I could like you forever
Or love you
Every now and then.
Emotions
I haven't much use for them.
The ghost memories of a once heart
Guide my hand
Across this surface-
And I feel,
I feel

Betrayed

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.....

Don't force your thoughts onto my words.
Don't know if you're not sure.
What I mean and what I say
Are not the same-

A tragedy
I know...

Spend too much time in my mind
Still not getting ahead
Lately I've been feeling the urge to cry
Not really knowing why
Maybe it's a well of emotions
I thought had run dry
Don't understand it but I try try try
Tyrannically
I'll make you love me
My words don't taste like they used to
Bittersweet
The day my dreams and memories meet
Maybe I'll find
Meaning in the secrets I so carefully keep

Suffer with me
Just a bit longer.
Starless nights
In the city-
Watching, waiting
For a glimmer of peace.
Shooting stars
Zoom too fast for us
to make a wish, but truthfully,
I don't think either of us would know what to wish for.
Stare at me just a bit longer.
Dimmed eyes
Spiral out of control.
"I ain't a kid no more,
We'll never be those kids again."
Said we'd never hurt each other and meant it. Guess we didn't know how hard a promise is to keep. And we sing our emotions cuz we're tired of screaming and not being heard.
Overdose on lullabies
The starless nights
Seem to go on
But the songs,
The songs are lovely.

The world is ending
According to people who've never known struggle.
People who've never had to drink rain water out of a puddle
Those who never had to muffle their breathing while hiding under floor boards
As murderers muddle their nature to execute evil accords.
The most protected demographic
Becomes befuddled at the thought
"Safety isn't promised

I've been lauded as
"Pretty decent"
I've been celebrated
As "A Cool Guy"
I can chop mountains
In half with my fist.
A voodoo child,
I have never missed
My mark.
My story arc
Has only begun.
The highest peaks
Are only distractions
I want more than
This earth can give.
More
More
More

Where does a poet go
When his troubled soul
Is now fixed?
What happens when you move on, but can't let go of this
Writing thing?
Were these words my weakness or my strength?
They were all I had when there was nobody to confide in,
No one to listen.

Is there a support group for tears that once ran sad but now flow with joy?
For I am a man now, but deep inside is that lost little boy gasping for breath. Is letting him rest rebirth of death?
These words who were once a big part of me- I can't tell if they were my armor or vulnerability.

Where does a poet go when he's lost his words,
But gained a soul?

Another day.
Things are OK.
I'm still waiting
For my moment-
Any moment.
The fire
Has dimmed.
Smoke billows
Toward the sky.
I breathe,
But I'm barely even alive.
What's the point of fighting?

The world is invisible.
My brain can't comprehend what we're doing here.
"Fight you idiot!" That's what the voice inside my head yells.
Poe asks, "Can you no longer hear the bells?"
I can't....
It's all a low buzz now:
Cars honking for me to go,
The songs on the radio.

I am mist
Dissipating in the wind,
But it is OK
It's just another day.

What we
Are,
We shall never
Be.
We are programmed
For the stars-
Programed to the
Sea.

Desperation
Settles on my skin
Like grease
Or oil.
Wash away all you like,
But it's hard to get under
The fingernails.
Words were a gale
Rushing
Lifting me up
But desperation
Keeps weighing me down.
I want diamonds in my heart
Eagles in my eyes
Pearls in my smile
But I am not that guy.
Hatred has wrapped it's claws
'Round my neck
And I kind of like it.
Wash it away
Wash it away,
Can't get under the fingernails
What the **** is even the point

It's disheartening to see sparks that once caught your eye slowly flicker away and die. I think on how long I carried the flame. Has it been long?
How many people have looked into my eyes and saw the fire waning? Now the smoking ashes of a once memory flutter in the wind like butterflies in migration. Where do they go? I don't know nor do I care anymore...

What temperance
Hath peace
In me
Started?
The nights
Swoon,
Dreams alight
Upon my mind
No longer.
Endless faith
In hopeless deeds-
Growing pains
From defective seeds.
What I am and what I came to be
Never coincided peacefully
I was supposed to set the world on fire,
Instead I water the seeds of my own discord
That something good may come of it

escape has become my cell
The Thin veil of freedom
Wraps tightly around my skin
Choke me with your silence
See me with no eyes
Death is a better alternative
You there, reader, are a fool
For sticking around so long
Look around there is nothing here:
3 walls and a cell door, a flimsy mattress atop a metal frame bolted to the wall, and a toilet.
In here I am all and nothing
Escape is overrated

Not sure
                   When it happened.
When I lost passion.
Maybe,
                 Like all things,
It fades with time.

The process of moving a pen
Across a page doesn't feel the same.
Words don't carry weight,
But still they pull me down
As I drown in a pool of non-existence.
And I say "non-existence" because if you exist in a state other than your full potential, does it even really count?

All the failures of past generations and their endless frustrations; can you not feel them mount?

All the questions I can't ask out loud
So I write them down,
But what do I do when anxieties abound
And the smell of fresh ink doesn't sedate me like it used to?

When life gets too much
And you need to escape the clutch
Of reality, where does one recuse to?

Gentle words
                          Move me
Amongst
              Fellow Gentiles
Who weren't promised
                A thing.

What's psalms do I sing

               Now?

Eyes:
The glimmer has dulled.
In the winter
We curled together
Hopeful that summer would melt our frozen hearts.
Cryogenics never quite took off; forever is nothing to scoff at. How are we to spend eternity when this quarter century has already lasted too long? We listen to the same songs on repeat- we know the words but forgotten how to tap our feet. Asymptotic lives forced to come close but never meet. Summer is here. Our hearts were never really frozen, that's just what they told us. And to come together is to burn alive- Salem witch trials- mediocre minds know extraordinary vileness. Nights I wake up drenched in sweat wondering what could have been. I play our songs half hoping to be frozen in memory. I reach and reach, but touch only air. Heavy, humid air. Always choking on ghostly emotions. Rain clouds come round but nothing falls. Existential drought. Bodies fall,
Silent
Under the sun.
The unaffected
Play on the beach
And have fun.

Poetry is a dull flame to a dark ignorance.
I sing and you dance.
Don't ask what the words mean-
They are a screeching silence
Echoing the musings of a breathless life.
Something you don't understand, but resonates within you regardless.
You sing, by chance I may sway with the beat. I won't dance for my poetry is incomplete. And I can analyze the purity of your eyes, but there is no fun in dispelling lies.
My heart is wonderous art that bears no meaning except to whomever created it.
Nonsensical
Yet relatable-
A sharp darkness
To a blinding flash

I have California dreams,
But also
Texas sensibilities.

It's ok to hurt sometimes.
Happy people run from their pain, then break like waves on a Cliffside-
I don't break.
I hurt, sometimes.
That is all.
The sun can't always shine, nor darkness last. It is the ever changing tide of life, it is rising to my feet, and it doesn't hurt, it doesn't always hurt most times.

The longer I live
The less I feel I should.
This is not my space.
I drink
To run.
Wish I could run
Away.
I run in place.
My thoughts like spider eggs
Thrive in the darkness-
My heart like sunflowers
Craves the light.
How does one stop this
Asymmetry
Without a violent fight?

The longer I look
The harder it gets to see
Any meaning.
The longer I write
The less it works
To dull my bleeding.

Does anyone have a fix?

I don't like spoken word
Find it absurd.
Don't like coming up with phrases that coerce you to listen.
Don't like to force attention.
It should be natural,
Like tornados uprooting trees.
And this is not me standing preaching poetry: love, beauty, nature, loss.
It's me ******* that we accept the ends but not the cost.

I stare at this drink we so ravenously imbibe
-take a sip-
In its reflection I can see myself alive.
I've just the right amount of pride.
No fear, no need to hide.

Now and only now
If you were to take my hand for a moment
I could lead you to a land
Where we won't belong,
But in time we would own it.

How does one muster the courage
To continue on
When dying
Is the natural thing to do?

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.

My past creations are revelations
Of the beauty I once possessed.
My mind deserves its rest.
My best
Is distant memory
That I can reflect on
Happily.

I suffer
The circular trepidation
Of waiting
For joy

Your eyes
Could melt
This pewter world,
And give
Power to
The powerless.
But the toungue
Learnt silence.
Statues remain
Intact.
Reality is no place
For dreaming.
Money trees grow
Their sickly, green leaves
As souls cascade
Into foreign soils.
You could've
Melted the world
With your song and dance,
But the rhythm
Has been broken.
The clocks are off key.
Some one
Should've done something.
Why are you looking at me?

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.

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.

Our  skin is
                   Bats
blindly
        fluttering in the night.

The melancholy
Settling
          on our bones
Is an old man
Spending
                    $100
At a ******'s
In exchange for
Some pretty girl's
                                 attention.

Our heroes
              are Silver plated
But
               Cast in clay.

What is there

Left
          To say?
Life has conned us all

            As dried leaves
Scorched

                    Under sun rays
Fall

Without dancing in the wind.

We were meant to
  
               Glide up
In the sky,

While stars look upon us
    
                           And cry.

You say you're ready to end it all, things are too much to handle
Meanwhile I sit in a bathtub full of water blade to my skin.
I know you want something, some show of emotion-
Anything for God's sake!
How hard could it be?
But I am not strong, though I feign it.
I don't know a thing, though I claim it.
You search for an impetus to stay.
All I can clearly say is, "There is none."
Its devastating, that much I know.
But what am I to do when all I've been through has extinguished the light I once possessed? Somehow light shines through my words, sometimes
But it's just muscle memory at this point.
What can anyone do for you?

What can anybody do for any of us.....

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.

Writing.
Fighting
Demons that should've
Let me rot years ago.
I take my breaths;
Inhale deep and slow.
I consume the world around me,
But never grow-
Stultified caterpillar
With nowhere to go.
I know
There is more to this.
Whatever this is.
But until
My eyes are allowed
See salvation;
You can find me here.