She said I was perfect.
Then why did she leave?

She said I was perfect.
Then why did she cheat?

She said I was perfect.
Then why am I flawed?

She said I was perfect?

She said I was perfect.

Perfectly fitting to leave.
Perfectly suitable to use.
Perfectly cut to wear on your finger.

Isn't it perfect,
that imperfections are perfect?

Thank God,
The bar for perfection is so low.

Or I might be perfectly alone now.

...

I am?

Isn't that perfect?

Promises are words,
Not bonds.
As with other words
They can be shallow
Empty
Sarcastic
Meaningless.
So beware of promises,
Especially the implausible.
Fortunately,
Everyone can promise,
Even you.
So promise them back,
Give what they deserve.
Promises are words,
Not pacts.

These days,
I find myself reaching out.

Reaching out for love,
Reaching out for 'like'.

Reaching out for anything
That can make me feel whole.

Reaching out for
the feel of hands that caress;
creating hope,
dispelling hopelessness.

...If only for a while.

Excuse me,
Mister Optimist.
I prefer not to be called
A pessimist.
Because a realist
Realizes
His situation.
And mine is always
Very grim.

So how am I a pessimist,
For learning from the past
Of this..?

Just when I thought
It was over,
You were my beginning.
Just when I thought
I was dead,
You were my revival.

Just when I thought
That I was enslaved,
You became my freedom.
Just when I thought
I'd become enchained,
You were my release.

You were my release.

Hit the release
And get to know
Me better than a joke,
Better than the dead,
Better than a slave,
Better than the chained,
Get to know me better than.

In the end,
Mars is just a rock.
A rock covered in sand,
Made of worn,
Rusty,
Iron.

That said,
It can't control me.
Only I can,
And that's a point of pride.

I sting as much as I will,
I pinch as much as I will,
And I'll sleep in your sandals
As much as I will.

Thankfully,
I often choose to be benevolent.
Only I can choose my morals,
And that's a point of pride.

I may be passionate,
I may be persistent,
Obsessive,
Loyal,
And manipulative all in one.

But I am that and more.
If Mars is meant to restrict me,
It has failed miserably.
Can the same be said
Of it's rusty sand?

This is
The best poem ever.

Spread the word.
Tell the masses.

Just like you did with
that book,
that movie,
that game,
that series.

Just like all those,
You know this poem is
Empty.

Pretty words,
Like pretty 'vampires',
Like pretty smurf-people,
Like pretty-boys with swords,
Like pretty pictures;
Devoid of genuine meaning.

Or is this poem empty?

I suppose time will tell.
Empty things
Are lauded
By the empty-minded.

And don't you know,
Society's head is hollow?

Bleat on, sheep.
This is the best poem ever.
Sheep go 'baa', one by one.

She'll never know what she means to me.
All my life of being lied to,
Treated like a tool for someone else's utility.
Doing what they told me to,
Them telling me that they loved me
As long as I had a job to do.

She wants nothing of me,
Yet everything I want to give.
She's never even seen me
In person, but it's for her I live.
She listens to me.

She listens to me,
Dear God,
She listens to me,
Better than that, it's kinda odd,
She hears me;

She treats me like a person
Rather than the the dog I've become.
I respect her more everyday
Than the setting of the sun,
Yet it's so hard to express,
Every second with her is fun.

She'll never know what she means to me.
Before she came into my life,
I wanted to end it.
Everything was so meaningless to me,
And then she entered.

She'll never ever even know
She was a life saver,
And I'm too afraid to see her leave,
If I asked to return the favor.
All it took was her respecting me
To find my personal savior.

She'll never know what she means to me.
Every time I say hello I want to
Kiss her, Hug her, Tell her that I love her,
But if I do those things
I fear I'm gonna lose her,
Then I'll have nothing to live for again.

She'll never know what she means to me.
Maybe it's for the best.
I'm in constant fear of offending her,
I don't wanna be her pest.
It's a constant struggle,
Staying far enough to stay cool
But close enough to keep warm.

But all my heart needs
Is a little consistency,
So maybe a constant struggle
Really ain't that bad for me?

I know I'm not the best.
Not the best at
Loving, fighting, living, giving.
Living a life hidden in shyness
And a lack of courage.

And I know I don't deserve you.
You are perfect,
Like an Angel
Untouched
Uneffected.

And I know you don't deserve me.
No.
You deserve something more.
One who'd die for you,
Like myself,
But exists on your higher plane.

And I know I am stuck
here, down on Earth,
Getting what I do deserve,
Harsh, threatening words from those I pass.
I walk on
As if I don't hear them,
But I take all their slings and arrows
Unarmored and exposed.
If I truly deserve anything
I deserve something less.
It is only by God's grace I am
Human.

I have undoubtable proof
There is a God;
Without him,
I'd be an ant
Trampled upon by all above me.

You are so far above me
I can't see you clearly,
Which just shows
You deserve something more.

Something more than shy
Something more than a coward
And something more
Than a human
Exposed to the slings and arrows of bitter fortune.

I hold no contempt of you
As you seem to have of me.
I stand firm, like a rock
In spite of your mighty sea.

It's not so much that
I see you raging,
You just strike me as disengaging,
Disillusioned,
Disarranging the concept of friends.
Keeping your distance,
Even if they, too
Only seek your ends.
Spare me of your drama,
But bare me in your pain.

I hold no fault in you,
But I'd hold you in the rain.

October before last.
A foggy, foggy morning,
Traveling fast
Beneath the shelter of
Four steel walls.

Three behemoths clashed,
The vehicles crashed.
And I prayed,
Such a fool…
I prayed to be spared,
That my life
Would repair
Before it was ever even broken.

What a fool.
Feelin' cool
To have escaped
Without a scratch.
Don't count 'em too early, boy,
The scars have yet to come.
Well, the voice then
Was little more than a hum
Trapped in the back of my head.

Since then
I've been older
But none the more wiser.
My life just grows colder,
And I feel like a miser.

None of my dreams
Last very long.
They always seem
To be only days strong
Before they get slashed.
My heart, it just feels
As though it is crashed
To pieces, and it will never,
It will never heal…

God,
I am sorry for my selfishness,
I now know why
I was to die.
My life has turned to Hell
And I would not have to bear it
If I wasn't still alive.

I should have
Let the steel walls take me.

'Stay.'

That's what you say.

'Here is where you'll stay.
I won't be long,
I promise.'

My tail wags
In anticipation
as you walk

Away.

I think of how
Happy I'll be
When at last
I'll see
You again.

Will you tousle my fur?
Will you give me treats?
Will you play my favorite game?
That will be the

Day.

As days go by
I hold my ground.
In hopes that
I will soon be
Found.
But,

Nay.

Weeks go by,
I waste away.
Hours will close
On my final
Day.
But,
In the end,
You could never
Say
Your friend of friends
To the bitter end
Did

Stray.

There once existed a dog. He was by no stretch of imagination the best looking. He was a mutt. No pedigree, no signs of a great upbringing. In fact, he was a stray... Born and raised on the streets, his parents and siblings never cared too much for him, far too occupied with their own needs and endeavors. And so, it was early on that he parted ways with them... Seeking his means to survive.

As time had past and he had gotten used to taking care of himself, he began to notice the dangers of the outside world... More and more, he took note of other, better-looking dogs that spent all of their days cared for and sheltered. Oh, how much he had grown to want to be like them... He wanted a warm place to curl up, people to give him attention and care for the needs that he couldn't achieve all on his own...

Time slept by, and the mutt had advanced a few years, when it happened... A car slammed into his side as he scavenged the road for food, knocking him several feet away. The woman who drove the car stopped in shock and picked the poor mutt up. In an act of kindness, she took him to the vet, and she desperately waited for his full recovery.

This act endeared him to her. To think that a human would care so much for him as to take care of him, an unattractive stranger, in such a manner... From the point of his recovery, the woman kept him home with her. She seemed to look past the ugliness of the mutt and care for it like a child... And together, they spent a few years.

Over that time, the woman had introduced the dog to a number of male human friends... These came and went, but for her sake, he held no qualms about a single one. After all, he felt he owed her much for what she provided him. He felt cared for and loved, which was all that mattered at the time.

Then, a day came that he noticed something different... She had started to wear a ring on her hand that he didn't recognize before. In addition to this, she spent less and less time home. After awhile, she had stopped paying much attention to him... Rather, she spent much of her time messing with some great, white, frilly thing, using strings and needles and scissors...

It wasn't too long after that she stood hand in hand with her new man and began to clear out the house for their joining. At last, they came to the dog... The man shook his head and sneezed, reaching for a handkerchief in his pocket as he said something to the mutt's owner he couldn't understand. They seemed to argue for a brief while, with intermittent sneezings and blowing of noses from the groom.

She sighed and gave into his demands and took the dog outside. Tying his leash to a tree, and placing a sign up reading 'Free Dog', she petted the mutt's head for the last time in a reassuring manner. To him, this translated, 'I'll be back soon'. And so they drove off together, the large moving truck behind them, as he patiently sat in wait, intending to guard the household until she returned.

...But she never did...

In the meantime, he continued to sit at attention at the base of the tree. To him, his owner was just taking a vacation... She would be back... So, he guarded the house for her, feeling fully assured that she would return and give him much appreciation for a job well done.

Nobody ever came to take the 'Free Dog'. Many were turned away by its appearance... An ugly dog was never the type to keep... No, sir. And those few people that did approach to take the dog quickly turned away, deterred by his barking and ferocious behavior as he fearlessly guarded his owner's abode. Even as he was becoming emaciated, nobody approached as his sense of ceaseless guardianship continued, for fear he was diseased.

His final day came. All of his energy was leaving him as he closed his eyes for the final time. His mind still on his owner as he slowly passed.

This is not me,
This is a Mask,
And I will be the first to admit it.

This is not me,
This is a Shell,
Decorated to mislead
And Protect all that keeps me going.

The mask of a joker,
Made to entertain,
And divert their attention
From my self,
To my words.

The mask of a liar,
That says,
"I AM COMPLETE!
I have no regrets."
When I truly regret much of
That which is hidden.

I know.
To you,
I look so happy,
So content.

It's all because
You're there to see me.

If you could see
Me without you,
It would be like
Day and night.

Without you,
I'm worrying.
Are you okay?
Do you hate me?
Is that smile on your face
As conditional as mine?

With you,
I have no doubts.
I have no fear.
I would protect you,
And you would laugh and smile.
And I'd have no thought
It wasn't genuine.

My happiness is dependent.
Dependent on my feeling whole,
Dependent on your smile,
Dependent on your happiness.

Happiness is contagious.
Depend on it.

Always say
'He's the handsomest man alive'
Always say
'He deserves better'
Always say
'He's a charmer'
Always say
'He's perfect'
Always say
'He's a go-getter'
Always say
'He's a man who gets things done'
Always say
'He's a man of many talents'
Always say
'He's never harmed a fly'
Always say
'He works himself half to death'

Never say
'I love him'.

These are not
The hands they once were.
The hands that were young,
The hands that had been pierced by the thorns of a rose.

These are not
The eyes they once were.
The eyes that saw clearly.
The eyes that dimmed as the world around him became more obscure.

This is not
The mind it once was.
The mind that was innocent,
The mind that came under stress
As it fathomed the thought
That his friends had died on the front lines.

These are not
The arms they once were.
The arms that wrapped around his first love as they danced,
The arms that had fractured when a grenade detonated a meter away.

These are not
The legs they once were.
The legs that carried him on youthful energy,
And now required support to allow him to walk.

This is not
The heart it once was.
The heart that loved,
That cared for his friends,
That heart that was now slowly fading away.

This is not
The man he once was.
His life changed him.
Though you might say for the worse,
I say for the better.

Call me a 'misogynist'
For learning your tricks,
Your 'feminism'
Doesn't stick.

I'm sure women
Feel empowered
With you sleeping around
At the twilight hours,
With 'chauvinist pigs'
In your blankets.

'Mistreated' and 'stereotyped',
What you scream
When deemed unripe.

You blame them for
Not taking of refuse
And call them
'Trash'.
All your words should amount
To ash,
But somehow womanhood
Always makes you right,
Even when,
From end to end,
You
Were the only one fooling in the night.

I loved her,
So for her birthday
I made a necklace.

She was quiet and shy,
So I made it with bronze,
A material not shiny,
Not glistening,
But nevertheless
Can be made into
Something beautiful.

It does not seek attention.
It exists to be practical.
It does not promise the impossible.
No wealth does it testify.
It doesn't put itself out to be recognized,
But it is made into something beautiful.

A chain to line her neck
And charms full of meaning
Despite their insignificant appearance.

A bronze butterfly,
Hidden beauty within,
The ability to fly free.

A heart-shaped lock
For keeping love secure.

A key for holding close
Until the time is right
To open.

And two turtles,
For the virtue of patience,
Taking things slow and easy.

I don't know
How she'll take it,
I only ask
That she'll make it
Her treasure.

It's inhuman to ignore emotion,
But why am I expected to have none?

Not expected to love,
Not expected to cry,
Not expected to care about other people.

Isn't that inhumane?

Isn't that wrong,
To see just a tool,
A means to meet your ends?
An instrument to throw away or lend
As soon as you have no use?

Yet no-one cares about emotion,
The yearnings of my heart,
The burnings of my soul,
And over that,
I have no control.

I can't change a thing on my own,
So could I have your efforts on loan?
You know I'm good for it,
It's a proven fact.

All I've done my whole life
Is pay people back for nothing.
So think what I'd do
To be treated human for once?

Too perfect to be true.
The church decorated
All in white,
The satin fringes
Of her gown,
Gleaming,
Glistening,
In the indoor lights.

Outside,
Mother nature's raging,
Her rain and lightning
Almost sounding out
The words of the preacher.

But it doesn't matter.
We know those words
We've heard so often
In every romantic story.

Not missing a beat,
We say our lines
And kiss for the first time
United.

The ballroom tests
My careful planning.
A skylight showing
The torrential sky.

But,
Just as planned,
The first song plays.
Lyrics fill the room
About the light of day
Gracing her lovely figure
Once again.

...And the sky follows its command.

The sun shines on her
Like a halo of divinty
I always knew she held within.

I could never,
In my wildest dreams,
Hope so much
For a day so perfect.

And suitably so, because it never will.

You say I'm
'Too nice' to love.
What kind of farce is that?

How mean
Do I have to be
To earn your affection?

Should I insult you?
Should I **** you?
Should I beat you?
Should I nearly **** you?

These are harsh words.
But these are what you want.
You'd forgo loving
A protector
To let
A Threat
Beneath your sheets.

No matter how many women say it,
'Too nice'
Does not exist.

Let me ask this.
What is
'Too mean'
To you?

You obviously want someone unlike me.
You want someone who holds grudges and retaliates against you?
That's not me.
You want someone who verbally threatens and insults you daily?
That's not me.
You want someone who'll bash your brains out?
That's definitely not me.

Try those out if you want.

Come back to me
When you need your wounds tendered.
There's no way you're coming back whole.

There is no worse torture
To the lonely
Than seeing
Public displays of affection.

What is the point?

Holding hands
Everywhere you go,
Hugging,
Kissing,
Snogging.

You're ******* on
Open wounds.

Many of us
Didn't ask to be left.
We didn't volunteer
To be dying inside
With no paddles,
No nurse,
To revive us.

We know what
Heartbreak is.
And soon,
So will you.

You're
Overcompensating.
It's obvious.
You kiss her head,
Caress her face,
She's not your queen.
You have an ace
Hidden in your deck.

You're just hoping
She doesn't draw
Enough to
Expose you.

I have nothing
To make up for.

No sins against
A woman,
No jealousy
Against a man.

I have only
The experience
To tell when
Someone's being had.

What's wrong?
You can tell me anything.
I will never repeat it.
You are my friend,
Whom I love,
and whom I trust.

Why do you not trust me?
Listen,
I'll hold your heart,
If you'll hold mine.
Be careful,
It's just as fragile as yours,
A glass swan, out of reach.

Holding hearts like delicate birds,
who fell from the nest and broke their wings.
In sharing our hearts,
their wings will mend,
and they can learn to fly again.

All it takes is trust.

Unlucky
i am a black cat
who has his path crossed by another

Unlucky
i walk under ladders
i had once tried to climb
just to fall back down
to where i am now

Unlucky
i look for hope
like a piece of hay
in a needlestack
and i'm stuck with all the pins

Unlucky
i look on my reflection
in the mirror of my mind
which my ugly sadness shatters

Seven Years More...
Seven Years More...

i beg for a lucky charm,
my 'lucky rabbit's foot'.

If you could invest in me,
Would you make me more valuable?

If you brought out the best in me,
Would you make me more valuable?

If you were part of my destiny,
Would it make me more valuable?

Would it make me more valuable?

Would it make me more valuable?

If I held my breath for you,
Would it make me more valuable?

If I lied to make you true,
Would it make me more valuable?

If everything, I would let you do,
Would it make me more valuable?

Would it make me more valuable?

Would it make me more valuable?

Wasted words I should have thought instead of said
Wasted dreams of who knows what stuck in my head
Wasted thoughts and wasted time,
Wasted explosive dramamine
With about fifty billion fuses.

Wasted money
Wasted laughs
On wasted verbal acrobat
-ics that used to summon smiles,
T'would only last but for awhile
Before they'd disappear again
Though I may not see you,
You're still my friend.

Wasted smiles on
Wasted jokes
Wasted guys in overcoats
Written on pages
Never finished
Endless stages.

Wasted sorrow
Wasted pain
We may ne'er connect again
But I still love to make you laugh
Though you may think I'm such an ***.

I am wasted.
Wasted for the better ends
Wasted for family and friends
But I still see where hope begins...

I am wasted.

There goes my mind, snapping like an elastic lifeline
over a sea of daggers.

Waiting on words like waiting on fuses
to be no more, in hopes the explosion won't **** my so-called pride.

...Whatever is left of it.

This isn't the first time.
Knowing my luck, it won't be the last time my hope relied on the sympathies of a bomb.

And wouldn't you know that bombs are unsympathetic?

I'm wasting away here, as I have been for years.
Enduring bombardments with every day, more and more of myself blown away.

I just hope when my day comes, I'm not too damaged.

...If my day comes.

...Will it come?

My heart: already nearly gone.
My face: atrophied to deaden all emotion.

Am I worth anything anymore?

So much blasted away,
day after day,
I only recognize myself
by my scars,
the craters,
like torn earth.

We Fall.
It is what we are.
It is the Nature of us all.
And It always leaves its scars.

We Fall.
There is no other way.
We find we cannot deviate
From this life that is a play.

Written by an author
Who has no fitting name.

We Soar.
It is what we do.
What we desire in our very core
Is to become anew.

We Soar.
From that we cannot stray.
We cannot seem to run
From this life that is a play.

Written by an author
Who has no fitting name.

Will you ever realize
That I never stop thinking of you?
Will you ever see
What I've been meaning to tell you?
Will you ever realize
That all this drives me insane,
But I keep on going,
Keep on living,
Just for you?

I know you've been hurt
Though you won't admit it.
We think,
'If I can ignore the pain,
It is no longer there.'
When all it is
Is a ruse.
Ignoring your pain,
And doing nothing about it,
Hurts others.

It goes on in a neverending cycle.
Words echo across the world...
'Why does nobody care?'
The value of life and feelings have plummetted,
Because no-one feels the pain.
Holding your pain and inflicting it on another
Rather than dealing with it.
That's the way the world spins.
That's the way hearts break.
That's the way the world will end.

The Holocaust of Life and Feelings.
And, one by one, we're the Nazis and the victims...
Who's the ******...?

Women
Never did a thing for me.
Just tease
And tease
And tease.
Never love,
Never please.

Irony
Is what I see.

Women
Never did a thing for me.
Say they want a man of quality,
But rarely stare
Too much higher than my knees.

Women
Never did a thing for me.
They always wanted me
To treat them well,
When all they'd gift to me
Was hell.

Who am I to these creatures
Besides some *** toy
That's too stubborn
To let them turn me on?
They don't want
My feelings,
My heart,
My humanity.
They just want my seed,
And I'm a farmer who won't sow.

I'd take a bullet
For any and all of you,
Not that it matters,
You knew this already.
For some of you,
I've gone the distance;
For others,
I've practically
And,
In some cases,
Emotionally
Killed myself already.

I've brainwashed myself
That any of you
Would do the same;
An obvious lie.
In all of this,
I've done everything
Just for love
Just for kisses
Just for hugs
Just for the idea
That I exist for a reason,
Just to have you  sail away
Like ships.

None of it makes a difference.
I love you all too much
To resort to piracy.
If I were to hijack you,
Send the signal,
Drop the anchor;
It won't change a thing.
You'll still
Disrespect
And Disregard.
I'll just be painted the villain.