my soul is in trouble
my challenge is to survive myself
not sure how much pain i can bear
i've got a pretty high thresh hold
but why
does it have to be this way?

just a day
but feels more epically
awful
than many
here i stand
looking at the rubble
of the failure of this thing
this love
you're gone
we're broken
and so am i

It's another flood
The creativity
Oh Lordy
Is there no end?
You had your own idea
Of the finish line
Pulled the rug out from under me
Wow
Life
Sometimes you realize it
Really is too late
And sometimes you don't

I just had a blast of ideas hit me
So hard
So fast
My mind just slipped sideways
And no paper around to write on. ******
****. Gone in 60
But the particulates will filter down
Rain into my head
I'll grow another batch soon

Meanwhile I'm looking at my long game
Because maybe I've got all the time in the world
At least now I know what I want
And that we
Are made up of the seven deadly sins
And all the other stuff that balances it all out

Oooh! Seduction, that was one of them
Yes

Yeah, maybe tomorrow
I will have enough strength

There was Before You
When I was mostly sane
Then there has been Since You
Hello, life
Hello, love
Hello, pain
Now I can't help but wonder
if I will have to know
After You

Whenever I let go of you

It's because I have to hold myself together

There once was a woman who'd been so sure

That people were actually quite pure

Til it happened one day

In an earth-shattering way

That she realized that no one (including her) really cared any more

I f I ever fall again
M y heart will know what feels right
P roviding that I listen to it, for cryin' out loud
O nce, I loved you beyond all reason
S o brilliantly deceptive and captivating
T hank you so much for all of it
E very moment we shared
R eminds me of what not to do next time

L ove me
I pray
A gain
R eally??

this girl
was a quiet one
noticing
everything

bashful reticent
with very loud thoughts

she could feel all the colors

And I'm listening to Cat Stevens
yes, I want to live on a commune
yes, I wish I had someone to talk to
yes, I'm in an awful way

(All I do, lately, is steal the words of my heroes. Please forgive the dull torpor etc etc etc)

if only you could know
how, deep down inside me
I know I'll never let you go
and yet... how can that even be?
when we f_cked it all up
again and again and again?
and it's so odd how now, I simply GET what it's all about
all these poems (yes, yours too) songs books movies since we came down from the trees
I KNOW why we're here now-to help each other after we hurt ourselves on ourselves

you were there the whole time with all your games
me I was here with all my childlike ignorance

and yet we haven't talked in months
but I cry for what we might have been
yearn for you
live to touch you
(and yes we all think I'm crazy... it wasn't just you)
does it every end?

somebody please say yes

please

We all come here,  and why, may I ask?

Seems to be 90% misery
                        5% humor
                        5% hope

or something like that
Percentages, bah!!  So I guess I come to learn

100% love
  90% pain
100% life

love and loss and stuff

It's all WORDS and not very many numbers thank goodness but
I'm a coward again
because I still believe in them and try to write them and well...I worship them. The words, I mean. And memories. And beliefs and opinions and truths. See, these aren't even sentences.

He doesn't believe in me and he is lost to me now, and I think I know what he thinks of me and he is 90% wrong and since I can't say hello and I can't say goodbye, we just fade away

Are we cowards? Yes, I think so

I always did **** at math anyway

Well, Hello there, Hello Poetry

Yes

Perhaps a place such as this
Where lost souls come to share
Will help me feel some comfort, sweetness, some bliss
Instead of the constant confusion, dislike, and scare

or No

Perhaps another anonymous group of dots on another screen
With people signifying, expressing, bemoaning, loving, longing
Will help me see once and for all
That this really is just no place for me, for belonging

Maybe

Alone is where I almost always am, by choice
Within me, I know things that almost no one else wants to know
Just like you do, except that you have found your voice
(And for the record, almost is one of the worst words I ever heard, and it shows)

There are 10,000 poems in me. But there is nothing new under the sun and I can just visit here and see my own pain written by strangers and it helps me feel less alone and I thank you