I used to wake up
wishing I could sleep forever.
I used to dream of
living in the stars, away from pain,
away from air
and all things human.
I used to dread what I loved most,
used to think of death
with every possible encounter.
I even used to get genuinely mad because
I was still breathing.

I stayed up late most every night
because my mind would not shut up;
it would taunt and whisper
promise peace with just a handful of pills
or a jump off a bridge.
The devil lived inside of my head;
sometimes he comes back for a visit
but not too often lately.
He's left too many thoughts behind,
thoughts he'll never bring back with him
(wherever he goes)
because they're etched
and scarred
in dusty corners
permanent.

I've written a note
the one that says goodbye to everyone I love
the one that people will remember
and cry over most
if I ever wanted them to find it.
It's all there, all these past memories
and tortured thoughts
sprinkled on my personality to stay.

Sometimes it all floods
every
inch
of
me,
makes me feel like I'm decaying from the
inside
out
but I pull through.
I always pull through
I always come back up for
air.

But Depression,
she's no quitter.
She'll always be here to try and
drown
me.

It's just my choice if she
succeeds.

All I ever wanted to know was where my dad is,
But now that I'm grown and over my own madness,
I feel that everything that never matter was the sadness.
I've become a person who is stronger because of his absence,
And luckily, the man who raised me was never hurt by me asking this.

Who was he and why did he leave me?
Where in the world could he possibly be?
Is it something I did wrong, or something he saw in me?
What did he see, that made him disappear so suddenly and flee?

But when I look back on my life,
Trying to understand what caused all of my strife,
I never consider the cause to be,
The one who took on the responsibility,
To care, nurture, and look after me.

Because without him, who knows where I'd be.

Not knowing my father is not something I could explain to my future daughter.
It is a void in my soul, a place that will forever remain far from whole.
Growing deeper and darker because of a man I never knew.
While the man who raised me will forever remain to be,
A shining light, rising higher and brighter
Burning inside me, becoming the fuel for my fire.

I hold no compassion for the man who left us behind,
Because I was saved by a real father, one stronger than any potential dad of mine,
A tangible fodder to my fire, to help me live on so one day I may die,
A better person because of my experience in life.
Far beyond any expectations, despite my former father's resignation.
I will forever hold one man in my heart, who taught me to always lead from the start.

I know who I was raised by,
And he will be my father for as long as I am alive.
And after, until the end of all time.

Rest in peace former father, for you are no patriarch of mine.

I wish I could tell you
That I'm not in love with you
Oh no my dear this isn't the case
For you see,
I'm infatuated with an over-romantacized version of you
Which only truly exists in my daydreams
And it was not you I wrote sweet nothings about
It was my imaginary version of you
The version that loves me back,
For the real you...
Doesn't feel for me anymore.
So my darling, my first kiss, my first date, first slow dance, first small romance
See you in my daydreams.

Heard sirens

Saw lights

Another body for California St.

Another day in Stockton.

Wait

I know him.

Them too

Hey, who died?

Tagging in the street

R.I.P T.M.F.B

Wait

...That's me...

No, it can't be
I just came from down the street
from the burrito truck
I had to get something to eat.
No onions . mild sauce, carne asada
Don't forget the limes, $4.25? sweet
I turned around and hit the beat
Just grey sweaters, blue jeans
and vans, not sneaks.
Occasionally tye-dye
if I'm feeling unique.
greeting this day I say
this is pretty neat
The train went by and bird are going
tweet tweet
This sauce is still hot but my sweater
keeps off the 84 degree heat
cause i'm sweating and cooling
These shoes look cool against the concrete
Hearing music slapping
I think it's E-40
Smoke rolling from the windows
An arm reaches out the backseat
**BANG

We’ll try to answer
The unanswerable paradox
Of tragedy and pain
And attempt to explain suffering.
Why ****** wasn’t born with an incurable disease
And why Anne Frank
Couldn’t have just held off
For three more weeks
Until Liberation.

These questions make
the world become poetry.
And we who ask them
become the world.

Inevitable losses contrived from the actuality
Saying goodbye to the ones that we love
Letting them go
Before we’re destroyed
By the inevitable suffering.

I am a grenade.
I am bound to explode.
Fatalities by the dozens.
Even more wounded.
PTSD for years after
I will leave an emptiness
In the lives of those I love
And those who love me.

Life will end midsentence
Before I have a chance to explain
Or say goodbye
Or say I’m sorry
To those who never got the chance.
Because I knew I was a grenade
And I loved them too much
To even be
One of my fatalities.

[Boom]

You whip me around
And you turn me on a friend
Because I wouldn’t turn against you.
How do we find the balance
Of knowing everything
About each other
When everything you tell me
Only serves to destroy me.
Tear me apart
Inch by inch.
And taking something indifferent
And making it matter
Making it ugly, distorted
And so that I am torn in two.
One half under your watchful eye
And the other long dead, lost in
Collateral damage.
Of playing the guilt,
And when I try and fix it,
Deny my apologies.
And make me beg forgiveness.
You call me out
On your sins
Because you cannot deal with them.
And do not see that I am treating like for like;
You know this forbidden territory
Better than I do,
And I wander lost, until you seek me out and catch me
Because you have trespassed many times before
On the territory
That you find me on
And hunt me down
Just to put a bullet in my chest
And then tell me
To say I am sorry for not stepping out of the way.
And when I do
You invite me
To tea
               But in the end, what you don't know

will only destroy you
              
                  Because I will not go quietly…

And I am not your puppet like you think.

Our bed is an ocean,
your body my boat.

Let us explore the sea of our sheets,
as I explore you.

Twisting, curling linens
and I curl into you.

Our bed is an ocean,
your body my boat.