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409 · Apr 2018
Forget-Me-Not Eyes
His eyes, those sapphire forget-me-nots,
blue like my pen’s bleeding heart, I ought
to drown myself in his floral smile
that curls his tulips in classic style

His cheeks a soft rose, fit for a snapshot.
He sprouts hope, blossoming in my thoughts.
I’m in love with this lily of the nile
and his forget-me-not eyes

His soul down to earth, with roots that cannot
be pulled up or contained by a clay ***.
A heart of marigold and mind fertile,
full of wisdom to grow the extra mile.
I love his heart, mind, his smile and whatnot
and his forget-me-not eyes.
299 · Apr 2018
Somersaults
No polaroid could capture
your eyes, or the stars
that freckle them
and do them justice.

No cleverly worded poem
could begin to describe
your ringing laughter
and gentle smile.

No portrait painting
could match the somersaults
my stomach does
when I look at you.

No wind sends chills
down my spine
and warms my face
like your velvet voice.

I could never pine
for anything like I do
your eyes, your smile, your voice,
for nothing holds more value.
275 · Apr 2018
Trouble
I know you are trouble,
but perhaps that's why
I am so in love with you.

My heart speeds double
and words fail as I pine
though I know my love isn't true.

And you, dear, you are
just the trouble I need
to spice things up now and then.

So give all the scars
you wish to leave me
and break my heart again.
270 · Apr 2018
Man in the Train Station
There is no satiation
for the man who begs in the train station.
He only wanted a short vacation,
but now he's high on the medication
and has lost his drive to the nation.

Now he can't break his fixation
on the thing that's the imitation
of the joy from liberation
that he'll never get from exploitation
or the momentarily pleasing sensation.

He banks all his accusations
on his friends and false information
and insists there's no correlation
between his health and exultation.
Every morning is a new libation.

His drug furthers his damnation
and says there's no negotiation
for he is but a fly to creation.
There is no satiation
for the man who begs in the train station.
260 · Apr 2018
My Dark Side
My dark side and I

were always out of touch

and I've always tried

to leave it as such

but it seems I can't hide

it from showing so much.



My dark side and I

were always strangers,

lonely passers by.

She knows the dangers

of looking me in the eye

and I know I can't change her.



But my dark side

is not raging or unjust.

It's not sloth, jealousy, or pride.

You only have to trust

that my real dark side

is nothing but lust.
254 · Apr 2018
Rain
You dim the sky
and drown the earth
remind me how I cry
when my chest hurts.

You dampen spirits
and quiet my voice
until you must hear it
and have no choice.

Silence me, rain.
I dare you to try.
Each force of nature in vain
until the day I die.
Of course I have beef with Christianity,
for all it seems to be is a glossed up industry
full of fear and hate and hypocrisy.

Embellished bibles and diamond purity rings,
where is the meaning in these earthly things?
Where is the love we’re supposed to bring
to this broken world of foolish kings?

We are so quick to condemn
those who turn away from Him
because of our raging hate towards them.
Can’t you show some love again?

If it’s their hearts we want to change
let us first change ourselves
and in turn change the game
for if love is our first attack and defense
maybe God will make a little more sense.
225 · Apr 2018
Untitled
Boxes of chocolates
and diamond rings
and bunches of roses,
none of those things
will win you my heart
will give you a chance.
Nothing lasts forever,
except for romance.

Touch my hand,
hold me tight,
speak sweet nothings,
set it right.
202 · Apr 2018
I Don't Love You
I don't love you
only the idea of you.

The idea of you
showing me off
to your friends.

The notion that
someone would tell me
"I love you"
and mean it.

But I don't love you,
that's the problem.
I only want to be
the ******* your arm
walking up the street.

Don't say it doesn't matter
if I don't care about you.
I know you'll hurt
and you won't show it.
The matter is
I just don't love you.
I try to avoid being cliché
but that's my struggle
every single day.
I know I can't write
anything real
except for the feelings
that I feel.
Never different, always
the same emotion
over and over again.
I wish I could feel
anger every now and then.
I wish what I felt wasn't a trend.

I wish I was Bono
or Lennon or Dylan.
Then I would write about
what I believe in.
My lyrics would be true,
my faith behind.
My passion is my music
and my life is inside.

But what I write,
it's all the same!
My entire life it's been this way.
And though it's my passion,
I can't escape the traps
for myself that I've made.

"Let me go, let me go," I scream.
I'm stuck in the mundane
like my worst dream.
I doubt everything I create;
it steals my passion away.
It's like war with myself
and in no man's land I lay.

When will it end? When will I make
something that I love,
something I don't hate?
When will I ditch the clichés
and embrace the truth
of who I am despite my youth?
When will I be like the men I most admire
and create something
to set hearts on fire?
201 · Apr 2018
Doubt
"You'll be a star," they say,
"you'll make it far, one day."

"You're truly talented," they insist.
But it seems my only talent is to exist.
200 · Apr 2018
What Makes You Feel Alive?
Before you leave today
I must ask,
what makes you feel alive?

Is it the blood in your veins
or your heartbeat inside?
Or is it the adrenaline
surging through your bones
on a late night drive?
Or the raging hormones
when you're with her
leaving you high?

Tell me,
what makes you feel alive?

Do you feel it
chasing your passion?
Packing up and leaving home
following your intuition?

What makes you feel alive?

What about the silence
when all is lost
and you remember things
that time forgot?

I challenge you
what makes you feel alive?
Live it out
even when you die.
198 · Apr 2018
I Would Have
I would have
stood on the ledge with you
until you got down.

I would have
waited below on the pavement
and caught you.

I would have
dropped to my knees
and begged you to stay.

I would have
been there with you
so you wouldn't be alone.

I would have
jumped for you
so you wouldn't.

I would have
taken your place
if only I had known.
186 · Apr 2018
Speechless
I'm speechless.
I try to string together
the words to describe
how I feel.

Destroyed, heartbroken,
devastated, lost.
None of it begins
to explain my grief.

J u s t  c o m e  b a c k.
Seeing you is like being
out of touch with myself.

Her eyes are like your sky
but I see you look up less and less.

I don't know if I'm your horizon
but we both know I'll act that way...

But if she is your sky
and I'm your horizon

This is just the love triangle
that nobody likes

I see now where your heart belongs
and it seems your eyes are set on the horizon
Kind of fell out of poetry over the summer but I decided to pull out something I wrote a couple months ago
182 · May 2018
Breath
Is it what makes us alive

or is it what kills us?

Is it what we take

as we enter this world

or the clue we leave behind

of our existence?



Why does it hasten

when he speaks

and leave my lungs

when I need it most?

Have I ever breathed

the same breath twice?

If not, where does it go?

I believe someone's

stolen it this time.



Each one brings us

closer to death

but we take more

when we're most alive.

What does that say about the world's cruelty?

— The End —