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what do you want to say
when someone asks
"what do you do?"

do you want to impress the elite?
define it, perhaps?
did you want to impress yourself?
your father? mother?
"do what makes you happy," they said.
"follow your  heart, follow your dreams," they begged.

make a living,
or earn it?
live a vocation -
or is that dreaming?

how many will you ****?
how many will you love?
how many friends turn into rivals?
how many are lost on the way there?
anywhere.

will blood hate you?
or hunt you for treasure?
does X mark the spot,
or does it mark thy death?

what do you want to say
when someone asks,
"what do you do?"
 Apr 2013 Michael Gillen
Akemi
All your beautiful creations
Rot underneath the heel
Of bated breath, once warm, gone cold
Which witnessed writhing death

It reached its slender fingers in
And plucked out every heart-string
Till all the air reverberated
With hopeless dreams and dead-end letters

Cropped tongue and sentence
Amongst the wreck
Of a thought that came off
The railway tracks

Left seething, restless, a blackened stone
Where tender beat met the sixth rib bone
To weigh a heavy anchor, from the clouds
Leaving nothing,
But doubt
11:00pm, April 18th 2013

Expectations are easily made false.
It's not easy to love me
I know
I never really belonged here
I know

I thought I was safe here
It's true
I was sure of my home here
It's true

You don't know me at all
Not really
You'll never wish you did
Not really

Maybe that's why I'm dead
It's certain
Maybe you just don't know
It's certain

Just don't pretend you care
I'm fine
All I ever did was lie
I'm fine
Why am I angry, why am I depressed
Why am I like this, why am I such a mess
The ones that care I know they're always there
Yet every time I go home, I feel like I'm alone
I don't understand what is happening
I dont even know I just don't want to sit here and feel the sting
I wanna leave so badly, the voices tell me to
But no one else can hear them, not even you
You don't understand and probably never will
But if I'd never found you I'd would have been killed
I want you to hold me, I'm asking you please
Just make the voices silent so maybe I can sprint
I'll sprint to freedom, I'll sprint to happiness
I'll never stop running til I finally get to you
So hold me now close, and tell me to shh and never let go even when I push
I want to say sorry for being such a pain
But I know you, you'll stop me and tell me I'm insane.
The unsaid is silence.
The unsaid makes everything so tense.
The unsaid shows that I’m just dense
In the head with no consequence,
Except for being held inside the fence
Of the unsaid, and its silence.

The unsaid lingers overhead.
The unsaid comes back alone instead.
The unsaid makes my eyes turn red
When I can’t seem to find comfort in my own bed
Because the unsaid kills all that is sacred.

The unsaid is regret.
The unsaid is falling with no net.
The unsaid is pain met
With endless time endlessly wet
From the tears over the unsaid and the regret.

The unsaid is me.
The unsaid is her, not we.
The unsaid is not meant to be.
 Apr 2013 Michael Gillen
Redshift
oh,
dead
sleeping
snoring
college student,
i have the strangest
affection
for you.
drooling
wheezing
beauty
you lie on your desk
like a spilled milkshake in a parking lot
occasionally mumbling
things about
classes
and rap lyrics
finally,
a man who understands
my ideals.
I was
So sure
Id meet me
On the tracks
With bags of cash
And some clothes
In hand
But the fire
I had built
Went cold
As my
Second thoughts
Grew old
To the
Truth
Setting
In, but
Apart
from
Me
Where
I rightfully
Left me there
And made off
With my share
Of the loot
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