Life isn’t fair, they tell me,
it’s not always cut and dry.

You can’t always get what you want,
but that just leaves me asking why?

Ignorance is bliss, supposedly,
some days I wish I’d never met you.

Anything is possible, they say,
doesn’t that apply to us too?

Money can’t buy happiness,
but it can buy a plane ticket.

Everything happens for a reason,
well that reason can go stick it.

A closed door is a window opened
but what if the door was never there?

They tell you to *follow your heart,
My heart’s with you; it’s not going anywhere.

”Just a little closer.”
Shifting in my spot
brings me nearer to the lens
but you’re still miles away from me.

“Smile just a little.”
Can’t I smile a lot?
It’s hard to keep from grinning
when you stare like that at me.

“Perfect.”
You clearly mean your shot,
but I can’t help the futile hope,
that maybe you mean just me.

Bijou, bijou,
sparkling soft,
you tiny jewel,
you.

Bijou, bijou,
twinkling light
beautifies all
anew.

Bijou, bijou,
graceful charm
bestows an elegant
hue.

Bijou, bijou,
covet of many,
possession of
few.

Bijou, bijou,
a drop on a leaf
in the morning light,
dew.

On one side there’s fear.
Fear that I’ll die alone
fear that I’ll fall
fear that I’ll fail.
On one side there’s hurt.
Hurt that I’m forgotten.
Hurt that you’re not.
Hurt that I’m ignored.
On one side there’s joy.
Joy at some praises.
Joy at kind words.
Joy I can’t enjoy.
On one side there’s frustration.
Frustration I can’t articulate.
Frustration I can’t fix.
Frustration I can’t escape.
And I’m all boxed in.

Carpe diem,
seize the day,
the saying goes;
Don’t let it waste away.

The sun spreads life,
it gives its light,
lets it dance in day,
but not at night.

The day is warm,
energetic and bright;
people love the day,
but shun the night.

The night with its cool, gliding glory,
The night with its mysterious way.
The night holds just as much beauty,
but remains overshadowed by the day.

Embrace the dark,
acknowledge the night,
step away from comfort,
turn from the light.

Come out and face your fears,
see what lies in the inky black,
go out under the moonlit sky,
go so far you can’t come back.

Carpe noctem, I say.
Seize the night, not the day.

I’m not upset.
I’m not.
I’m not disappointed,
I’m not.
I’m not sad.
I’m not.
What I am
is scared.
Conflicted.
And left wishing
that I still had
the one person
who would know
what to do
who would be there
by my side
through all of this.
I don’t care.
I don’t.
I just need to
talk to you.
I need you here.

Define perfect.
Is it a pretty face, nice hair?
Is it thin as a rod, or ripped with muscles?
Is it smart, witty and brilliant?
Is it funny and personable?
Is it friendly and kind?
Is it honest and true?
Is it in the way you walk, the way you talk?
Is it in your nature, in your core?
Is it inherent or attainable?
Is it even real, or just an illusion?

If every mile between us was a year,
we would be millennia apart.
If every lonely breath was a dying star,
the night sky would be black as ink.
If every tear was a page in a book,
between us, we could fill volumes.

If every bit of longing was a rubber band,
my heart would explode from pressure.
If every moment alone was a color lost,
my world would soon go dark.
If every day without you was a heap of gold,
I would sacrifice it in a heartbeat.

If only were together again,
the distance would close,
the sun would return,
the pages would burn.

If only I could see you again,
my heart would ease,
I’d regain my sight,
I would be alright.

Outside the window
a woman is
     beaten upon
          spit upon
a black man is
      unfairly judged
          unfairly punished
a gay man is
       hated at
          jeered at
but none of it can touch me
if I just
       draw the blinds
          close the curtains
shut it out.

I hate emotion.
It’s poison,
it’s weakness,
it’s pain.
I hate feeling.
it’s destruction,
it’s obliteration,
it’s damaging.
I hate sentiment.
It’s vulnerability,
it’s tears,
it’s pathetic.
But I can’t keep them away.
I love stoicism.
It’s strength,
it’s armor,
it’s walls.
I love privacy.
It’s respect,
it’s secure,
it’s safe.
I love silence.
It’s clear,
it’s impenetrable,
it’s threatening.
But I can’t keep them up.

All I do is give my life,
I let it flow at your will.

All I do is shed my soul,
with no hope of refill.

I’ve rested so long
in the palm of your hand.

Moving where you want,
making people understand.

Each day I’m the first
to hear each thought.

To take your notes,
doodle and whatnot.

Every movement I make,
is by your command.

If ever I failed you,
that I couldn’t stand.

But one day it happens,
my soul runs dry.

My life force is gone,
and you wonder why.

You pushed me too far,
used me too much.

And now you’re off
to find a new crutch.

You toss me away,
your faithful companion.

Into the wastebasket I go,
with hopeless abandon.

I was there for you always,
no matter where or when.

I was always in your pocket,
Now I’m just an empty pen.

How thin is thin enough?
When you’re too weak to move.

How pretty is pretty enough?
What have you to prove?

How deep is deep enough?
When the cuts can’t hide the pain.

How long is long enough?
When joy goes down the drain.

How strong is strong enough?
To stand up to the hurt inside.

How wrong is wrong enough?
To give up your foolish pride.

How close is close enough?
To being almost real.

How far is far enough?
That you don’t have to feel.

How bad is bad enough?
That you can finally say goodbye.

How much is quite enough?
That you no longer care to try.

The way you are, here and now,
is more than thin enough.

To believe less, I wouldn’t allow-
you’re more than pretty enough.

Stop the cuts, stop the tears,
they’re quite enough the way they are.

Just remember the people here,
By your side, never far.

Don’t run away, don’t hide your face,
it won’t do you any good.

Face your fears, let us in,
for next to you we’ve always stood.

When the leaves won’t fall
and the grass won’t grow,
Where are you?
The seasons won’t change,
the snow won’t come,
Are you thinking of me too?

The stars stay out,
the sun won’t shine-
You’re not there.
The birds don’t chirp,
the breeze won’t blow-
Do you care?

And if you’re not here,
what to do?
Life is cold without you.
Time seems to freeze
in waiting for you;
The sobbing streams miss you too.

The stars fall,
the moon fades,
Black goes the night.
It’s too much to move,
too much to try,
Too much to fight.

But then there’s a ray,
a hopeful light
to scare away the black.
You’re here now,
if just for a while.
Against it all, you’ve come back.

Fall skips to spring,
the birds rejoice
Though I know it cannot last.
For soon you’ll be gone
and fall will return
To push this to the past.

The leaves won’t fall,
the grass won’t grow,
Holding still the chance,
That you’ll come again
to give them life,
and perhaps give me a glance.

”Tell me about love.”
I can define it,
I can recommend books,
I can list the symptoms and effects,
I can prattle off agape, philios, storge and eros.
I can recite a poem, or a sonnet by Shakespeare,
but
I
can’t
describe
it.

“Tell me about loss.”
I can see it,
I can observe it,
I can sympathize with it,
I can parrot motivational phrases,
I can list coping mechanisms and techniques,
but
I
can’t
mean
it.

“Tell me about life.”
I live it,
I know of it,
I can speak of its origins,
I can tell stories of its endings,
I can watch it go by, try to find meaning in it,
but
I
can’t
embrace
it.

If life is an experiment,
where are the variables?
Are they evident?

People come and people go,
places change, people age,
And you adapt as you grow.

Feelings vary through the years,
there’s love, there’s loss,
there’s joy, and tears.

The conditions change, from time to time,
Different settings, journeys new,
no set paradigm.

And the subjects shift,
in the focus of life,
some a curse, some a gift.

Some say happiness comes from within,
but I name it the dependent variable,
changing to reflect life’s every whim.

But there’s one thing I seem to miss:
If life’s an experiment,
where’s the constant in all of this?

Is the constant life, breathing, living?

Is the constant you, existing, here?
Is the constant love, growing, giving?

Is the constant intangible?
Is it time, or place?
What is the unchanging variable?

What does humanity all somehow share?
What connects us to each other,
and throughout our lives is always there?

Disappear
  Into the night

Fade
  Into the day

Slip
  Away from the bright

Turn
  Towards the fray

  To feelings inherent
Turn

  Away from the core
Slip

  Become transparent
Fade

  Exist no more
Disappear

That fake smile can't disguise
the pain I feel inside.

I used to dream about flying.
I’d reach the stars
I’d circle the sun.
I’d overcome gravity,
I’d finally be free.
Now, I’m too afraid of falling.
I’m scared I’ll crash,
I’m terrified to fail.
I’m afraid of regret,
I’m petrified to jump.
And so I stay on the ground.
I hide my feelings,
I conceal my fears.
I disguise my doubts,
I play at satisfaction.
And everyone believes.

I know you'll always be,
you'll always
always
be

gone.

This is the last time I’ll see you,
the last chance to tell
just what it is about you,
that’s captured me so well.

I came so close to saying,
I came so close, you know.
How I wish you were staying,
but perhaps it’s best you go.

Maybe I’ll move on now,
now that you are gone.
I’d say I’ll forget somehow,
but we both know I’d be wrong.

They say first love never dies,
how am I to know?
Love- a word that never applies,
emotions that never show.

I said I don’t believe in love,
it’s simply not for me.
But then push came to shove,
and suddenly I could see.

You’re the perfect one for me,
but, alas, I’ve let you go.
To point out the things that we could be
is the lowest of the low.

Love is still shrouded in doubt,
at least for me, for now.
But so close to learning what it’s about,
you slipped away somehow.

This is goodbye, I’m moving on,
I hope you’ll understand.
I’d like to think that with you gone,
I’ll return from this dreamland.

This is goodbye, this is farewell,
it’s been fun indeed.
I hope you’ll return with stories to tell,
Something tells me you’ll succeed.

Head or heart?
The question of the day.
Stop or start?
They pull a different way.
Head avoids pain,
Takes the safe route.
Heart feels the strain,
It ignores all the doubt.
But in the indecision,
the moment disappears.
Leaving you in division,
Broken heart spilling tears.

“I can fix that”
Glares out from the glowing screen
As if your lack of a relationship is a problem.
It’s because of people like you
That I’d rather be alone.

“I can fix that”
As if you’re an object
Broken and in need of repair.
There’s nothing wrong with me;
I’ll repeat it ’till it’s true.

“I can fix that”
And you start to think,
Maybe they’re right?
Maybe there is something wrong,
Maybe I should give it a try.

“I can fix that”
Drills and bores into your brain,
How nice being normal would be.
But I can’t be fixed; not by you,
Not by anyone.

“I can fix that.”
That leering smile etched into your mind,
As you shy away from the touch.
Can’t you understand me?
I. Don’t. Want. Y.ou.

“I can fix that.”
You want to scream; you’re not project,
Not an object, not broken.
*Or at least I wasn’t broken,
Until I met you.

If only
I had met you
some other place,
some other time.
If only
I had told you
what I felt
deep inside.
If only
I could stay with you
for one more day,
one more night.
If only
If only
things were different
I’d be alright.

I just want someone to care for me.
I just want someone to care for.
I just want someone to care.
I just want someone.
I just want...
I just...
I...

I wish I could take the pain away.
I wish I could shoulder your burden,
your heartbreak,
your tears.
I wish I could protect you with my cold heart,
my emotionless void,
my stoic mind.
I wish I could take away your pain,
your sorrow,
your longing.
I want to help you to recover
to let go
to rebuild.
I want to tell you that you’ll be fine,
you’ll move on,
you’ll be happy again.
I want you to know I’m sincere,
I’m honest,
I’m hopeful.

But I can’t.

I’ve never been in your shoes;
I can’t imagine how it feels to lose
your world,
your heart,
your everything.

I’ve never felt this way;
I can’t understand what it means when you say
you loved her,
you need her,
you’d marry her.

I’ve never been rejected;
I can’t comprehend how it affected
your life,
your mind,
your future.

I can’t sympathize;
I’ve never been there.
But I can be there now,
for you.
I will stay by your side,
let you cry.
I will stay up all night,
let you talk.
And I will stay with you,
let you heal.

I may not understand, but I’ll be there.
I’ll always be there.

Imagine a world
no different than our own
except that
everything was sexualized.
Where women were criticized,
for how they dress
Where women were blamed
for the crimes of men.
Where men were pressured
to be what they’re not,
Where men were demeaned
for respecting women.
Imagine a world
no different than our own
except that
everything was divided.
Where whites fought with blacks,
over basic rights,
Where democrats fought with republicans
for not seeing eye-to-eye,
Where women fought with men,
for equality they deserve,
Where countries fought with countries,
for greed, power, and prestige.
Imagine a world
no different than our own
except that
life was fleeting.
Where people only lived
for limited years,
Where time was squandered
on things that don’t matter.
Where people were consumed
by greed, power, and prestige,
Where life was controlled
by the quest for more.

Imagine a world
no different than our own.

To be good,
to be caring,
to be kind,
to be loving -

I try.

To be gentle,
to be sympathetic,
to be humble,
to be energetic-

I try.

To be smart,
to be helpful,
to be present,
to be hopeful-

I try.

To be fun,
to respect,
to be happy,
to be perfect-

I try.


I try.


*I fail.

Oh how the lies spring sweetly to my lips,
and the falsehoods fly from my fingertips.
Oh how easily I hide behind a screen,
and know that my tears can’t be seen.
Oh, how the words just fall into line,
as I lie, “Don’t worry, it’s fine.”

I used to be able to write poems.

I could make them rhyme,
make them happy,
make them sad.
I could make them flow,
make them float,
make them feel.

I could put into words
everything I felt,
everything I knew.
I could pour my heart out
onto the paper,
onto the screen.

But then something changed.

I lost the spark that I had,
that inspiration,
that drive.
I lost the thing that kept me going,
that encouraged me,
that pushed me on.

I lost the one who made me laugh
when I was tired,
when I wanted to quit.
I lost the one who told me to write
when I was out of ideas
when I was frustrated.

I lost the one who made writing worthwhile.

I lost you.

I used to be able to write poems;
Now, I just feel them.

I wish I never met you.
If only it were so simple;
To wish away the tears I cried,
The pain that came
From missing you.

I wish I never met you.
It doomed from the start;
The reasons piled on and on,
But the final straw still
Cut like wire.

I wish I never met you.
You forced open my eyes;
Made me see that I’m broken
And soon everything else
Will follow suit.

There are so many letters I never sent,
Stuffed in their decaying envelopes,
Words etched onto the paper
Like drops of blood
Thinned by tears.

There are so many things I never said,
Words that dried up on my tongue
Like a flower shriveling,
Crumbling away
Til nothing’s left.

There are so many thoughts I never shared,
Each one circling round my head,
Begging to be the first domino
In a cause and effect
That’d change my life.

There are so many things I never did,
Actions aborted by my cowardice,
Little things I wanted so bad-
Your head on my shoulder,
Your hand in mine.

There are so many letters I never sent,
That leave me wondering, wishing,
But in the end, it’s safer this way-
Wondering, wishing,
But not knowing.

I used to think love was a weakness.
It was a devastating curse
Which infected everyone I knew,
And turned them pining, sad,
Vulnerable.

And then I thought it was fate.
It was an inevitable trial,
That some could survive,
Some could fight,
But few would win.

For a time, love was strength.
It was the source of energy,
The breeze in the heat,
Or the charm of the night,
Something beautiful.

But then, love turned bitter.
It was laced with hatred,
Pierced by jealousy
And cries of the heart,  
Poisoned tears.

But now I see that love is torture.
It’s the weakness that saps strength,
The fate that you can’t escape,
The bitter pain tainting the words,
“I love you.”

And the worst part is, despite it all,
That I do.

I can’t do this.
I can’t give advice
about things I don’t know.
I can’t rip out my heart
and be told to let it go.
I can’t take your whines
about your feelings and ****.
I can’t take your disregard
when it’s I who takes a hit.
I can’t take your confusion
if I don’t want the clarity.
I can’t take the details
about each and every disparity.
I can’t take it to talk
when you won’t listen in return.
I can’t take it to save you
when you’d let me burn.

It is odd to write about writing,
the words sometimes write themselves.
It’s like a poem about poetry,
about the troubles and frustrating spells.

It’s odd to think about thinking,
it’ll make your eyes go crossed.
It’s odd to talk about talking,
for soon you’re completely lost.

Though why you’d want to write about writing,
I’m not entirely sure.
Or why you’d make a poem about poetry,
It seems a bit of a bore.

And why would you think about thinking?
If not to make your head pound.
Or why would you talk about talking?
Surely there are better things around.

And yet it seems I’ve done just that:
I’ve written a poem about writing a poem,
all about poetry.
I’ve written a thing about writing a thing,
all about writing, you see.

As I said before, it’s odd to do,
and even stranger to behold.
Well, what can I say, I’m odd as well,
and, yes, God broke the mold.

Please don’t say you love me
Because if you do
That would change
E v e r y t h i n g

Please don’t stay you love me
Because if you do
You wouldn’t have
A n y t h i n g

Please don’t say you love me
Because if you do
You would lose
E v e r y t h i n g

Please don’t say you love me
Because if you do
I wouldn’t say
A n y t h i n g

Please don’t say you love me
Because even if you do
I don’t love
Y o u.

If you were reading this right now,
what would you think?
Would you turn away or somehow
know just how I feel?

These regrets will plague me,
forever and ever.
They’ll haunt me and stalk me
with things that might have been.
The plague of regret,
of foolish decisions
Is terrible to behold.

Haunting you, stalking you,
bending you, breaking you,
forcing you to fold.

Forcing you to surrender
to doubt and wonder
about what could have been.

Plaguing your thoughts,
twisting your mind,
forcing you to give in.

The past wasn’t good enough,
the present won’t be either,
not with regret on your heels.

Every day is a question,
what might have happened-
could you have changed how he feels?

If you had told him,
right then and there,
would you be here today?

The opportunities were present,
but the words wouldn’t come,
Why couldn’t you say?

It was so obvious to you,
maybe not to the others,
the way you felt about him.

But your chance is gone,
and so is he,
will you ever forget him?

The regret of those times,
when you kept your mouth shut,
will haunt you for many years.

It will always be there,
lingering, asking,
What if you’d conquered your fears?

It seems we’ll never know,
we can never be sure,
how it might have turned out.

One thing is certain,
you’ll have to endure,
and learn to live with the doubt.

I shouldn’t be mad
that they didn’t invite me.
They’re allowed to do things without me.

I shouldn’t be hurt
that they’re talking right over me.
They’re allowed to have conversations around me.

I shouldn’t feel bad
that they aren’t including me.
They’re allowed to not want me.

She seems nice.
If you’re into one word responses,
and silent, bored stares.

She seems nice.
If you’re into lackluster smiles
and unenthusiastic vibes.

She seems nice.
If you’re into rants and complaints,
and acerbic comments.

She seems nice.
If you’re into rolled eyes,
and, “You’re not funny,” replies.

She seems nice.
If you’re into judgmental glances,
and not taking chances.

She seems nice.
If you’re into insecure hand holding,
and constant reinforcement.

She seems nice.
If you’re into that.

Sometimes I try to remind myself
that all good things
must end.
Sometimes I try to persuade myself
that I’ll never lose
the memories.
Sometimes I try to tell myself
that all I need is
to move on.
Sometimes I try to force myself
to forget how happy
I was then.

Sometimes I try to convince myself
that I’ll meet another
like you.

I wonder why it never seems to work.

The clock calls
       and the water falls,
                 spilling to the floor.

The bell rings
       and the kettle sings,
                as you’ve been waiting for.

The timer ticks
       and the candle wicks,
                      oil to the flame

The dogs sit
       and the birds flit,
                  as they play their game.

The children whine
       and the wind chimes,
                  a twinkle and a laugh.

The cats purr
       and the fans whirr,
                  sparking up a draft.

The day passes,
       through fogged glasses,
                  of the watching wife.

The daily routine
       and the normal scene -
                the song and sound of life.

Incite that spark, that new fire in me.
Build that flame, let it burn right through me.
Open the gates, let the words pour from me.
Pierce my heart, let me emotions leave me.
Write those words, the feelings in me,
Close my eyes, let it consume me.
Feel those sounds, spoken by me.
Hear those words, flowing from me.
Understand this poem, this piece of me,
Understand this poem, and you understand me.

When I look up at the stars, I see you.
And it hurts.
They seem so far away,
Thousands of light years,
Millions of miles.
Untouchable.
They shine so bright,
Perfect and golden,
Burning and eternal.
Beautiful.
But only from a distance-
How are they up close?
Fading and falling?
Imperfect?
I can’t tell what I love;
Whether I love them
Or their glow from afar.
Removed.
When I look up at the stars, I see you.
And it hurts.

My life is in tatters,
in shambles
in shreds.

None of this matters,
these gambles,
this dread.

I can’t help but wonder,
and worry
and stress

My action are blunders,
a flurry,
a mess.

My world is spinning,
is twisting,
is falling.

The paranoia’s winning,
it’s persisting,
it’s calling.

My control is waning,
it’s dying,
it’s paling.

This smile I’m feigning,
I’m crying,
I’m failing.

My days are numbered,
are checked,
are few.

And I feel so encumbered,
I can’t connect
with you.

Isn’t it funny how views can change,
with just a few little words?
Isn’t it odd how thoughts rearrange,
with just three little words.

They imply so much, yet say so little,
and flip perspectives around.
They make you wonder, make you think,
about secrets you haven’t found.

Just three little words, but huge implications,
seed a feeling that can’t help but grow.
Three little words, sowing suspicion,
You mean, you didn’t know?

The dream of the busy,
the curse of the bored.

To former me,
From starry eyed idealist
To hardened cynic -
I corrupted you.
I turned you into what I am
And I’m sorry.
I’m sorry I couldn’t meet your expectations;
Somehow it hurts the worst
To let you down.

To former me,
The plan you made was perfect
Until I took it
And turned it to ****.
I’m sorry I failed you.
You had such big dreams-
But failure is much more terrifying now.
I’m sorry things changed,
And I wish I could tell you
That I’m happy.

To former me,
I’m sorry I left you behind.
The me that is writing this
Is new and foreign to you.
Sometimes I think you’d be glad,
You’d love my confidence, my creativity,
My theories, and my style,
But at this very moment,
At this.
Exact.
Moment.
I think you’d hate me

Treat her like she’s a play.
Look at her like you’re trying to memorize every subtlety,
Every hint of beauty,
Every graceful rise and fall of her movement.

Hear her like she’s a verse.
Listen to her closely, understanding every word,
Every hidden meaning,
Every cleaver twist of unspoken metaphor.

Speak to her like she’s a muse,
Choose every word like poetry flowing from your lips,
Every phrase of praise,
Every gentle pause a silent cry for more.

Read her like she’s thriller.
Turn the pages with mounting anticipation,
Every surprise a thrill,
Every careful twist a step towards unravelling a mystery.

Love her like she’s a novel,
Like she’s an entire world in your hands,
Every page a masterpiece,
Every chapter an adventure too precious to shelve.

My feelings swing in circles.

Given no reason,
at first meeting,
I hate everyone.

Given a reason,
and the right person,
I overcome the hate.

Given more reasons,
maybe, just maybe
I begin to love.

Then there's just one reason,
and it tears it all down.
I'm hurt.

Then another reason,
the blade is twisted.
I'm scarred.

Then a final reason,
I stop fighting.
I'm destroyed.

And I end where I began.