i do not write in pencil
  it's all written in real
no pattern, no stencil,
  hand drawn hard feel

inhale exhale
  whatever air is available
words need breaths to exist
  yet breathless i persist

never been in a band
  my words never heard
left to hold my own hand
  trying to unthink my words

no eraser available
(though noe is erased & dull)
so i babble feeble
  (though no words escape my skull)

eyes blink
  to rid themselves of the red
but don't disguise a think
  cuz the lids are hiding brain-dead

can you breathe underwater
  believing she's oxygen for you
can you breathe when you want her
  but she's allergic to you

soft socks should soothe a soul
  on a cold night in a Shannon cuddle
and be the only thing worn on the morning
  where we have each other waking for moaning

i thought She Loved me deeply
  NEEDED me
    (**** found there were cracks in our foundation)
i believed we were US forever
  walked the waking dream of our Love Affair
    (**** learned she could lose the fascination)

i was in LOVE
  She was dating
i found The One
  She was just dating

February 3rd came & went
  harbringer of the death of clint
March 8th was the final ****
   of the last of my living will

been in a haze of agony
  where my own jester hates me
i wake daily in a daze of disbelief
  to a nightmare real with no relief

my tears don't fall
  they flow
strong & steady
acidic yet empty
and their side-show-bob
  is the echo of my sobs

i keep writing poem after poem
  of pain
    PAIN

when the only poem i've ever wanted to write
  is the one She wants to re-read every night

Once upon a time, a little girl met god.
she wanted him to be her f riend,
but he told her to leave immediately, "it's dark and cold and dear I am old for you, leave."
And she ran.
Years later, god saw the little girl
but she changed, wrinkles and dark circles.
he whispered in her ear, "let's be friends"
she laughed and laughed and laughed
and screamed,
"It's dark and cold and you know nothing. Die already."