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5.8k · Feb 2015
The Heist
Pen Lux Feb 2015
split my mind open,
hear me flip-flop
happily irritated
watching your
face break
heavy tears
you shake
you ache
so take
a break
and take
a breath

digging holes
taking pills
sliding down
fillin' hills
the chills
my thrills
no bills
countin' kills
ten fingers
smell lingers
hell bringers
not singers

give me that...
bring me there...

the troubles
my doubles
be bubbles
black moths
white veins
no money
hopping trains
you blame
the rain
for pain
to think
a drink
of water
taught her
brought her
to the edge
nothing left
to take


give me that...

split my mind open,
hear me flip-flop
happily irritated
watching your
face break
heavy tears
you shake
you ache
so take

a breath

give me that...
bring me there...  

we're going underground

your games
my flames
the names
we tame
the light
breaks night
we slide
we hide
so take
a breath


split my mind open,
hear me flip-flop
happily irritated
watching your
face break
heavy tears
you shake
you ache
so take

take me
bake me
shake the dirt
from my bones
no longer
got me
in a
choke hold
feeling bold
stories told
so grab
a hold
as we unfold

no longer bound
by fear
my dear
the present is clear
growing and sprouting

these are lyrics I wrote for a rap to some beats and the track name was "the heist"
3.9k · Jul 2010
Pen Lux Jul 2010
The woman on the corner forgot to shave her legs,
but  men are only interested in  soft women,
inside and out.
She couldn't  go home, or call,
because she didn't have a phone.
So she sat on the corner
with nothing to keep her warm
except the hair on her legs.

A man walked by who wanted her service,
he had a bag of lemons and an old watch,
she noticed he was wearing shorts,
the amount of  hair on his legs made her feel better.
2.8k · Dec 2011
feels better
Pen Lux Dec 2011
Here's something to impress you
it's my heart wide open, curious, fearless
approach me, remove the flowers from my hair
take them home and wait for them to die
then tell me about the thoughts that possessed you
in the moments you tried to cry, but couldn't.

There's always something eating away at you, isn't there?
Keep scribbling, croak louder! Wake the town, bring me down.
Take me take me take me down! Build the wall of silence just a little thicker
I want to be sure I'm not nervous, I want to release all solidity and flow
through you as liquid, as sunlight, as starlight as wishes as glances you cast me
that I wasn't supposed to notice, (but did).

I love you is a funny way of starting a sentence,
a sentence is just something we use to get through the day.
****** up communication building blocks burying me deeper
than I can climb and they're crumbling like your emotions when you've
got hallucinations spreading in your spine, breaking you down, back broke,
stomach chalk throat choke nose coke short ****, inhale me like you do your smoke.
I taste the same I taste the same.

Yes yes yes yes yes I forgive you, I forgive myself
self-love self-help self-yelp
telepathy wavves like fog in a graveyard
retracing your steps because everything's changing
and you're burning wood
cast your fires on me, I'll be your shallow shadow
and I'll guide myself as far as you'll let me,
don't drag me down
just take me there.
Quickly, before before before.

I start to miss you and I think
I'm just recycling my gatsby complex into something more tangible
than tangerines in the middle of winter
or a wind storm,
trying to eat when there's a lack of corn,
and you can't digest it anyways.

you don't
belong in this
this wagon
doesn't even exist.

I'm memorizing you in ways like cutting with knives
and thinking about listening but then getting distracted.

Re-birthing in the direction of “i thought you might”
dying downwards and backwards and all the ways you've seen me
because that's what I do when you see me. I die.
It feels better than being alive so **** me killmekillmekillme.

There! Right THERE! That's the separation.
2.6k · Aug 2010
Answering Machine 17
Pen Lux Aug 2010
All I'm looking for is some clear communication in the physical world.

I've got some intentions that don't necessarily balance on the scale of right or wrong,
but self-love gets old after a while.

I know I haven't talked about this in months,
but getting closer has been my top priority,
(since always).

Celebrities die in threes,
and relationships come in twos,
so where does that leave me?

I would use your name like some of my favorite poets do,
but I'm not that daring.
I'm an addict,
and I'll always be a top-notch quitter,
apart from the fact that I find new obsessions.

I have these new rips in my skin,
I can't help but cover them up,
or wonder about yours,
and if they're the same.

I think it's too late to compare,
but you know I tried to say this earlier.
2.5k · Jun 2010
18 Kids
Pen Lux Jun 2010
I pretend to be a doctor on my free time
Delivering free pizza to house wives

Playing games on my calculator
Arguing with the math teacher

Receiving a letter, spreading butter, taking my birth control.
I draw an animal poorly, and a corn dog.
Bottle rockets and fire crackers.
Steroids and M80’s.
I love life,
But not really,

‘Cause I have 18 kids.
2.5k · May 2013
Pen Lux May 2013
my rhyme schemes
are often best
to be replaced
because you
can't hear me croon
in the afternoon
as I type out my feelings
alone in my room.
I'm thinking of trying to get a few people together to share poetry through youtube videos.
Help all of each other critique
for any of us who wish to speak,
                                            be heard,
                                            help learn.
Pen Lux May 2013
I walk the empty road of hurried days
the dark holds opportunities that the light burns through.
Nerves have been narcissistic
in that self-loathing battering
that I promised you I wouldn't commit to again.

is it different if you're a witness?

Hiding isn't part of the agenda,
if you could call irrationality an agenda.

here's to touching upon a few points in which I don't show all sides.

I'm nervous to talk to the people who make me happy
and I'm jaded to their presence,
because I'm a modern-day gatsby
with a touch of bukowski (or maybe a slam)
and all I want is for  this romantic inside of me to give up on the struggle
and give in.

I want to let her form allude me because it's not important,
she just wants recognition for the fact that she has an education
and knows how to use it.
I'm just going to let my words smash onto the page, maybe edit
before a show, maybe not.
Probably go drink a beer on the local trail and stare at the back
yards of the wealthy and sharpie in an eye ball on the cement
brick on which I set my empty bottle for company, because
flowers don't get far in foam.

Nostalgia here we are again,
this time there's no search for meaning,
I know you completely and ever since we've met
you've refused to let go (somewhat of a curse, yet I love you).

If I want to let myself be free, then I have to let go of others judgement.
If maybe for a second I didn't think of what others thought about me
and I didn't think about them to occupy the empty space, then I would
truly return to the person I was before my self-esteem plummeted beneath
all that I knew to be right and wrong. Before it hurt to write my feelings
because of the fear that what I wrote wouldn't be good enough, or long enough,
no matter how many compliments came shooting through me.

"I forgot, you're bad at accepting compliments."

I don't want that to be true, I don't want to beat myself up
over the fact that someone else has great beauty simply
because I am blind of my own.

Self-love, here I come,
it'll help me live life without tangles.
keepin' crazy, as usual
stream of consciousness
thought I'd lost it, here's
something for the soul, I
appreciate all who accept
whatever it is I'm doing.

I guess one would call it:
Pen Lux Apr 2013
a jealous heart
wants no more
than to forgive.
even when there
is nothing to be

this pulsing, throbbing energy,
takes refuge where you choke.
terribly sick from the throat.
my chest is a boat, and the
drowning doesn't cease with the life jacket.
vibrant and not easily forgotten
and yet still, you seem to have forgotten
what it is like to breathe with me, or rather
my feelings escape me as soon as I achieve the ability to explain them.

I reject the first thoughts that I recognize as uncomfortable
and give them to you for further translation, yet the energy within
those very words haven't diluted before they reach you and you spit
them back as "Ego".

I cannot help myself as much as I'd like to,
yet I try.
I cannot remove the parts of myself which I see in you,
yet I try,
because of the terrible, knee in my gut feeling,
and the rejection of willingness to expend your energy to help me find happiness,
because somehow if you can make me feel intensely about any emotion,
then to you that means I am only happy when you make it so.

**** that idea.

I make myself happy, I make myself sad, I make myself whatever the hell I want to,
although I sometimes fall into feelings, (a mistake which only proves more the imperfections
of being human), and the lack of control over everything.
Yet I try to take heed and pay attention to myself and how what I do effects others.

You bring immense energy, but you are not the source of my life, my light, or my darkness.

We simply share both,
from your prism to mine
and back again.
I shine through you and make color
and you shine through me to do the same.
We help cast shadows and peek through darkness,
******* hell, my heart feels so raw that I think it forgot how to break.

A jealous heart
wants nothing
more than to forgive,
and be forgiven.
I find that I cannot be everything, and I don't want to be. I simply wish for recognition. Although, something new is more exciting than what you know. Yet it seems you and I both know nothing, and perhaps you do care.
                                  we are mirrors.
2.1k · Jul 2016
the (e)motions of time
Pen Lux Jul 2016
love is not so far away
this morning
a kiss on the lips
and a shut door

inspiration blooms in the shade
while the sun burns down
on the back of his neck
as he works
peeling away old memories
past hurt and pains
trust that was broken
each day
he gains
sends flames

in this habitat
somewhat of a

sleeping in his bed
dreams run through my head
nightmares or sweet dreams
waking is breaking through the seems
what I've seen and what I've done
are comparable to none
again, today is different
but similar to yesterday

my mind is still running
while my heart still wants to play
my body isn't moving
for my soul is bound by passion

desire is an unworthy foe
who I believed to be a friend
not so long ago

love is not the enemy
such as I used to believe
I think to move is worth it

tending to the garden,
the flowers, and the trees

yes, time is moving forward
and it's my turn to follow suit
time is moving forward
and all I see
is me
and you
2.1k · Apr 2013
strength & stretching
Pen Lux Apr 2013
treat yourself like a lullaby
soft and sweet
give yourself away to the restless
biting their tongues and twisting their bodies
(like I do, 'cause I can't help it)

attraction pulses through poison
I don't want to hurt you
attraction is deluded through conversation
I know your annoyance stems from over-stimulation
and that  maybe if I'm alone then you won't be afraid to be,
or at least if I am then you won't
'cause as soon as I need someone you're there.

here's where I jump from one thing to another
this isn't about you, I know what you're thinking
this is the problem with explaining poetry, or maybe it's just my problem
but I can't hold on to the same point, even if I were to die without one,
and if I were, I'd die screaming, "**** me!"

here is where all things I've never found inspiration in meet
where at more love than hate explains how I'm not alone,
and that after meeting a real-live-manic-depressive
(that I really hope doesn't own a gun)
can help me more than I can help them.

I had *** without love
and realized what a love meant
and the distinction between the two.

Without experience, there is no learning, for me.
without reading, there is no knowledge, for me.
without interest, there is nothing, for me.

caught up in the heart drop of loss,
I decide to learn as much as I can
and not give in to myself,
distraction is paradise, lately.

I know time is just a measurement from the way you looked at me,
the way you held my face, and kept moving no matter how tired you were.
sweet sweat tired breath repetition redemption saliva salvation
I love you, I love her, I love him, I love them
I love me, I love us,
I love all.

whoa there, you're so personal.
you're so jaded, you're covered in attention.
I'm not going to let go just because you want me to,
I'm not going to hold on just because I'm scared,
I'm just going to go in whatever direction I feel is best,
no matter what whoever thinks.
Rebellion on my finger tips
watch out for yourself and I'll do the same for me.

I'll send you sweet dreams while I can't sleep.
2.0k · Mar 2012
suggestive tendencies
Pen Lux Mar 2012

we're intertwined
         in imagined concepts
and we've got the same layout.
some sections colored the same
but we still look so different.


I feel like a story basket
locked in a casket,
avoiding spitting on graves.
you're the foam at the bottom:
           all I have left and I want more.
I'm just a foam hound daddy,
             a locked foam hawk.
you open your face, intoxication pouring out.
too much stimulation leads to lack of stimulation.


through my fingertips
budding beneath my eye lids.
I see what you're saying.
translate what you're feeling through my skin.


slabs of meat for hands,
place them on the stove.
(I feel better with my head close to the oven).
you've gotta soak in the seasons
or they'll fry off so fast,
it'll be all chew and no taste.
all **** and no chase.
I'm simmering
let me marinate.


social stimulation starts simmering smoothly.


I'll let my body make the decision when it remembers how to move.
too much to touch and not enough to stay away.
Pen Lux May 2013
curiosity tainted
music's coursing wild through my veins

prelude to making love on pages

your soul opens, dark pools that flood my heart,
warm, balanced, alive and carefully sweet
(yet not too sweet,
the risk of letting go has been conquered,
  and the freedom prevails),
our dance is symmetrical as we shape into each other.

your skin teaches me how to be smooth
as the distinction between your hair
and your face fades,
just as your body and mine intertwine
until your hips are all I know and
your lips are all I see with my eyes closed.

a comfortable lack of noise apart from
the pleasure of breathing. I remember
every detail of the pounding flesh, the sweat
carving rivers on your chest, the kiss from
my neck to the breast.

I've never known a closeness such as this,
your gentle gaze has gripped my heart,
some times I want to tear it out
so as not to get overwhelmed by the beauty.

your love is art, and your expression is priceless.

I often find it difficult to hold myself back,
our love is raw, but I'd rather my ****** not be.
a poem i wrote on purpose
2.0k · Aug 2012
Pen Lux Aug 2012
self-sacrificed suffering
this life burns into nothing.
abstract obstructions
my hands are full,
cleaning, moving,
legs sore
and voice changing tones,
laughing is more persistent.

don't be nervous:
retract all motions blocked by the feeling of it.
lack of control, the situation needs to build itself
and all you have to do is live it.

communication codes:
call me esoteric emily,
leave me up in trees
I'll throw apples down for you to eat.
you feel like stones,
cement, hard-laced fruit loops,
and the morning after, and the year
after year after year

something smooth to rhyme to,
you're building fences for me to jump,
I'll leave you to mind them.

your eyes were my eyes, and it felt natural.
something you showed me that took advantage
of the bounds that tie and rebound and break,
something similar to a run on sentence.

sarcastic similes
arcane knowledge seeping through my eyelids.
now I'm forced by my own self-will to tell you everything.  
there are more forces than that,
I'll learn to respect them in silence
rather than saying that I don't believe in them.
doesn't mean I'll get on my knees and pray,
just means I might want something.
seemingly mean
from the things that seem
                                                                                to tunnel
your garbage,
                       your sinking
led me to believe in the beauty I swore was gone.
thankfully all suffering passes no sooner than happiness does.
*more than half illuminated.
Pen Lux Aug 2013
I see you, as if for the first time,
and my heart collapses upon itself
a million times over. I see you, and
my tongue tastes like silver as I speak.

Words cannot contain themselves within my vessel.
Words cannot escape the realms in which I tread.
Words fall short and I bend over to pick them up.
Words slip through my fingers and burn my skin like acid.

Words trip me over myself, myself breaks habits
and creates new ones, new words to fall after, new
webs to catch opportunities to catch you to leave me

Morning fails me,
afternoon and you lose me,
night beckons my entirety
and my self is searching.
I can no longer control my direction
as I am pulled by "fate".

I saw you again for the first time in forever.
Your eyes were sad, curious, and tired.
They were hurried in their silence, and
screaming in their wake.

"I will see you again!" they said, "I don't know when,
but soon..."

Now is forever, and I will see you again.
Now is a friend, the past an enemy.
Now is reality, and all else a memory.

I am dissolving in my madness,
having days that run like snakes,
I want to slam the breaks of my wake
and shake the feeling that I am a mistake.
Each day that passes tells me to take myself
and go, find a ride, hitch hike, **** yourself before
it's too late to stop breathing, semi-comfortably,
in these darkened days that bud neglect, and
self-destruct. I enjoy the rude and malicious
taste of nutrition after being starved of all
passion. I enjoy the pain-tattered crack
in my skull from the thoughts I collect.

I want to project something worth a lifetime.

I will soon create
I will soon abstain
I will soon.
I will...
Pen Lux Oct 2012
the time to express the inner workings of my being
keep slipping out in other ways than what I'm used to.
my speaking is creaking down a hallway with a flickering bulb,
such as the light of my life when I'm straining my neck to get
a better body,
                                                                                                  a better look.
you've charmed me, caught me in your dark eyes.
you've locked me in, and I want to cut off your locks,
and hold them like hands in my pockets
so that you don't have the chance to break them.

emotions are static lately, sparking
catching soft satin on fire
steigen auf mich
I'll show you how I survive.
I love you with all my heart*
1.9k · Sep 2013
tender rising
Pen Lux Sep 2013
porcupine, devil's receptionist,
your splinters are aching again.
manifested figure, you are alien.
more so are your actions.

I am thoroughly impressed
by the displays of your affections
boldly handing them to me,
so rudely beautiful, and my limbs
are too shocked for movement.

each layer within me shifts,
black goes grey, blue goes green,
brown goes red and gold, weeds
become sunflowers, the ground below
us begins to heave, volcanoes splinter
and split down their middles, ridges
of lava gasping for air, bubbling, black to grey to white
to blue and purple fire. sweat, we sweat but we don't catch flame.
sweat, and I am liquid at last.

considering possibilities,
shuffling my vocabulary like cards in a deck,
preparing myself for the most difficult game life could offer,
preparing myself in tender fragments of flaky crystal.
words become thin glass in my mind, and I
begin to feel the cuts in my throat, 
climbing up my tongue trying to create some movement,
even if that movement is pain.

movement has suddenly shook my bones out of their choke hold.
I gasp for air, grasp on to what you hold out.
your outline against my insides at last, your third eye cracked open
and I see behind and through the meshing that takes place. I see so
much that I am blind, torn with black and white.

I close my eyes with good intention:
I am black.
more dark than thorn roofed ships,
smashing against waves made of shadow.
I open my eyes with impression and find you white.
more white than the ghosts in my bones,
winter shivers back with thoughts of you.
I close my eyes with good intention.

I tire more and more
my head weighs down
with all the color.
I want no more black or white.

you tire more and more
your head weighed down
by holding your colors in.

we become tectonic
and all goes grey.

ashes of what we felt that day
aches of what we did

morning reaches my empty lids,
you've taken all I could say with
your silence. a plague. a bartenders keep.
I saw you again before the moon,
I even saw you standing beneath it's reflection,
Pen Lux May 2011
you're the same as I remembered you:
                                                            ­ eyes like daggers
                                               swim towards my barefeet
it's almost summer again: it's too hot to hold you, or
                                                              ­         anyone.
sighs about tomorrow: "you're just going to fall asleep again."
I avoid the mess and go straight for the spill: lips. eyes. brain.
you're the lipstick on my coffee cup, the smell of smoke after a house burns down.
she screams about the horses, the costumes, the memories:
                                                       ­                                         I tell her to be quiet.
"just shut your mouth! just shut your god ****** mouth!" and again,
                                                                ­                              "you're hideous" in a different way.
the anger moistened breath (shouting)
released her from the frenzy of being herself.  
                                                      ­                   standing in front of you, arms shaved and knees lotioned:
"thank you", from the voice of insanity,
signed on the back of a handmade book
with your name on it.                                                          exit­: left ear right ear left ear right ear left here.
Words like ghosts      they go straight     through her.
lack of empathy lack of mourning lack of desire lack of satisfaction
it all goes down the drain: in this house
                                          (clogged with hair [it doesn't matter who's, so don't ask]).
the boredom cries out (again) with freedom
                                                         ­            and instead we call it "relaxation".
(things we think
but we never think)                                  
to say: I lost the meaning of vacation counting license plates on the way to Texas.
(would bring back more than just the dead)
it would bring us                     back to dead,
and death would say
(something ringing in our ears) that we understand.
              that we understand the things we want to,
whatever they may be,
and then maybe:                   in death
                               we can find peace.
1.7k · Oct 2013
beast of bourbon
Pen Lux Oct 2013
meat bones

loves tones
abrasively chanting

hates moan
leave him alone
heavy sleep

will never
hold you again.
karma is greener, much meaner.
volume displacement
losing you was the punishment
of my crime.

never again
will I love you,
never again
the things that I said.

there's nothing you could want or need from, of, or because of me:
not even the memory of our best days
our first kiss or our last kiss
there's nothing I miss,
never again,
will I love with a love so blindly.
never again,
a love built on such a crumbling foundation.

never again will I run away from pain to love,
love which stems from any other source save for love itself
is not a love for me.

love again?
I will.
1.6k · Apr 2013
Pen Lux Apr 2013
blanketed in white
skin. that shadow
creeps me out of
my own. it's you
that burns through
gazes, not me. I
burn through pages,
in wrinkles written
with pen. loose grip
on water, I slip into
habits a little too big
for me and it's the same
as being held as a child.
when the distance grew
as I did, my underarms
began to ache, that familiar
fear of being picked up. taller still,
I am, standing in a pit that raises
to my knee caps.

I'm often caught trying
to keep my roots warm
while my face melts.
1.6k · Mar 2014
emergence is peace
Pen Lux Mar 2014
we plant the seeds of our own destruction
"everything in moderation."

here I am in backlash station,
braiding my hair
with poison in my lungs,
on my breath,
in my stare.

my silver tongue has an alchemists tooth
a lung for a lung and the whole world's done
anti-smoke anti-drink anti-fry
diet coked, diet thinking, diet guy
yes, he's gonna die

bleeding through his finger tips
we touch lips, hips? say goodbye,
maybe take him home next time.
he's got me in a bind
stuck in his rhyme
he peeled me from the core
though I had a rind
but the fruit which I drink
is GMO such as he,
the fluoride in my sink.

a love poem made me think
a tag is such a drag
because a label isn't me,
a price could be
a held too close and you're history

he sent to me
late night called to see
if the aches from which I break have calmed down to be
more of a lesson than a test,
more of a sleep than a restlessness.

there's no one who should have to witness this...

"I'll be okay."
maybe I'll say it again...
"I'll be okay."

For once and forward because I want to,
a lot of people said I didn't have a choice but to
and I don't want to hurt any of you,
with the insanity of keeping things in
with the feelings that I simply suppressed
thought he made me happy and undressed
foolishly traded my tears for alcohol
sweet words for smoke, true love for a joke.

I've lost all I could lose
let him take all that I thought could be took,
and now I finally see what was to be had all along,
what was there all along...

you all were right and I was wrong.

I ran away, that's not okay,
but I'm back and here today.
I love you all, I love you most,
I wont push you away, so hold me close.

I'm breaking and aching, I'm shedding out tears,
I'm sorry for masking and mashing my fears.

I know I don't know and I wish to learn quick,
there's not that much time and there's no love in a ****,
excuse my bad language for I do not speak  French...

I'll stop with the jokes and go for what's true,
there's no more emptiness in the words "I love you".
I have the most amazing friends a person could ever ask for and I have been abusing them by abusing myself because I felt worthless for so long because of the very first heart-break that took me alive, which no words could revive.

I'm done drinking, I swear it, it's hard but it's true.
that poison is wicked and I have hurt you.
The person I thought I loved most in this world told me,
"Words mean nothing in this world, only actions."

I agree to an extent... it's both.

you need both action as well as communication,
language isn't dead.. it's just abused.

thanks for reading.
Pen Lux Feb 2013
I found this poem doing algebra,
or sometime after the problems
that crept up on me
in word form
yearned to
join the page.

My face began to rot out the very words
I felt like saying but knew I shouldn't.
The pencil told me it was okay to make mistakes
and I think I went overboard, for the fear of drowning escaped me.
Every memory of the sinking ship I called home held promise.
Sweet salt singing
in and out of my mouth,
I told you I loved you.

bones bones bones
you're bathing in wood
and taste like molasses
thick in my throat
-a knot in the spine
that you tied because
you wanted to suspend yourself in my comfort.

I held you too close and came out with ****** ears.
aching for sound, and screaming
for any answer, some sweet melody that told me
that told me
let explanations take their time,
you deserve it.

desertion of desire
leave me to my streets,
where forgetfulness is salvation
and the path is better than the destination.
lean against me in the form of gravity,
your warmth is firing my senses.
I'm re-experiencing freedom for what feels like forever ago,
for what feels like never.
1.6k · Jul 2012
Subcumbant Surprises
Pen Lux Jul 2012
Lazy lines never writes
she's afraid because of what she might.
Can't seem to find her way
so she's taking a                                                break
from searching.
She sways
in and out of feelings,                                                
from the middle        
she can see the edge                                       break
but doesn't lose her place.
He wanted to hold her
as she rambled away,
kiss her cheek in the moonlight
and play her music by day.

Walk barefoot on blacktops,
backward steps, tripped in flip flops.
He's the scar on her knee, the crackle pop in her spine.
She thought to make him                                                  baked
precious berries too sweet for wine.

She feels destruction in creation
so her thoughts become less productive
and finds resonance in mistakes.
Words like hot wind
and she's depressing.
Ignoring advice from others,
she needs it
she bears it

cheek bruised
from loves subtle encounters,
hands shaking from
works formal banters,
today's not what she expected it'd be:
something sweet in the stomach.
A smooth something to bring out the best,
bitter rest in her breast,
she wants to get a better look.
1.6k · Jun 2010
Pen Lux Jun 2010
Sometime's we expect too much,
but we think we deserve it.
1.6k · Jul 2010
Answering Machine 1
Pen Lux Jul 2010
The day I learned what zero gravity was,
I went to the fair and I rode all the rides,
and I followed people that I didn't want to be with.

We all ate the same food with the same forks,
spinning until it hurt our cheeks to smile anymore,
then we tried to walk, even though we knew people were dying for our country.

When I got hurt you gave me two generic band-aids
and they wouldn't stick onto my ****** hands,
the shaking might have had a little to do with it,
but not that much.

I'm sorry that I got the phone wet when I was shaving my legs,
I just didn't want to stop laughing,
it felt too good.

So, I hope you get this message,
okay, bye.
this is the beginning of a series.
1.5k · Oct 2012
Pen Lux Oct 2012
forced to wake up
do things for others that I don't want to
not obliged to, feel condemned to.
another persons mistake and I'm pushed to my knees
with a hand slapping at my face trying to get me to eat
out of the other one:
dog food.

of course I can always leave
not that the important ones will chase after me
they'll lay on rooftops to get closer to the stars
enjoy the silence,
the freedom, they had not to shake themselves
it's not an earthquake of a morning
it's slower than a sunrise
perhaps no sleep has been.
night's enchantment has caressed you
ideas curl around your restless mind,
eyes piercing morning's pallet
with all it has to bare before it's been sought out by others.

I am
lost in thought
a parallel universe of myself
this is where beautiful thoughts bury themselves
so as to later reveal what I need
to say or to do next
I am

a force
grows stronger when impatient
insistent and intrusive
my love
my love
my love
my love reaches to the tips of your fingers
which scream for embrace
and release.
you want to write
you write
I want to read
I read
no such thing!
procrastination has the gravitational force of an addiction
I'm breeding consequence through my actions
focused on expression
feeling, it's all I can
empathy shocks me
until the lightning rays melt my heart
and my mind becomes somewhat of a battle ground for healing
one hole repaired is another dug
a filling is digested to a semi-satisfactory state
a poison is a temporary cure
continue to feed me
the poison
I'd rather feast on my own self
than grovel for what
evil offers.

my love is blind
my love is torture
my love is peace
if I let it be
my love is curious
my love is hiding
my love is wishful
my love is you
my love is the moon
my love is wondering
and wonderful
wants attention.
I want to give my love

my love is loved.
take it,
you can keep it for as long as you want.
1.5k · Feb 2013
waterfall carrier
Pen Lux Feb 2013
wet fingers
touch my face
all nervous and

rips out of my throat
so fast that it's sore when morning breaks.
I feel the rising and almost shake
it's time for another eighteen hour day.

red teeth creep into my thoughts
and the bottle in the cabinet begins to knock:
here I am, baby, drink me if you can.
if you've got the time, try not to lose your motivation.
plans can't cure this hesitation.
perspiration from more than just nervousness, what's this?
it's the eyeballs teaching you a lesson,
it's the heartbeat just wanting to leave a mess in
what you thought you could contain
in the muddied cave you call a brain,
it's the endless pits of despair you so often hear tales of.
thinking, "Oh, you silly people, pet the belly of the beast
and you'll be free."

kissing the *** of an evil spirit will leave you with less progress
than if you washed the feet of an angel with your tears.  

insides burning with lust for flesh, for a cool comfort
you can bury yourself in. if your expectations grace you with
their absence and your mind feels free enough to explore,
then share your thoughts with me this evening,
I'll give you my heart as an open door.
1.5k · Jul 2010
Pen Lux Jul 2010
Harolds rootbeer was warm but he was out of ice.
Josh said they never had any to begin with.

Harold searched the freezer desperately.
"I'm so ******* thirsty!"

Josh took out some popsicles and dropped them in Harold's glass.
"Problem solved!"
Inspired by J Hutton
1.4k · Mar 2012
best bets
Pen Lux Mar 2012
your goodness escaped
in trembles.
you're a magnet
turned over and pushing me
rough edges are
pulling me
close, rip
through my skin

nails dig deeper
thick touching we call problems.
is it wrong for a look to feel this good,
or that it took less than a second to shy away
from such a beautiful face?
no such likeness could be a mistake.

he's shrinking!
what's this, who's that?
spit back and splat!
there he goes, looking like he knows what he's doing.
clean skin masked in malnutrition
he shaved his face to make her jealous.
really really, she thought he was silly
but his empty belly left him nothing but a shell,
a broken one, or a pile of them.
shoot shoot shoot
I've been shot
and I take the blow
straight through my nose
making it hard to breathe
and impossible to sneeze.

good morning!
we've gotta get out fast
the snow isn't melting
my brain that's so swelling.
pressure release!
well, something.
1.4k · Sep 2012
intentions, misinterpreted
Pen Lux Sep 2012
they call me cat-liter, I'm their slave.
I'm embarrassed at sharp edges,
you've caught me all confused.
he said sleep, but translated space.
at least that's the way these feelings memorize.

depression, rage, stress,
broken threads, spandex,
cold sandwiches, free muffins that you missed:
I want to scream in your face
so that when I hold you I know
you're really crumbling.

I missed you like I missed myself.
my cleaning quickened so that I could see you.

maybe you needed some time spent,
in caffeinated tendencies,
to just blow off some steam.
Forget a few things,
for as long as you could until they
slam you back down again.
I'm not here to weigh you down,
I've got myself covered.

two of the same,
one in the same.
it's sometimes harder to communicate.
the release brings peace, my love.
I wish trust wasn't so hard to come by
in this shy blockage I've got all clogged up,
paranoid by my own actions,
thinking your freedom might repeat itself
in ways that will rip me free.

you're stuck to me like honey,
you're my islebee, make me freeze and see
what lies between and find that all love needs
is a breath
to catch amongst such harsh winds.
1.4k · Jan 2013
atmosphere of indulgence
Pen Lux Jan 2013
we are merely children
that continue growing.
loneliness is a struggle
but so is engulfment.
to plunge into commitment
with hopes for each day to rise with opportunity
and excitement, and for each day to prove more time wasted,
brings upon an emotional sickness known as heart ache.

a lover is to not just love,
but to follow and to lead.

however my love is wandering, lost.
trapped and wondering, is this love enough?

again my heart yearns for something else than what it's given,
yet is so afraid to remove the safety of what it already has to venture anew,
where a different kind of loneliness awaits.

feeling hopeless in a hopeful time
rendering gifts of promise useless
I admit I'm not pure, that I find moments where I'm not only the prey
but hunting, and the cycle of my torment is guided by my own self.
for lack of decisiveness, and abundance of indecision.
1.4k · Jan 2017
giving time
Pen Lux Jan 2017
holding on for better days
leaving the ones that left me dazed
thoughts that blurred
leave me amazed

always broken
patterns which remained
the same

my heart wont part
or gush or beat
connecting is all to do
it seems
Pen Lux Mar 2012
let's talk
take me home
I'll answer him now.
we meet again
such excitement would soon paralyze
my mind stretched outward yet
words escape me
in a perfect form.
one to another
feet to head
face to face
lip to lip
to neck
to teeth.

same beds
no plans
separate frames
magnetic glue
it's all about the ears, baby.

I didn't do it, wanted to, but didn't.
is it more flattering to be rude than to be polite and never do a thing?
kiss me, light the flame
you ignite me
excite me
entice me.
and remind me.

you and I have set sail.
1.4k · Jul 2010
My Lock
Pen Lux Jul 2010
The hole is so small,
I'm not sure your key would fit.
I guess we could try and jiggle it in,
I just hope your key doesn't break.

that would be horrible.
inspired by D
1.4k · Jan 2011
Pen Lux Jan 2011
religion is dead
but the taste of butterscotch still lingers in my mouth.

I know it's freezing outside.
that's why I want you to hold me so bad,
it doesn't matter if it's you, it could be anyone,
but I know you need it just as much as I do.

I want to read you something
a little more meaningful than
a grocery list, and I want you to
smile more, but I want nothing to do with it.

I'm more situational than you seem to notice,
and I like how we can sit quiet and listen to nothing,
but I'd much rather hear your voice through the
haze of tension that seems to follow us, rather than
watch you sit alone on a welcome mat for depression.

I love you is a funny way of saying I love you,
but none of us really know what it means until
we know what it means, and I know how bad it
hurts when we lose what it means, but I'm sure
we'll find it again. Even if we have to be patient,
and scream a little, and **** someone worthless.

For what it's worth or how much you care,
I want you to know that I care, even if it's
only enough to dodge questions and push
boundaries and cross some t's or some lines.

You give me cold feet and hot cheeks,
but in the friendliest of ways.
1.3k · Nov 2013
Pen Lux Nov 2013
I built for you
(another nightmare).

is your heart still broken?

I consider your names from time to time
and fall under in wonder,
if the syllables were just an uttering-reach
for your attention,
or if they were failed attempts at catching
amusements-daze for your entertainment.
my sound waves wanted to cradle your letters,
to give you the alphabet in symphonies
harmonious with my admiration for you
and all I thought you stood for.

you flipped me on my stomach,
face down
trying to muffle the sound of my love,
what pain!
trying to force me not to love so loud.
I felt less than proud to
pull you out and leave you empty,
wishing, for once, not to be so untouched.

your passion for passing opportunities
to prove yourself worth the patience
was the only thing you held onto
when I opened my arms.
your touch no longer comfort,
more infectious and breathtaking
in a wind knocking your lungs down into your guts sort of way,
with all your broken promises jutting into my rib cage,
shredding the butterfly wings that used to arise that love-sick shutter
until I'm sick of love and left with blinds
that leave me to mutter about the darkness.

you were a creature of great wonder in the lack of light,
the shadows painting angels wings
sprouting from the backside of your heart
shooting through your spine,
your halo shining so bright that I lost my concentration,
I took a second look and lost my path
in a concentrated dose of your praise,
witnessed the sin seeping through your skin
as you sweat and soon there was nothing left
but the sound of your breath and the words
and the words and the words and the sickness
came creeping in like a crash.

your wings melt in the daylight
your teeth rot in your cheeks
halo crooked and eyes clamped tight
you sleep because you're too weak to speak
to another human being face to face
and from your face sprouted flowers made of meat
but the bees stung me when it was time to eat.

guilty by association.
guilty of procreation tendencies with absolutely no intention
of creating anything but distance from the wreckage.
broken hearts are broken bones
are breaking our breaking
we've broken apart and my heart
it has been shielded, restored into a beating,
living, loving organism.

for someone who wanted so badly to play the part of jesus,
you sure didn't pray enough, laugh enough or heal enough.
you didn't even try.

you were a wreck that I couldn't withstand,
a self-imposed torture,
because the thrill of losing everything
was too intoxicating to escape.

you were a right handed lover
and a left hand driver
with a ******* and not much else to say
with all that anger in your heart,
with all that hatred in your bones,
you will tear at your flesh to dig deeper
to try and understand something that's already been explained,
as all who once loved you will watch you rot away.

silver tongue city slicker
stay at home in your cabinet
don't come calling or knocking
it's too shocking: I'm thankful.

most positively,
I am free,
because without the wreck
there wouldn't have been anything to feel at all.
1.3k · Jun 2010
Pen Lux Jun 2010
If you're going to touch me,
do it slowly.
Your body is what caught me,
and that candy coated kiss.

Our teeth were like cages for words,
and the windshield wipers
killed the static on the radio.

We walked fast in the dark,
afraid someone would **** us.
You disappeared like the whispers
collected in my hand.
When the sound slowly seeped through my fingers,
I realized you were the milk in my bones,
and that death is better if you can't see it.

I just wish I could force you to feel what I do.

It's like we're allergic to ***,
and addicted to *******.
1.3k · Aug 2010
Pen Lux Aug 2010
I've been feeling like I'm home alone,
but there are these projections of memories
that are haunting me like ghosts.

It hurts to know that someone might love you,
but there's nothing you can do to make them admit it,
and while you wait you grow more and more apathetic.

I'm not trying to tell the future,
but there's always room for me to try and read your mind,
even if you're afraid to understand how you feel.

If I kept screaming in your face you might listen,
but there are too many things I need to translate for you,
and I'm tired of being somewhere that no one wants me.
1.3k · Jun 2013
illusion vs. illusion
Pen Lux Jun 2013
often misunderstood
because I'm running.
no more keeping up
with myself.
fevered flowers:
the scent is toxic,
moist petals are
slowly drying as you stare.

love confessions, it's
intelligent not to touch
those thoughts.
my skin screams,
resistance is useless when
a mind is set.
let's enjoy listening to
the wind dancing with water.
abrasive weather
whichever way you stretch.

calm bleeding
only the eyes are shocked.
ultimatums of
healthy habits
only make the sickness creep
harder to keep
back from the surface.
sharp neglect    
there's a lot of goodness here.

cornered commitment
maybe all these tricks aren't magic.
ill tricks in disguise
all encountered is an illusion.
take time
see what pleases and let all else fade
or pass through the transparent torture
that is easily forgotten.

sweet spins
strong arms encase a shattered weakness.
strong sense
for breaking shells built based on fear.
some sanity
in telling the truth boils into insanity.
sane souls
just want crushing cement for breakfast.
smashed spine
twisted into fine petals which cracked.
slowly sweetly
the wind poured down upon the fire.
sweat soured
each hand that reached for another.
screaming search
eye to eye to soul to heart to ache to no.

frightened frustrations
confusion will keep the puppets hanging in waiting.
suspended in space, it's not a race.
a test in patience which will soon be aced.
Pen Lux Apr 2011
I whistle when I blow on my tea
and drink cofee when I can't go to sleep.

I call and leave you messages:
that make me feel like I'm trying too hard,
(or not enough, or like I don't know how,
because I'm not sure what I want)
because I forget what I want to say
when I think about:

your smile
(what makes you smile?)

your blue eyes
(I'm so sick of hiding behind mine,
and I'm ready to see my reflection
and your reflection, in the same frame.
In nothing,[we say nothing], because it means nothing:
unless we want it to.)

your shaking hands
("I know I can do this."
"I know you can do this.")

your silence
(both bathing, both nervous,
both nothing. Because I can't speak for you.
I have trouble speaking to you.)

how's this [?] for,
I'm here.
I don't understand, but I want to.
I'm sorry.

- - - - - - - - - - - -
I haven't been myself for a long time,
I'm changing
my feelings are

you've been in my dreams for longer than I'd like to admit
[I would if you asked me].
I'm ready to spill some secrets of my own
[because secrets have never been my strong point,
but honesty has, and that's what you deserve].

- - - - - - -
across the table conversation:
"it doesn't matter how many people read your poetry..."
                     "as long as it's written."

the question game: the life game: the experience: the answers.

after thoughts:
'but does it matter if the person you wrote it for
1.3k · Nov 2014
toss the pasta
Pen Lux Nov 2014
would you take me with you?
before the snow comes
and my schedule freezes
because college will be over
and my days will start to mold
again like they always were
when drunk kisses at the
bar were better than a
lovers because passion
was always absent
can't help but wonder, why is that?
the past is gone and nowhere
near good or rather closer
to evil and shedding
layers like seasons
breaking even into
new embraces that leave
traces in aches in the places
where skin was on skin was on
skin just get in and begin to make
the future look positive when imagining
your blue eyes trapping my insides
twisting and wishing that you'd only
twist more gather into me gather
my hair into your fists oh how
I wish that this mist wouldn't
clear for a year maybe two
what to do? I am blue
and you are green or white
perhaps dark or perhaps light
I really can't be quite sure
you're a blur
my hearts a plane
crashing into the side of your mountain
mesh with my molding
don't stop holding me
folding me into position
I like a man with a mission
maybe it's the wrong lake that I'm fishing
because there are plenty of fish in the sea
those fish are too big and not as tasty
to fry, tough guy, big guy, just
say hi and stay high with me
one two three don't **** with me
I just want to sing melodies
keep living my fantasies
walking together with
you through the night
grabbing hands it's
alright and I just
might not let go
so quickly this
time because
the warmth that I'm feeling
is that of a heathen and
your advances are chances
at passionate romances
you're a magician
I'm an enchantress
1.3k · Nov 2010
Laugh Lines
Pen Lux Nov 2010
I need daylight to be over
so that the octupus leaves in my back yard can breathe
all the dogs left them swelling and burning for daily bread,
daily milk, and last calls to board the plane.
It's really **** hard to understand what the person on the intercom is saying when you've got stalks of corn growing out of your ears
imitating how rough and useless everything that comes in is
how it's just sprouting out and some people are going to get hit in the face if they don't realize that personal bubbles are more important than an inhaler, at least at this point.

The ball in my mouse has fallen out and now I can't seem to get anywhere, drinking bottles of cough syrup to try and feel the sickening sweetness of your kiss, when all you really wanted was to be someone else. The lion painted on my shirt tells me I'm wrong for paying attention to the little things, like the color of your sweater and if you made it or not.

I feel like I'm following a snow storm in a bathing suit,
which makes it awkward during interviews but my mom tells me I need to get a job and start thinking for myself and thinking about others because I only have one brother and he might **** himself soon.

Teachers don't seem to realize that my answers sound like my mouths full of peanut butter and they don't know that when I turned 9 I used to smear it on my skin and let my dog lick it off. I hope that doesn't ******* off as boring or twisted, but I've got enough cough syrup to know that my lungs will stay inside my body, even if they're all chewed up digesting in my stomach with the rest of the things I said that I wish I could take back, with the rest of the tongues that fumbled and mumbled phrases that made me look like a tobacco spitting uncle from Tennesse.

it's not that I don't want to see you anymore,
or that I want you to grow up and be something more,
but I'm not the same person I was before,
I'm starting to lose myself and I feel it seeping from the very core.

It's like a black hole or a star that burnt out,
it's scary and not as beautiful as it was when I was a kid.
People are getting better looking, growing into themselves like marijuana plants.
These women have vertigo and not enough time to walk where they need to be, so they asked me to go to the store and they paid me with dinner, I sat at the table in a rocking chair and wondered why they had so much hair on the floor.
it wasn't like we were having a bad time
but we sure didn't know how we got to talking about ******* and cranberry juice.
All the while I felt like saying something meaningful,
but I knew they wouldn't get my jokes and I knew that my sarcastic tendancies would get the best of me and we'd be in a grinder full of bugs and rocks and all of those things we avoid when we're afraid.

I could feel my teeth wanting to break as I chewed my food
and clenched my jaw at the conversation.
The woman to my left said I looked like someone she knew,
I said,
"You do know me."

the words came out like a siren of warning,
I had gone too far.

I looked at my hand that held their fancy spoon
my reflection stared back like it didn't know me
and I could see my eyes turn away and I could see my hand on the door ****
but what I couldn't see was the woman,
who followed me home.
the woman,
the one that knows me best.
1.3k · Jan 2011
Pen Lux Jan 2011
She talks like she knows a leprechaun
that blows bubbles
and cuts his toe nails in the cheese
whenever you leave the
refrigerator closed long enough.

He talks like he wants to know what she's thinking
but the sounds that come out are from a bad relationship
that she's over and he tries to paint it in the air
but the trails are more like explosions and
his hair is too clean for it to be his.

She looks like wet pictures on the roof
held by at least four inches of melting snow
that she can't touch with her bare skin
because she knows how easily things can change.

He looks like he wants to kiss her
but he knows it will ruin her lip stick.
1.3k · Jul 2013
centering the self
Pen Lux Jul 2013
The yearning to dissolve
is sending subtle attempts at destruction of self.

Yes, I continue to struggle with the same subject.
Pulling at the edges of what I thought I wanted
so hard that I cause a rift in my desires, finding
that there's nothing I want or need in this life.

Simply fleeting are all the things that happen to me,
all the things I do to others, and whatever it is that
will be the end of us.

it's the end of me.
right here.
last night.
this morning.
one year ago
a love killed
everything I was.

an escape.
escape from me, I'm toxic
and I'm bleeding
and I'm going to drink that blood.

I made a promise not to hurt myself...

nothing more or less
I am what I am, but the more I feel,
the more I feel like I'm less.

wanting EVERYTHING all at once,
not caring this time, I'm going to scribble,
it's more beautiful than not being understood at all.

I'll scribble and let you think what you want
as I taunt myself with the truth of things so
painfully that I feel like it has to be a lie.


here I am spilling my guts
my insides
my self
all by myself I am tortured with lovers
from all angles
some call me an angel
yet all I want is black
and the darkness within me is screaming
telling me I'm not doing what's right for my soul
yet all I want is black
and the darkness within me knows
telling me I'm doing my best for the ones that surround me.

I keep wanting to remove myself from this life I'm living.
too painful to look in the eye, I just stare at myself as if I am someone else.
knowing that I am who I am and that each time I meet someone
I am NEW, a creature they have never seen before and to them I am NEW
and FRESH and beautiful
tortured? you?! ME? NO, they could not believe it.

I am a thinker, I am loved
I am special in their eyes
a gem or a diamond, a reflection of my insides is what I hide behind
perhaps never to find what it is that others see in me.

depression is something I can handle,
oddly enough it's something I can't schedule,
it's not something I can comprehend, it's simply something I live with.

I hold it in strange faces,
you know the ones that are so often played with,
fake smiles.
except you make me smile!
it's not fake,
it's just easy to dismiss the sadness when in your presence.


I don't want to have to be around others for happiness.
I don't need to be.
I haven't learned how not to be as well as I'd like to have learned by now.
I ought to have learned by now.
I'm making progress.

I cannot afford to attach myself completely,
because as soon as I detach then there will
surely be not enough left to be complete alone.
Barely now, I can stand on two legs without
some sort of destructive quality in my heart.
Barely now, do I remember how to love.

Do I remember how to love?
or accept it?

I cannot accept it
unless I do not realize it.

I do not realize what or who I am
and I wish to find without search.

yes, I am thinking.
thinking too much?
if that's what you say then I agree.
not thinking enough?
I agree as well.

it's all about what you think about that determines
the amount of "too much" and "not enough".

don't give me grief because my focus is not yours.
don't give me attention.
I'm a child, crying out for attention.
if you give me what I want,
all I'll want is more.
1.3k · Aug 2012
Pen Lux Aug 2012
a shortness of breath,
a stiff clinging to comfort.
hardwood floor, (hiding).
stress is combining,
and it's frightening
(I wake up crying).

full, and
sick you
and shift.
forget the debt that crept in neglect.

some things are too obvious to say,
or you think them so much they begin to feel like you've already said them.
1.3k · Dec 2010
Pen Lux Dec 2010
I'll try and keep myself warm,
Because sometimes we need to be alone,
No matter how much we don't want to be.
Pen Lux Oct 2010
She was the only one I trusted enough to let hold my hand,
hers wasn't as soft as mine, but I liked how long her nails were,
and the color of her nail polish, which I can't remember,
it's always changing anyway.
I hated it when she cried, but I loved it too.
The way her lips would almost curl up,
teasing you with the taste of her beautiful smile.
Her tears made her eyes flash from light to dark so fast that they would glow.
Her eye's a rich, dark chocolate, would melt into a moist gold and I
swear you could see the universe unfold in them.

She is the light that casts my shadow,
and the darkness that blends it into nothing.
Stripping my soul from bones and flesh.
I bend into her as she makes room by removing time and replacing the space between sight and sound.
The warmth in her red-stained lips, long socks, and tight skirts,
force me to smile as I walk alone, knowing that I'm the other half of
Her colors make me scream a thousand times, until my throat gets
clogged with her contrast
and the inner-lining candy-coated things I
want to say dissolve with a down pour of tears
from the phrases that she pukes into my mouth for me to swallow,
and digest.  
Like a mother bird to it's baby.
She's often like a mother, the way she holds me,
the way she pushes me out of the nest
knowing I'm afraid of heights,
knowing that I'll fly anyway,
knowing I'm terrified of myself.

Trust is hard to come by alone in my room,
imagine my surprise in the amount that she would wrap me in,
imagine my surprise when she held me:
and wouldn't let go.

She fell in love and we visited his home together.
His bachelor apartment revealed his artistic interests
and his tendency toward a monkish life.
It made me tired, and hungry.
She slept beside me that night,
barely understanding what he was thinking through the walls.
I imagined her trying to feel his arms around her,
instead of the humid air and scratchy sheets.

I wished that my hair had less dirt
and that I could be the one whose
thoughts were blocked by concrete and wood,
and not a swollen tongue.

It's been a long time since then.
I give my cat milk instead of water,
I sleep with blue blankets instead of skin
and I keep my pajamas on.

My phone calls are lot dirtier than I'd like them to be,
and my heartbeat can't reach farther than my vision.
Now she cries for reasons I'll never know,
and I hate it.
It scares me that I can't dry them with my back turned,
and that she lives too close for letters.
I can only hope  that she'll stay long enough to be my winter skin,
and so that I can be hers,
because I know without each other we'll both freeze to death.

My heart needs you,
and my soul needs you,
like a stomach needs food,
or a suicidal man needs morphine,
or a child needs a friend,
or lips need the burn of a yes
or the freeze of a no:
I need you.

I only say that because I love you more than I love myself,
and that's saying something.
This is for Kali.
1.3k · Sep 2010
Acting Again
Pen Lux Sep 2010
enough alcohol and you'll be puking out your heart
and soul in words that shine like diamonds,
and no matter how hard you try,
you wont be able to stand up straight,
and it's really ******* hard to put your shoes on without someones
hand to hold, and if you don't have your shoes,
how are you supposed to go shopping?
or walk on sharp rocks? or stand on hot pavement?
You can't.

you're gorgeous,
too gorgeous for words,
and yet your words
magnify that beauty
by a million.
1.2k · Mar 2012
Pen Lux Mar 2012
reflection time
and there aren't any clean cups.

welcome back my friends!
with broken gates
my mouth's agape
                                 and shut.
because I only left when you did
and then some how some of us came back

We're making eye contact and I feel
            so raw
                       want to crawl back towards the jar,
take a gulp, ten more. hmmm, what is this? (not water)
let me slump, let me jump, let me shake, let me do what I do.
your accurate occupancy  is full to the brim,
take a sip before you flip like a fish out of water,
we're opposites in the like and the like get's us goodness.

today has no bounds.
Pen Lux Dec 2012
They scheme in the shadows of who they might hope to be.
Studying their weaknesses and teaching themselves how to live in solitude.
No one to worry about except for the self.
There's no weight to bare apart from ones own guilt.

Stay in the shadows,
For the light will only burn your eyes.
1.2k · Jan 2015
[[elk trick]]
Pen Lux Jan 2015
the mirror has gone black
sinking back into the wastelands
of my ever heightened fright

all love has gone liquid
dripping and spilling in my sight
my hands soaked, grasping at the droplets
thoughts of you slipping through my fingertips

no longer equipped to "just deal with it"

happiness waits beyond bridges
through your gates and over your walls
pit falls, into quicksand and lava, where you live

madness // madness, this bliss // madness...

apathetic sanctuary // my mortuary

sing at my next funeral, I've a few more left to go
you're electric, magnetic, pathetic

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