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?

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

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

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?

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

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~

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'm happy.

That might not sound big
but I've been depressed
since I was a kid
like a broken record
on repeat.

My memories were
and old-school walkman
that can't stop skipping
too many bits and pieces
are missing.

But now music overflows
from my joyful soul
instead of crackling
inside my heart
like radio static.

*m.w.

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~

You’re everything God
All that I want

You’re everything God
All that I need

My father
Savior
King

You’re my everything

The notion that I will be
inherently depressed for the rest
of my personal eternity is
a stupid choice at best.

I can choose to be
morose when the sky is clear
and see sunshine in the clouds.
The depiction of the storm
is mine to envision.

At least carry an umbrella
when it's sure to pour
and take off your coat
as the flowers begin to blossom.

*m.w

You were lying on my arm,
And staring into my eyes,
Laughing from my stupid jokes,
Giggling while you were tickling me,
It was then, I knew I needed you,
I absolutely loved you,
I wish my dreams were true.

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?

Like the sea
So my heart
Has come to be

One moment
Calm and still
Soft blue breeze
Moments later
Raging
Crashing
Furious waves in a storm

My mind
My heart
My soul
Never knowing
Constant chaos
Always distant from the truth

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

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 ~

Hours,
Days,
Months,
They pass by,
And I am left alone.

I am alone,
Even in the largest crowd,
I am alone,
Because you aren’t by my side,
I am alone.

The tears fall,
The brokenness appears,
The pain rises,
Because you are not by my side.

I want to know you’re beside me,
I long to gaze into your eyes,
I need to feel your arms around me.

Day and night,
I dream of our past,
Of our present,
And of our future,
I dream of when we reunite,
Of when we’re finally together.

I love you,
Deeply,
Passionately,
Intimately,
I love you.

With all of my heart,
I love you.
With all of my mind,
I love you.
But mostly,
I love you,
With all of my soul.

When we are together,
I am complete.
When we are together,
I am whole.

It's been over seven months
And I don't miss you any less
You haven't left my thoughts once
And my dreams are still a mess

Two days ago, I wept for an hour
I cried out your name with each fallen tear
Last night I ran from sleep seven times like a coward
Stop haunting my dreams, I need you here

I'm starting to forget the way you formed words
The few syllables I still remember sound like art
It's as if you're silently begging to be heard
Your voice quit making me smile, it just shatters my heart

It's been two hundred and thirty days
And I still haven't gone a night without seeing your face

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.

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.

It rained yesterday.
I was out in the rain for a few hours.
I got soaked and freezing.

So right when I got home,
I ran upstairs,
And jumped in the shower.

At first,
I didn’t turn the water past warm.
But I was still cold.
So I turned the **** until it got hot.

I stood under the hot water for a while.
And then I stepped out of it
But instantly I felt a chill down my spine.
The air was cold.
So I leapt back under the water.
It was almost addicting
To stay under the water.

After I stood under the water for a bit,
It was like I got used to it.
My skin became numb to the warmth.

So once more,
I twisted the **** until it was hot.
This process repeated itself
Over and over and over again.

Eventually my skin turned bright red.
The red almost alarmed me.
But I was too addicted
To the heat to care.
I turned it up again.

It burned.
But it burned so good…

I turned it up to the maximum heat.
It felt like fire on my flesh.
I was consumed by the wet flame.
I rubbed my arm
And my skin peeled off.
My body was melting.
I became addicted to the heat
Even though it was killing me.

That’s how she makes me feel.

I have been abandoned
I have been struck down
I have been cast out
Thrown to the ground

Where are you father, when I call out?
Where are you Jesus, when I need you?
I need your love
I need your touch
Where are you father, when I call out?
Where are you Jesus, when I need you?

Where are you savior?
I need your hand
Guide me, father
I’m such a broken man
I need a savior
Come rescue me

Shades of color illuminating 4am
Glistening penetrates loneliness
Cracked blinds pierced in the night
Two hearts entangled with light


*m.w.

I've always wondered what love would be like.
There were a few times, I decided I'd try.
But each time, she showed she didn't love me,
She loved who she wanted me to be.
I just want a girl to love me for me.
I don't want to be put in her box
And made to be what she sees.
I want her to see me.
I wonder what it'll be like, *to be loved.

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

Laying
Beneath the stars
Gazing
At her perfect complexion
Wondering
Is this love?

I can't possibly be falling
I wouldn't fall for her
Not my best friend

But I am...

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. ~

You said you love me
You said you’re there
Times got rough
Then you disappeared

The voice faded
Your presence dissipated

Your love is no longer here

You said you’d never leave me
Nor forsake me
But here I stand
Without friend or foe
Completely alone

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.

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.