Someone has restricted my wrists
Trapping me with iron chains and roughened ropes
Chafing a sour burn on me when I struggle
Trickling a harsh burn on my membrane
Intensified by the comprehension that I’ll never feel her touch again

Someone has shoved a *** of socks down my throat
Trickling the ever sour bile taste down my esophagus
Tarnishing my tastes permanently with the substance
Choking my breathing tubes with a surfacing lodge of *****
Worsened by the reality that I’ll never taste her lips on mine again

Someone has leaked chloroform inside the room
Smelling its’ vague yet distinctively sweet scent
Expanding in my nostrils the substance is
Rising to suffocate me with its scent
Knowing I’ll die with this scent in my senses instead of her’s

Someone has planted a speaker within these walls
Echoing replays of her voice in my mind
Rerunning the sound of her hysterics
Driving nails into my eardrums
Lodging the knowledge that I’ll never hear her laughter again

Someone has placed
Disorientation in front of me
Swirling confusion and vague pain
Swindling my common sense down to nothing
Masking the sharp feeling that she always gave me

Pond water life
So dark; so dim
With muddy rings
Of exhaustion

Glossed over blues
Hardly ripple
With signs of life
Or emotion

Dipping inside
The sluggish pool
Her body; now ****
Stirs the surface

Reawakens

I try to grasp

That beautiful girl’s hand

Before she flies away


Inspiration!


I cry out loudly

The warmth in mind

Already starting to fade


Gone?

She used to wear a ring
And whenever I’d lean down
To press my lips to the metal
She’d giggle; wooed by my suave

Somehow it’s just not the same
To kiss the cold metal that
Once adorned a warm, gentle hand
I miss her laughter

How long am I going to spend?

Pressed against the wall breathlessly
Waiting for my Prince Charming

Before I manage to plow through

This thick headed ignorance and
Realize that I was never the princess

Somewhere a beautiful girl is waiting for me

To come parading in on a stallion
And sweep her off her feet

How strange it has been

To crave the touch of
Rougher souls; these different grips

I am so used to

A desire for the female
Touch, taste, mind and body

Experiencing a male and all
His quirks and customs is

Interesting

They used to have a routine
The two of them
Every day at ten past one PM
They’d sit in the fourth row
Of the classroom
Side by side
She’d listen attentively
To the teacher’s lecture
And he’d wander through his
Thoughts; listening to his mind
His massive arm would drape
Over her petite frame
Her dark corkscrewed hair would surge
Till it lay atop his free hand; a color contrast
But the routine changed
As did some feelings
Everyday at ten past one PM
She’d sit in the fourth row
Of the classroom
All alone
She’d listen attentively
To the teacher’s lecture
I would slowly work up the nerve
To slide into the lone seat beside her
Her dark corkscrewed hair surged
Till it whipped around as she could see
That is was me
That I was not him
…
She smiled

You know how when you walk down the street
You can hear the whispers about everyone else on that street

That the frail, sallow faced homeless man with the rattling tin can
That man whose moaning and screeching weakly to himself can only mean bad things

Ought be locked away; shoved into a loony bin
Ought to be rattling his skull against a padded wall instead of a can

Well they all say he must have lost his marbles somehow
Well they must have fallen from his ears like gumballs from a metal chute

As if sanity is just a series of tiny glass ***** that you could lose beneath your bed
As if the memories and morality of some demented women are just collecting dust somewhere

But I doubt that sanity should be perceived in that fashion
But I doubt that our mental stability isn’t more like one massive marble

All thick and glassy but crusted in spatters of glitter
All shiny and glimmering with the memories of some tortured soul

Rocking back and forth against their skulls and chipping away their ability to cope
Rocking back and forth the way they do in the fetal position; alone in their bedrooms

Breaking off tinsel-y bits of their childhood, their personality, their purpose
Breaking off a kaleidoscope chunk of their minds

Perhaps we don't ‘lose’ our marbles at all
Perhaps they just crumble away

Regard
Gaze and contemplate
My milk skin

Ashen
Disrupted only
By my scars

Others
They gawk and ogle
Yours on mine

Ebon
Smooth and oh so dark
When near white

Color?
I’d go blind before
Seeing love

As black and white

I immerse a lilting fingertip into the
Milky icing of
My birthday cake
Intending to celebrate
Another year of life

But I am not struck by the
Pride of aging but instead by the
Shame of a compulsion
The flame on the candles brings

And licking the icing off my skin
I replace the icing with
The searing heat of
The candle stick

Wincing not only at the feel
Of my skin charring in the heat
But also at the sick
Guilty pleasure
I receive from the action

This isn’t what
Age
Is supposed to bring

Pride
At watching my maturity change
Pleasure
At new, refreshing experiences
Love
Of the expanding number of memories I held
That is what I thought
Age would bring


But no
Instead it carries with it
Shame
At the growing cravings for pain
Guilt
For the hidden experiences in darkness
Hate
For the inability to stop the thirst

Dipping your fingertip through the
Milky cream of cake icing
And dabbing it on a lover’s nose?

No
It is more along the lines of

Dipping your fingertip through the
Searing flame of the cake’s candles
And dabbing ointment on the shameful burns

You gain as many friends as your age represents
But these friends are
Shame
Embarrassment
Neglect
And every other negative thing
You never thought age would bring

I am a sheep wrought with steel wool that’s coarse and painful to the touch
It erupts anything that touches me into a throng of agitated skin disease
So I habitually avoid anyone and anything that nears me with my terrified animalistic eyes
For fear of watching some curious creature bleed because of me and my dangerous idiocy
However as a sheep with sheep tendencies I can’t help but follow after the herd of my family
From a distance; trotting over trodden grass that’s easier on my hooved feet
Than other paths that are less traveled, more dangerous and more interesting
Instead staring at my family’s tail ends with an envy too poignant for my age
As they baa and cackle and coo over their own amusements and mutual understandings
And I find myself wishing woefully that I wasn’t just a sheep with steel wool
But a ferocious wolf, independent and beautiful; merely hiding within an ugly costume

Shush

It’s not a blade
On your skin amore
It’s God whispering comfort

Blood or tears trickling?
That’s just God’s tears
Giving you a blessing

They are rather rare
So please be quiet
Shut your eyes awhile

As I fix you

They had an affair
A summer romp
In the sticky warm nights

Secrets, some deep
And some random
Were whispered to the other

“I hate my body”
“My favorite color is pink”
Oh; the variety

Imagine one’s surprise
When the other turned up
Months after their fling

With twenty pounds lost
And her hair dyed
Cotton candy pink

They say that there’s a silver lining
In every blackened cloud
But when will that lining come?
This rain’s taking its’ toll
I think I need that perfect sky
Because this rain’s taking its’ toll
I’m not sure how much longer I can
Stand so wet, drenched and cold
I’m starting to crumble under the
Pressure of these rain drops
I need some pretty sunset or
A silver lining right now

He and I
Are like lions
Magnificent golden fur
Clumsy oversized paws
Content to lounge
Warm grass blades
Or stalk prey
Under the stars
And the moon
Beneath feline pride
Is a ferocity
To keep us
Both forever safe

I’m not much like him

You’ll find that if

You’re a lover of
Rough romance that bruises the skin
And arrogance

I won’t be able to satisfy you

But if perhaps you

Could consider a gentler love
A warm caress that will
Buzz and whisper on your skin

I could suit your needs

A chance?

It is rather easy
To let negativity
Bog you down

But you realize
That it really
Isn’t an issue

When it’s solved
By something simple
And Neanderthal style

Like your rather
Prudish girlfriend finally
Giving into your

Never fulfilled but
Longtime secret fantasy
Locker room ***

Life is split by our only purities
Black and white; hate and love

But which were you?

You started out as gray; so I screamed and smeared you black
It was easier to darken something than make it lighter

But which were you?

Perhaps you were pale enough for me to have lied
I could have just blurred my eyes and made you white

But which were you?

You made my world rotten; gray
Some parts dried white and others soaked in black

But which were you?

You’ve been gray since forever
And you’ve grayed my senses

I cannot read one man’s thoughts
While I can hear another’s
In the background

Because my mind
Can only grasp one human’s
Truest intentions and dreams at once

Any more leads to
Poor comprehension
And just one in itself is a blessing

I think I’m going to
Slow down for awhile
I need to embrace that
I may be mentally mature
But I’m still just a kid
A kid with an unbelievably and
Obnoxiously mature mindset
But a kid nonetheless

So I think I’m going to
Slow down for awhile
God knows that I really
Don’t need to be worrying
About the dramatics
Of the adult lifestyle
And I need to enjoy that fact
While it’s still true

Why is everyone
So
Loud

The vocal chaos
And
Endlessly agitating noise

Could
Cease
Easily

Walk with a
Gentler
Step

Throw away those
Hectic machines
Of blaring mayhem

Perhaps if you
Did
Our thoughts would quiet too

For a softer
Quieter
Peaceful world

Tap tap tap

The sound of nails
Rhythmically striking wood

Tap tap tap

To the quickened beat
Of nervous and fluttery heart

Tap tap tap

As you’re completely at the mercy of
Those uncontrollable urges and worries

Tap tap tap

As you wait; ever infatuated
For the girl that makes you squirm

Just stop breathing God ******
Stop breathing right now
Understand?

I cannot stand the rise and fall
So slow and steady and alive
It moves me along
Simulates something that I
Do not want to be

Understand?

Do you know the feeling of looking into a window
And seeing something warm and happy
While you stand in the cold and dreary rain?

Wishing and wanting to be able to
Cut, copy or photo shop
Yourself into the scene?

But you can’t because
You don’t belong there
You’d just look unnatural in the picture

Your face would look ugly among all those
Pretty faces and happy souls
So completely unlike your own

Perhaps if you’re struck by a moment of luck
Someone on the other side will come to the window
And curiously touch their fingers to the glass

They’ll just be wondering if you’re worth it
Seeking out to find your hand’s heat
To see if you might be able to fit in the picture

But you’ll just scare them away in the process
The cold storm you’re followed by
Is far too fearsome for someone so soft

They’ll just leave you again you know
For their own warm memories
To forget you in the dreary storm you’re followed by

The longer you linger by the window of someone else’s memories
The less likely it is that you’ll find a pane or two your own happiness
And the more surprising it’d be that you ever escape your own storm

She makes me feel
Like my bones are filled with air
As if I’m breathing helium

I’m drifting upwards
I think I would go to the
Stratosphere

To keep this perfect feeling
The lightness of all her love
For just a bit longer

My words wet; careless


But infused with love


To be soaked inside


Your parched, tender heart


Rejuvenate you

I like this
Style you have
The hair
Perfectly sculpted to be
Falling just over your eyes
The pout
That one might call
‘Boyish and cute’
The punkish clothes
That look questionably good
On your suburban boy body
I like this
Style you have
But I do not love it
Because I cannot love someone
So different from me
So perfect compared
To me

Skin
Silky smooth
Like satin bed sheets
Creamy and peach
Like FAGE yogurt
Undisturbed and unwrinkled
Like a pool of endless youth

Hair
Perfectly sculpted to curl and swerve
Like writing on the surface of an ice rink
Colored an array of various toffee browns
Like the fanciful coffees of foreign cities
Softened and voluminous
To fill every corner of a room like sea foam

Eyes
So young and bright
Like that of a newborn child
Blue and unbelievably light
Like staring into the tinted mirrors of a palace
Rounded and flocked by milky lashes
Like fluttering wings on a swan

How am I to fall
In love
With someone so utterly perfect
And so utterly different
Compared to me?

I am content
But not happy
But surely content
But surely eased
To sit here
And never change

Content to see
As you mature
As you grow
As you blossom
While I’m unmoved
And never change

Content to stay
Never learn maturity
Never grow new
Never discover blossoming
I wallow alone
And never change

Content to wait
As you tire
As you decide
As you leave
Knowing I’ll stay
And never change

Every evening
The world is
Swathed
In a soft
Yellow curtain
Of subtle light
Just before sunset
It’s pretty
But I’m a bit
Saddened
When it comes
Because this
Yellow curtain
Is only falling
For a nighttime
Performance
Of blackness

The teenage heart
Is a stress ball

Rubbery and
Indestructible

It bounces back
From everything

Till one day
The slightest tear

It rips apart at the seams

She caught in flames of
White hot, sporadic spouting
Misread teenage rage

I just like to think

That years

Years from this point

(Not to confused with

Years ago)

From now when my skin

Has come to change

And wrinkles around

My eyes

That I will have found

The girl I am meant

To love.

I will be content to know

That the love seeking time

(The time I take to worry

and tap my teeth

in nervousness)

Is over

And that’s just that.

I will have started something new with you.

You reached my heart
Much like a worm

Crawled through inches
Of insecurity and flesh

Till you reached that
Precious pink sac

You stuffed it full with your
Disgustingly masculine company

Slimy wiles and wriggly larva
The size of my thumbs

Then once I was
Suitably contaminated

You pierced it
Without a drop of remorse

Maggots and sludge
Emotions and memories

Burst and
Spatter across

My ******* and neck
You made your presence

Well known in my
Dying and infected carcass

I want to protect you from the storms of life
I want to be your umbrella in the torrential downpour we call tough times
Though my fabrics may be porous and the water I shield you from may cause splash back
I want to be there
At times it may seem that no one loves you
I’m **** sure that’s not true
But I am not always sure that anyone else has a good enough grasp on the word to know
That it by definition means you have to be there for the ones you claim to love
Otherwise it doesn’t mean a thing
Otherwise you’re just the dope standing in line at the store trying to get a return without a receipt
But why would anyone want to return you?
You may have come straight out of the package only to be a busted toy that fell into bad hands
But as a porous old umbrella I can assure you
In my life you are the best that I have got
I’d rather shield you from the rain than any naïve, gleaming package
Whom has no comprehension of how ****** life is beyond the store walls
And you are far more beautiful anyways, with those missing bits and nicks in your plastic
In fact I thought you were so beautiful I wrenched myself from my owner’s hands
So I could protect you from the pain within the rain instead
You were just a toy that had been trashed but I was willing to lose myself for you
Willing to lose my time inside my cocoon of ignorance in someone else’s hands
Just so that I could be blessed enough to call you my best friend
I wanted to bear the weathers over our heads so that yours wouldn’t feel a drop
And the only weather I can’t protect you from is the flood of your tears
But when they surge upon us in times of trouble I prefer to invert myself and collect
Allowing them to pool in the basin of my memories so that one day when you’re stronger than that
We can take the time to look back and laugh
At the broken toy that couldn’t see that her worst problems
Could be fixed by a leaky old umbrella

I was swimming;

I was
Strong
Confident
Powerful

Treading through the only current

That was
Strong
Confident
And powerful enough

To keep up with me
And my needs

When suddenly the current
Was manipulated; as liquids usually are
Into a massive funnel
With a spout too small
For me to even kind of conceivably fit through

The current is gone

But I’m still curled up

I am still
Weak
Timid
Useless

Against this smooth, slippery surface
Still wet with that current’s touch
Yet so, so, very
Alone

Point, Whisper, Laugh
Judge her; that girl there
The fool on the leash of
The cruelest but
Most beautiful girls

Point, Whisper, Laugh
Judge her; that girl there
As she stumbles, head over heels
To try and please
The cruelest but
Most beautiful girls

Point, Whisper, Laugh
Judge her; that girl there
As she falls for yet another gorgeous woman
Who's only going to take advantage of her naïve demeanor
The cruelest but
Most beautiful girls

Point, Whisper, Laugh
Judge her; that girl there
It’s never going to stop, this pattern
She has grooves on her neck from the leashes of
The cruelest but
Most beautiful girls

She’ll never learn will she?

They are not in love
Her sea green gazes
Are not filled with
Love or compassion
They are filled by
Dissatisfaction and
Distaste at what she
Has allowed herself
To settle for and with

They are not in love
His watery blue glances
Are not filled with
Love or compassion
They are filled by
Desperation and
The admiration of a
Mere man child
Unaware of what he has

They are not in love
My darkened ocean stares
They are filled by
Love and compassion
They are filled by
Utter devotion and
Sheer romanticized love
I could give her and it'd
Be worth so much more than his.

They are not in love
The media’s pale gray glares
Are not filled with
Love and compassion
They are filled with
Greed and rejection
Of what is not fitting
In the perfectly styled
Heterosexual world

They are not in love
I would like to proclaim
With hell to the media
And his watery blue glances
I could fill her with
Far more love and compassion
Than he or the media
Ever cared to give to her

There was a smell
Of ***** in the air

There was an eye
Brown like ***** matter

There was a thought
About someone else’s 4 PM dump

There it was in my mind
As I was kissed for the very first time

I need to write something
No, no you don’t understand

I need to write
I need to prove something

(Though I do not know what it is)

That I’m talented?
That I’m alive?

That despite weeks and weeks
And months and months

Of retreating into the darkest corners of my mind
Giving you only dark, depressing drabbles

If anything
To go by

So despite being well aware
That this piece is going to be

Complete and utter ****
**** that’s hot and moist

Plugged with pine straw and grass

Beneath the glorious writers
Of HP’s feet

I need to make that sacrifice

I am here
I am *alive

I am a human being

Love thrives in my chest

Fresh faced, new, blissfully unaware

Or as some would say


Ignorant


Until all the bigots see

With their blind eye's view

They are traumatized to realize

That my love will be


Her's

I am tired
Oh so unbelievably
Undoubtedly
Exhaustedly
Tired

I feel as if I am
Carrying the weight
Of the world
And all its burdens
On my shoulders

When in reality
Not a soul would give me
The time of day
Let alone a dark secret to hold
Or a trust needing thing
For me to never breathe

It’s the encumbrance
Of having nothing to carry
Whilst other march
Indifferent to their darkest loads
That makes my shoulders so heavy

I am tired
Oh so unbelievably
Undoubtedly
Exhaustedly
Tired

Normality

Is how he stays
Awake and warm
Coated in the
Sticky sweat and
Grimed residue

From thoughts of you
The touch he craves
He can picture and
Violate your
Pure young image

Immorally

Is how my mind
Stays plagued with
A cloud of love
Wispy and soft
Adoration

From thoughts of you
Attentions craved
I can’t wish for
One **** handhold
It is a sin

Perhaps this is

Insanity

Love is not pure
Not in any form

In order to
Keep my canvas

Unsoiled of these
Unwholesome blots

I am lonely
Clean; yet unseen

Place the blade against your wrists
Let my metallic lips give you a ****** kiss
Murmur pain and pleasure into your bloodstream
Incisions of my cold stainless steel falsehood
Leaking liquid fabrications of happiness on your skin
Stinging your nerves at the reminder of your failure
Knowing that you will always tolerate it
Just to feel the razor sharp rush of it all
To feel anything at all

I can still recall
The oddest things
About our embraces

The warmth of her blotchy cheeks;
Swollen like water balloons
Beneath my fingers

The scent of tears and perfume
A salty fume of womanhood
Swirling in my nostrils

The clogged up tone of her congested sniffles
Vaguely feminine snorts
Bouncing around my ears

I can still recall
The oddest things
About our embraces

They were all
So
Sad

Touches
Soft and feathery
The dreamy intimacy of
Some lovely golden haired angel

Touches
Soft and feathery
Begin to burn and
Sting like some twofaced ******

Touches
Soft and feathery
Sear my very skin
Till I’m melted like earwax

Touches
Soft and feathery
Lie

I love the ignorance
That so many can live in

How we can easily
Without even realizing we’ve done it

Categorize or stereotype
And make assumptions in mere seconds

Oh yes please
Preach your words of recognition

Then go on to label and typecast
Every single one of us without a second thought

True acceptance

Can I survive?
In your blood red world,
Of high expectations and meager lives.
With so many rules my mind cannot unfurl?

You would not endure it.
If were to see my blue society:
Days are not planned; hardly stitched.
And those awards you hold mean nothing to me.