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Jun 2017 · 1.2k
Masochism
forgive me Father, for I have sinned.
I have stolen, lied and cheated.
I've lashed out at those that did not deserve it
and praised those who put themselves on a pedestal.
Yet, my most awful transgression
was self inflicted suffering.
I let others steal from me.
Lie to me. Cheat on me.
Let them break every bone in my body
And stomp me into the ground.
But I didn't mind..
I cared for them.
Be they friends, lovers, or enemies.
I only wanted them to love me.
To be proud of me.
So I let them destroy... everything.
I am disgusted at myself.
She walked with grace.
She talked with a voice as sweet as honey milk.
When she cried I felt every tear hit the ground.
And when she laughed, I knew I was where I needed to be.
Then she changed.
She began speaking softly where I could not truly hear her.
She turned away from me at night and left me cold.
Her white lies turned to pure fallacies
And her eyes became deceptive.
Then she left.
She said she had eyes for another.
And had, for a while.
She claimed it wasn't fair to me
and I agreed with her.
I think about her every day.
The way her touch sent chills through me.
The way her eyes poured poetry into my empty hands.
And spilled between my fingers.
My room still smells of vanilla.
My guitar still sings your praises.
And never stops crying the blues.
I hope to forget you. Entirely.
Jan 2017 · 432
What order must they be ?
I've written copious amounts of poetry in my lifetime.
Stacks on stacks of notebooks and paper pads filled to the point of bursting.
But none of these thousands of words
Can arrange themselves in the correct order
To express how lovely I think you are.
Dec 2016 · 399
Untitled
I find company amidst the strange.
Solace in anything idiosyncratic.
Normalcy leads to boredom,
And a boring life leads to sooner death.
Oct 2016 · 457
Tired.
I'm so tired of screaming at myself.
I'm so tired of screaming at everyone else.
I'm so tired of pulling bottles from the shelf.
I'm just tired.
Oct 2016 · 636
I am invisible.
I am invisible, but also transparently see-through.
You could read me like a book if only you'd open the covers.
Intolerably difficult, but I'd always stand beside you.
Open my spine, read a line and shudder.
Oct 2016 · 474
Weighed down.
Here I am,
the boy with the heart made of lead
And the feet made of brass
Always wondering why I feel so weighed down.
Oct 2016 · 501
Untitled
Everything we ever had was built on sand.
we were doomed to fail from the start,
But I enjoyed every minute of catastrophe I could spend with you.
Sep 2016 · 326
Out of Reach
I can have anyone I want,
but all I want is you.
That ever out of reach object of my attention.
The moon I can't capture between my fingers.
The ever running tide from my shore.
Why do you run from me?
Or, more correctly,
Why am I chasing you?
Sep 2016 · 393
Admitting myself to hip hop
Beautiful women come with beautiful sinnin,
Wrap our bodies up in the softest linen,
10 thousand thread count, way out
In the stars when we eat that lucy and space out.
Let the album play out,
running around in circles, a ring in a boxing bout,
Straight chillin.
Putting all my time and energy into hip hop composition,
I'll display my passions at a free show for general admission,
The acquisition of cognition comes and fades, like apparitions.
no repetition.
no intermission.
All verse, no hook, yeah, the chorus missin.
The words come, and then they go.
The impermanence of life is present in the flow.
A happy man with a split smile named Glasgow.
Bleeding passion.
all these rappers verses is haphazard.
But I'm just a *******
With his craft mastered, cutting lines on the dashboard
Until further notice.
I'll rise from the murky depths and bloom with the lotus.
You know this,
Uh.
I like to flow but I'm bad at it
Aug 2016 · 584
Juxtaposed.
My compassion and my contempt are always at war with each other.
I want to cut human kind with a blade and stitch together the wound I had created.
Sitting in Gods palm I asked him the question of why I am this way,
And he said it was because I was created in his image.
Jul 2016 · 685
The Most Beautiful Goddess.
Moonlight carries her like an ivory carriage.
She walks with the river and cringes not at the insects.
She resembles the water, always flowing and overcoming.
The fireflies ignite the spark in her eye
And the sun's dawn immortalizes her passion.
She floats, ethereal, with the wind.
Horizons calling her sweetly by first name,
Extending an deathless hand to a mortal goddess.
The water colored sunset paints my soul golden.
The clouds hanging like opalescent miracles.
The sun shining between them as Angels trumpets sound.
All the colors are stunning, vibrant, and new,
Yet when they're all mixed together,
They turn back to that gray blue
That I missed so much about your eyes.
Apr 2016 · 853
Pneumonia Cough
I've got a lot on my mind and no space to write it all.
I've got dirt on my face, but no strength to wipe it off.
Going over the edge, I think I'm gonna fall.
I've got a stomach in knots, and a pneumonia cough.
Mar 2016 · 908
Noise.
I think Vincent Van Gogh sliced off his ear to drown out the noise.
Life is so **** loud all the time with its crashing and banging
And sounds of screeching halts in action.
Keyboard clicks and the voices of Charlie Browns teachers.
I feel lost in this soundscape and not in a good way.
Tires and church bells the sounds of the drooling mob drive me mad.
I can't hear myself think anymore,
My soliloquy swallowed by the utterances of curses and cries of crows.
If the world would silence itself for just a moment,
I could sigh in relief.
Mar 2016 · 395
Ayeeee it's spring again.
The sun has shined today for the first time in weeks.
The bird song today doesn't seem to lull me to sleep.
The grass is starting to pucker it's lips
and the trees are stretching their limbs.
Flowers open to breathe fresh air,
The scent of spring is everywhere.
I feel renewed by this springtime hues,
Out with you, old wintertime blues.
Mar 2016 · 489
Nighttime Imaginings.
The moonlit hours haunt young people.
The ivory glow of our sentient satellite
Encases the adolescent mind
with visions both imaginative and lavish in their nature.

The scent of evening primrose inspiring the poet,
Casablanca lily's spill their essence onto the artists canvas.
Stargazers make eye contact with their idols.

We are the bright lights that poke holes through the dark.
Feb 2016 · 831
Gypsy Blood.
The sun calls to me in a sultry voice.
The horizon inviting me sweetly to explore it's territory.
There's gypsy blood boiling inside my veins
And I hear a message on the wind
That cannot go unanswered.
Feb 2016 · 540
Just a thought.
The world would be a perfect place,
if it weren't a place where one needs
nearly boundless energy to succeed.
Feb 2016 · 312
Yeah
Trapped in flesh and bone,
Encased in anxiety and insomnia.
God help me.
When you're an insomniac,
You keep track of time by moons instead of numbers.
Once again I'm up all night.
But tonight is different.
There's not any tossing and turning
Or thrashing about.
Just the stillness of being by myself.
The air is chilly and unbroken by the sound of silence.
Cigarette smoke wafts straight up with no  change in pace.
I wonder if it's linear motion is predetermined or coincidental.
How peculiar.
I just want my smile back
Now it's stuck in pictures and glass jars
owned by people I no longer care for.
Every day is dimmer than the last.
You took my eyes and turned them black and grey
in a world full of colors I'm no longer able to see.
You took something very valuable from me.
Feb 2016 · 439
Will to Succeed
Such wasted potential.
How long has it taken me to make this decision?
Why have I been wasting these past few years?
I need to get myself on track
Before I'm to far off the rails to realign.
I will be something.
I will be great.
Foul and morose is the mind of this soul.
How badly I want to tear my flesh from my bones.
Reach inside and form my heart into an iron lump.
Grab my brain and tear it down it's symmetrical half-line.
I long to eat bullets and wash it down with Clorox.
Why must I feel like this?
All I can think about is how metallic my own blood would taste.
Of how pretty the scarlet would look
On the backdrop of this living room.
One day, I'll find the courage.
Feb 2016 · 749
When Tears Don't Happen
Sometimes tears just don't happen.
Sometimes you feel your soul crack like glass
And watch the pieces fall in glittery shards
To a floor that's as unforgiving as those who made you this way.
I feel far from home, no matter where I go.
Jan 2016 · 499
Stuck in my psyche
You keep sneaking your way
back into my dreams.
I don't want to see you anymore.
I've been working so ******* this.
Get the hell out of my head you crazy *****.
I don't want to love you anymore!
Inhale all the pain,
Exhale a story of strength,
and poetic growth.
Jan 2016 · 397
Crush.
I really like the way your hair waves in crimson hues.
The way you hold your cigarettes is as light and airy as your voice.
Watching you sing your favorite songs, makes them my favorite too.
What am I gonna do, if I keep falling for you?
I've got a crush on you.
I know you'll probably never notice,
but I have to say, your smile is infectious.
I feel I'll always admire you in silence.
It's okay if you never notice, I won't be let down. But I think you're beautiful, Amy Marie. You just got my kinda vibe, man.
Jan 2016 · 307
Who Knows.
I wonder if the moon ever tries to talk back.
I wonder if the sky is bothered by the smell of my cigarettes.
Does the sun squint back at me?
Do the clouds watch me pass by?
Who knows.
Jan 2016 · 350
Not Miss You At All.
I can't wait to wake up one day and not miss you at all.
I know I deserve better but yet I still crave you.
The way your eyes used to glimmer in the sun.
The way your perfume hit my nostrils.
But no matter how badly I desire these things,
What I want, more than anything,
Is to wake up one day, and not miss you at all.
****, man. Feels.
Jan 2016 · 811
With the Help of a Blue Jay
I had my own little circle of Hell.
Demons prodded me with needles.
****** souls invited me to their homes
filled with smoke and treason.

I was sitting in a burning throne of lies and addiction.
With piles of broken glass pieces and hypodermic syringes as a foot rest.
Then one day a hole opened in the sky above
and a single blue jay flew down
and rested upon my boot tip.

He said "Why do you choose to live here, so washed out and broken?"
"Because it is the only place I feel at home, Blue Jay" I replied.
"There is sunshine just beyond your fingertips!" He countered.
"The only light that beckons me is the hellfire surrounding us, bird" I retorted.

"Come with me" he sighed.
Suddenly the blue jay grew ten times his size and sprouted incredible wings.
He made me climb upon his back and soar out of the pit I had become so accustomed to.
"Look at what the sun has to offer," said the blue jay.
there were green fields and rushing rivers,
Playing children I had forgotten existed.

In my place, my personal hell,
I had forgotten about the sun.
the skies were smudged black
And the painted clouds rolled down in grey
Like oil on canvas.

When you're in hell, it's so easy to forget
About the world above.
Seeing past yourself and into the setting sun
Becomes an impossibility.


" Do you see?" said the bird.
"I do see, but what is it I am looking past?" Said I.
"The little things." blue jay replied.
"The little things that used to please you, before you became a monster."
"The rivers used to make you feel whole as you skipped stones across their uneven expanse.
The children reminded you of your innocence before you became what you are. The fields were your home, where you would catch sun and ponder things before you became this."

Suddenly all my cravings vanished.
The black cloud that hung over me stopped pouring rain
And started beaming light.
The portal from whence we came had closed.
I had come home.

The blue jay flew to the ground and let me off his back.
"Now you see," he said, "You see what you had been missing."
He shrank, and flew away into the trees
Leaving me at home,
in my fields,
again.
this poem is about me climbing out of the pit of addiction. The blue jay symbolizes my pure uncorrupted self, and I was speaking from the perspective of my addict self. The nature of good will carried me through hell and back onto the surface of normalcy.
Jan 2016 · 250
Where will you be?
Where will you be,
when the sun sets on me?
Jan 2016 · 365
Ms. Lucy
I've got no plans,
And nothing to do,
so I'll just hang around,
And dance with you,
Ms. Lucy.

We'll play our favorite bands,
and get lost in paradise.
I love to hold your hand,
But it's so hard to say goodnight,
Ms. Lucy.
Tripping major ***** right now.
Jan 2016 · 345
Awakening.
This feeling comes bubbling from the center of my soul.
It's warm and embracing and makes the cold feel like home.
I'm not walking on sunshine, it's emitting from inside me.
Jan 2016 · 440
A Snowy Sunday
As the snow falls
I find myself captivated
By it's beauty,

It falls with no judgement,
Landing where it may.
Snow has no bias
On this Sunday.
Jan 2016 · 336
I've Transformed.
Everything is warm,
Colors are vivid and bright
Sunshine in my soul.
I've had a wonderful transformation of self. I can't even begin to describe it to you.
Jan 2016 · 532
Quality > quantity
My heart is headed in all of the wrong directions,
Delving in multiple women to satisfy my craving of affection
Looking into my reflection, I can see that the tension
Is still there.
How, why, what is the deal?
I have all of the partners
that wanna be lovers
But none of them are making me feel.
None of it's real.
Speaking irrelevance over our meals,
They speak about nothing,
Just constantly blubbering
a grinding and sputtering wheel.

I need more than empty shell.
I need one to whom secrets I can tell
Who will admire stars and throw coins in wishing wells.
Someone who will flee this place with me on a whim
In hopes that all will be well.

She'll have an aquatic soul,
Headbang to rock and roll
She'll lay back and count the holes
In the night sky, through which pure light pours.

She'll find her way to me,
Cause I believe
We're drawn together, magnetically
Blessed to surely meet.
I'll probably delete this later. It went from poetry to rap then back again. **** it.
Jan 2016 · 361
An ode to the sky.
You greet me with open arms day and night.
You look down upon me tenderly while I whisper you my secrets.
You never seem to mind the smoke from my cigarettes
and listen intently while I sing to no one.
I know we never speak directly,
But I just want you to know that I am full of thanks.
Jan 2016 · 252
Singing Trees
The wind sings my name between these trees
and I'm reminded why the greats spent so much time alone.
Jan 2016 · 400
Disposition.
Whenever I peer into the rising sun,
I am reminded why suicide isn't an option.
Whatever feeling that comes will surely flee
Like the tide from the breaking shore.
When the rain comes, I'd rather jump in puddles
than spring for shelter.
I guess it's all about your disposition.
Jan 2016 · 876
The Festivities
Another year in this land.
Another beer in my hand.
I can hear the sounds of the bands,
And the hands, being held, in the street.
I'd love to be, a part of all the festivities.

There are lights in the clouds,
Women swinging around
The waists of the men that they love.

And as the clocks ticking down,
I'll be wrapped, in the shroud
Of the joy in the hearts of men.

What a wonderful time to be alive.
When the suns light escapes your grasp and you're left to wrestle with your darkness,
The night can smile warmly, or with bared teeth.
Dec 2015 · 818
Old Friend.
Keep me awake,
Keep me alive,
Stifle it all
back down inside
Old Friend.

Make the nights never end
as the moon shines brighter than the sun.
You make my vibration strong again.
You make me happy,
yet I know if you hang around,
You'll eat out my insides.

But I was so glad to see you.
Saw an old friend today. She looked just as sharp as I remember her. Her crystal eyes pierced me again.
Dec 2015 · 405
Bars.
It's 3 pm, I was sleeping still
Wondering what the hell is inside of them sleepin pills
First things first, walk to my bar, grab a glass, and get it filled.
Whiskey is the juice of sensations,
I,
Sit cross legged during meditation
Contemplating the fate of a dying nation
In my basement, my body, the temple, distasteful
Falling apart like the homes of the Haitians.
I'm faded.
Trying to get straight answers from my family but they're all wasted
Drinking together us the culmination of our communication.
They say they wish I'd just ****** die.
Fine. I'd rather hear a crooked truth than a linear lie
**** em.
Dec 2015 · 401
Hello again, HP.
I'm sort of fine now since you left.
But I'll never be the same as I was.
When you left you took part of me with you.
My ability to trust.
My ability to vent.
My ability to see potential in someone.
Yeah, you took a hell of a lot from me.
But you'll never take my peace of mind.
Nov 2015 · 573
Recreating Art in Art Form
Let me paint you in watercolors,
I want your hues of blues and reds to drip into clear ocean waves.
Let me spatter your soul on the walls of buildings
As abandoned as that hole in your chest.
You were always psychedelic.

I want to rebuild you from paper mache
Placing all your pieces around the frame
Of what I wanted to build you into.
So I can resuscitate the times when you loved me back.

I’ll sculpt a smile into the stone
I am using to reconstruct you,
So never again can you cast an ugly word at me
And all my poetry
Will be etched in your eyes.

But I can’t get your eyebrows just right,
My paint brush hurts my wrist.
My chisel and mallet cause me carpal tunnel
And I break off your lip in pieces.
The paper mache slides in wet globs to the floor.

Part of me is glad I can’t recreate your impeccability.
Now I may be able to see beauty in something,
Or someone,
Else.
Living life,
Kicking rocks
****** weather,
Wet socks

Lonely walks,
Dusk falls,
Wind blows,
Earths call.
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