you always singing?”
She told me,
“Because music brings me peace,
In times of pain, it rescues me.”

I talked to a man the other day,
I asked him,
“What’s the purpose of life?”
He stared blankly for a few moments.
And then, with his head down,
He uttered three simple words,
“I don’t know.”

Sometimes its alright to look to the simple creatures,
Instead of the almighty man, for a little bit of wisdom.

Of course,
None of this actually happened,
Because animals can’t speak.

Or can they?

If I was to say
I wasn’t hurting
I’d be a liar

If I were to say
I’m not confused
I’d be lying

But that’s okay
Because you’ll love me anyway

In the strongest storm
You find me
During the hardest times
You stay beside me

Even if I don’t feel your touch
I know you’re there
Because you’ll never leave

You always love
Forever and ever and ever
You will love.