She slithered through my ribs,
Toungue out,
Looking for a heart.
I knew her intentions from the start.
To devour me is an ambitious task.
"Don't beat yourself up over it."
Is all I ask.
Because the games are fun.
My feelings have been numb
For years, but I can act better than Guy Pierce,
Our conversations were just a Memento-
Puzzles I could never get into.
Cold blood doesn't bother me,
Your cold touch is everything I knew it would be.
She coils, ready to strike,
And I laugh at the thought-
They are all alike.
That venemous kiss;
A generous bliss
Knowing I played my part well.
We're all snakes, but not everyone of us can tell.

The moon shines as a cross through my blinds,
And it is no longer poetic.
I fear nothing more shall ever be....
And I weep.
I weep
At 2:18 A.M.
In front of poets that don't give a **** about these words.
In front of a god who stopped caring long ago.
I weep not for myself,
But for the child who once saw poetry in every scene, regardless of how ugly or beautiful it was.
The moon light is a cross through my blinds,
And I could give a **** less.

I had a dream of a face or a place-
I can't quite remember.
You were there, or maybe....
Not.
It was an aluminum haze,
An emerald craze.
The days don't seem too real anymore,
But honestly,
They never did.
I had a dream
The first in.... I can't remember.
It was warm, soothing;
Everywhere, but never moving.
But now I soar to lands dripping with diamonds
And the dream,
The dream gets farther and farther
Out of reach.

I stand here extant by some accident I'm sure.
There's nothing but a low drone now;
The whirling of machines and things.
And faces force their words down my throat-
Meaningless words.
Meaningless people
And their meaningless accords.
I'm in a slump of sorts:
Everything I touch
Feels the same.
Everything I eat and drink
Tastes the same.
Everything I think
Leads to the same outcomes.
I am an outcast.
How long does this drought last?

Short, choppy
Sentences.
Doesn't have to make sense.
Type before the day ends.
Drink until my brain spins.
I've been on a pain binge.
Passed out on a park bench
Woke up with my jaw clenched.
I misplaced my heart-wrench
I can't fix my dark tints.
I'm begging your pardon,
I know nothing for certain;
Except, this doesn't make sense.
It never made sense.

This person sitting next to you tells you their life story- you listen so as to not be rude.
They go on about their plans
For the future; every one has plans.
And you scream, "It's all so redundant!"
You go on to say "what we want can never be achieved in this mortal form."
Try explaining a rocketship to a sloth.
Your dreams are too big to even make sense
So everyone thinks your crazy,
But they are insane.
"We're already dead, can't you see?" You tell them.
"Our dying breath lasts over 50 years.
Exploring our cell doesn't mean we are free. Don't you want to be more than a tax attorney?"
You plead, hoping somebody can offer some sense- anything, a nod of acceptance. All you're met with is silence and bewildered eyes.
You break down and cry at this feeling of lonliness.

But really
You say nothing.
You just sit there
Listening so as to not seem rude.

This wounded cat comes around every so often.
You couldn't tell by looking at her, but she's been through more than is necessary-
The price you have to pay for living in the streets.
And she wants only enough life to keep on living.
She pulls out all the tricks: brushing against my legs, looking at me with her glossy eyes, purring gently.
So I feed her-
It takes nothing away from me.
And she leaves;
I get the feeling she thinks she's taking me for a ride,
But honestly the show she puts on pays for itself;
I only need enough life to keep on living.

The sweetest victory
Is the one you don't see coming
The saddest loss
Is the one you don't see coming

People spend their time
Trying to predict
The future
Then wonder why
The outcome seems bitter

I'm giving a reading.
The crowd looks up at me with stars for eyes.
And it sounds beautiful and poetic, 'til you realize that means there is nothing ahead but the void of space.
I'm just floating- hapless, helpless
Through existence.
Every now and then I get pulled a certain direction, but I never enter orbit.
I'm reading to the stars.
The isolation doesn't alarm me like it used to.
I'm either more resilient, jaded, or dead- I can't really tell.
I finish my reading and I'm met with silence. I am lost. I never belonged. I'm too soft for killers and addicts and lawyers and politicians.
I'm too hard for priests and schoolteachers and poets.
I float on through the stars,
Looking for signs of life.

I've been floating for some time now....

I am a hideous thing stumbling through a field of sunflowers.
They reach high high toward the sky
I hang my head low low to avoid the glare in my eyes. It took me too long to realize; I belong nowhere, and so, I am at home in the shade amongst the nightcrawlers and vampires. The breeze hits my knees, my soul tires of walking through the hulking weeds. The sun sets, and their heads droop. It's finally time to move.

The moon shines
Through my blinds.
Insomnia creeps up from behind,
"Where do you think you're going?"

I was a fool to think I could run-
For thinking I could change my outcome by being numb.
To darkness, I succumb.
I've forgotten faces, emotions, memories;
What keeps me up?
Why am I up?

We all pay penalties
For living,
But why must we find reasons to live?


.......its 2:22 A.M.
And dreams
Are dying
Under the skyline
And sounds of dogs barking.

At least I'm not the only one up

It's all gone.
The dying wisp that is my soul
Has moved on.
I am a husk,
Waiting now only
For dusk.
Take a drink
Only if I must.
**** myself
Because it is just.
The good ones leave
Without a word-
Victims to a toxic world.
The good ones leave
And we don't get the message.
Evil stays; forever restless.
And I'm here.
I'm here.
Wondering where
My ticket is.

I self-deprecate
To self-medicate
Because I'm afraid
That if I'm too great
The world will take
What little innocence
I have left.

So no, I'm not worth your time, or your effort. Let me sulk in this corner, picking through scraps of the dumpster that is my heart. And maybe I won't find diamonds or gold or riches, but maybe I can recover my art.

Floating through space,
An endless eternity.
A forgotten face,
Do you even remember me?
Cold and alone, but not scared.
I was born
To choke on air.
Reality is just a word devised
To constrain the mind.
I exist, not here,
Outside of time.
Wake up!
Wake up!
I tell myself.
Wake up!
Wake up!
There must be something else.....

To walk through the fire unscathed
Is not ideal
For it means you are too used to the burn-
And no one likes their steak well-done

Nothing going on

Here.....

Oh, oh,
I've been runnin from
You.
Runnin From
Your love.
Trying to keep my head above
Your flooded heart.
I've been picked apart
By scholars and scientists.
None of them know how I exist-
How I survive,
But I'm still alive
Runnin
From you.

I feel
Powerless
In a world that
Acknowledges
Only power.
Do I even exist?
My voicemail has too many
Unread messages.
I live in the vestiges
Of broken hearts.
I bear resemblances
To tragic arts.
I walk through
A world of slaughter-
Finding words to ease the pain
Is getting harder.
Words now,
Only spew.
Words with meaning,
Are few.
A New World,
But nothing is new
Say a word long enough
And it doesn't make sense.
Do a thing long enough and.......


Powerless
Powerless
Powerless
Powerless
Powerless
Powerless
Powerless
Powe­rless
Powerlesspowerlesspowerlesspowerlesspowerless.

My thoughts coalesce into something they shouldn't be.
Thinking of becoming someone that isn't me.
My family has such a beautiful tree.
Hang myself
As a beautiful leaf.
All we ever looked for was some sort of relief.
All we ever wanted was some sort of belief.
But how could we believe in you all,
When you
Lie instead of talking tall?
How do we believe in ourselves,
When all we know is how to fail?

Oh, cotton candy is falling from the sky.
Pink clouds on fire-
Pink matter.
This world is cold,
I can't stand her.
The heart is tattered.
We never really mattered.

You've been gone too long now.
The tree splits the skies
Rooms filled with dyes
Of pink.
What are we left to think
Or feel
Except..... powerless.

Catch me

Catch me

I'm falling d
                    o
                     w
                       n

Don't know what life means
When you're not around.

I reach toward the heavens.
I want to tell you that you're everything, but
I can't finish this __.

Oh, what is life
When you're not around?
Don't know much,
Except, I'm falling down.

Catch me
Catch me
My wings are broken.
I don't expect anything,
But I was hopin'
That you could lend a hand.

I've been falling for sometime;
I just wanna land.

Where is
The escape
From the shackle
That is the body?
There's a whole universe
We'll never experience
Because we're trapped in time
And physics
And scientific laws.
I want to create
Matter
From thin air.
I want to feel
Star explosions.
I want to inhale quasars.
I am not god,
But I am not man either.
A Career, money, taxes, security;
These are the least of my worries.
Each year spent in incarceration,
The soul dies....
How am I supposed to see value in this world
If I have cosmic eyes?

I'm watch the news talk about school shootings on the rise. Middle class families crying that their children shouldn't have to worry about gun violence- a novel idea. I'm not trying to say the events aren't tragic, because they are, but I think back on a time time- I was eight or nine- and I was at the corner store buying chips and a soda after scrounging all day for money. I had the bag in my hand and I was opening the fridge when shots rang out- they always sound like firecrackers- and I ducked and waited. When all was said and done I payed and left. As I walked out, I saw the bullet holes perforating the store wall. "Our kids are supposed to be safe." They say. How is it I learned that is not the case long before most? sigh I don't mean to come off as insensitive, but I guess I can't help it?
Idk....

Forced happiness everywhere
In advertisements, and Facebook shares.
"You won't believe what 'so and so' did."
But I can.
Meanwhile, ducks drown in ponds-
Diving, quacking
As the people look on
Marvelling, laughing.
A baby dies the world cries- for a moment- until you scroll down your timeline and post another comment. Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse, life proves me wrong, of course.
We have failed. We have failed.
And all the poetry in the world hasn't made a difference.
All the stories ever told, bear false witness to a god that doesn't exist;
A god that let it get like this....
And still,
I blame myself

You are a source of smiles in my life of bleakness.
My one desire, my only weakness.
To call it love would be cliché,
But you are the one; my saving grace.
That's how I feel, though I don't always show it.
That's how I feel about you, and you should always know it.

There is no escapin'
The vulture or the raven.
There is no dulcet tone
To dull the ringing in your craven ears, too afraid to hear, "I'm done."
The poor soul knows the misfortune of gold; the gold soul sees poverty as a misfortune.... somebody has to lose. And this desert, bigger than the Gobi, is the one and only locale one can walk infinitely to their doom-
Room enough only for the sun, the moon, and the vultures circling on high.
There is no chance....
Why even try?

Tears roll down and sear my face. You would think I'd finally get used to this place- this world of perfect imperfection. How many lessons is one to learn? How many times must one burn under a sun indifferent to our existence? I want to scream in people's faces, "SNAP OUT OF IT!" But they wouldn't listen. What use is this toungue if I cannot speak? What use are these lungs if I cannot breathe easy? I have an anxious disposition and the universe laughing in derision at me doesn't help any.

The birds
With their iridescent plumage
Have lost their color due to age,
Or cynical ways-
But they fly
Fly into endless skies
And I'm here
With my pretty thorns
In a world adust with scorn,
Wondering what it's like
To be free

This thing, like a paintbrush on my fingertips, seeks solace in my bed. It purrs at the slightest touch-
I never could quite wrap my head around how we find comfort from inhuman sources. But here we are at 4 AM, as my best thoughts slip away into the forgotten night. It yawns and stretches next to me; I may as well fall asleep while I still can.

What is humanity? Some languid thing floating through infinity.
Throwing confetti when Eagles fly.
Celebrate, celebrate before you die.
How is it no one sees the futility but me? Whoever reads this, know I am in dire straits. Humanity is lost on me, I share no human traits with you. Life is a misty dream undulating unto empty space.... I don't know my meaning, but I know my place.

I know you're looking for me to write something, but all is said and done. There's nothing left to say, and nothing left to return from.

In my head is a universe that no one knows. A love that can't be shown with acts or words. I'm burning on stars
"Solo....
Inhale, in hell there's heaven."
'Beware the leaven of the Pharisees and Sadducees.'
I swim in pools of endless seas
That no one sees.
Any advice is bad advice to me,
And so I fly
"Solo"
Amongst the cumulus;
In God I trust,
But he won't save all of us.
"Inhale, in hell there's heaven."
Don't know where I'm headed.
The world is upside down-
My boots are leaded
I can't fall up...
I **** it all up.
I'm so low
And I don't know where I'm headin'
Life is on borrowed credit
I want to bash my head in-
No one seems to know why
Because I roll solo,
You can't know....
"It's hell on Earth and the city's on fire.
Inhale, in hell there's heaven."

I feel ***** when I go out in public.
Like a mangy dog everyone tries to avoid.
I don't want to cause problems, but people treat me so.
I stay to myself, someone walks up and asks what's my deal.
"I have none." I say.
They walk away, hate brooding in their eyes.
What gods have I angered to deserve such a fate.
My head hangs low as I look for scraps, to be left alone, that would be a blessing.
On a side note, writing seems to be losing its magic. Things I could not bear seem to be piling on. My escape is gone, and I fear I'm being backed into a corner, and eventually I'm going to have to fight back, only to reinforce people's image of me.

Claire ,the soiled, is a clairvoyant. Clears the air of torment, all she sees is past this moment.
She can feel the apathy and ensuing sorrow, consequence of living in tomorrow.
I hope that she can find peace of mind, so I let her borrow a piece of mine.
The offering is slim,
I could never be them, or him.
It seems, for all the dreams we have, the future is never had.
Claire the clairvoyant questions the clarion call of clarity.
I'm losing touch with her, as she's losing touch with me.
I can't see past the present.
Past and present: that's when I learn my lessons.
Past and present: these are my future confessions.
I outlast my presence, but somehow lessen my essence.
I don't know what the end is.
Where is the ending?
I'm lost in a never ending state of ignorant conjecture.
I need Claire, but she's past this, somewhere in the future, and time travel has always been confusing to me.

I want to find a way
To be pretty
For the USA.
I am more than my eye color.
More than my skin tone.
Underneath the mask I wear
Is a being that looked upon the world
And thought,
"This is not enough."
The soul knows better, but the flesh is used to the rough conditions we are kept in. Trapped in our skin. Trapped in our looks. Trapped in our insecurities. The judging eyes of others are hooks reeling me in towards their predispositions and maligned visions.
No one seems to see,
I am not the me they think I am.
I'm more than anyone could've ever imagined.