I'm sorry I have to say that as far as I can tell, you don't care about me nearly as much as I do you.
I'm sorry these words must be spoken.
I don't want my heart to be broken.
I need my thoughts to be proven true or false.
As far as I can tell, time has changed us.
Simply, my love is written in every message and poem.
My love is written in every car ride and every fear or worry.
My love is written clearly with black ink
And yours is written on a foggy window.

Do you think about me when you're going to sleep?
Do you think about me when you drink another glass of ***?
Do you think about me with love or lust?
Do you think about me at all?

I'm sorry my moonstruck man.
I'm sorry my lovely.
I'm sorry.
But you simply do not love me as much as I do you,
Or at least, you don't show it.

the whole point
is that it only hurts me.

fist connects with wall and the wall stands,
uncaring, unmarred, unaffected.
my fist though?

fist connects with wall and fist, no, i crumple up.
emotion heavy energy expels itself, i am relieved.

for an almost unnoticeable second, that is.
then i am in pain.

hot blood shoots to hot hands and hotter knuckles.
i slam them back against the wall and it stings like fire.

raging at the world, raging at myself,
but my skin is still colored like my own.
there's not enough purple, not enough red.
so i keep hitting until the burn is too much to bear.

at least i didnt hurt anyone else though.
at least i didnt hurt anything that could break.
at least i didnt hurt anything valuable.

i can take pride in that, i guess.
the whole point is that it only hurts me.

An extra
Layer
Under
Your soul

The
Layer
That keeps
Out
The
Cold

Like
An
Holed
Old
Sponge

Which
Has
Washed
You
Before

Soaking
In
The
Thoughts

That
Can't
Be
Wrung
Out

Vocalise...
Listen...

The
Layer
Is
Worn
Holed
Yet

Protects
From
The
Cold

I have words
   good words
      all the best words
         they come out of me
      in fountains
   cascading
waterfall words
   flushing away doubt
      over the edge
         over the precipice
      I speak
   falling words
splashing words
   drowning words
      there are rocks at the bottom
         broken bones
            buried treasure
               known unknowns
            wrapped in reedy words
         left here by thrill seekers
     terrorists, murderers      
   rapists
jumping off cliffs
   swimming over rivers
climbing the walls that I built
   I am a great builder, you see
      but it's not all about me and my words
   I have questions too
Why do the bubbles breathe when I can't?
   Is this light refracted a mirror of the dark?
      Is there such a thing as a grindelow?
         Can't we stop them?
           What is this weight
              pulling me down
                Can I swim?
              Will I drown if I don't win?
            Don't look too closely
       for I don't know anything
   I never did
Let me back in
   I always win
     You'll be sorry
         You will be sorry
     all that will be left
   is a scorched blonde wig
a scorched earth
   a pile of empty emperors clothes
      and legislated words
         captured in email,
            cooked until raw
         served over the body politic
      burnt and broken by the fall
    of ***** grabbing brawlers
  drowned and forgotten in a furore
of water hurtling towards the forgetful sea
   and it's endless tides will bring the bodies back to shore
won't wash away the misdeeds, you don't know that half of it
you will never be clean
  But not me
    I am very rich you see
       I will float away on an endless tide
         of empty promises
            corporate endorsements
               and established exploitations
                  leaving only the roaring echo of the flood
               in which all your words
            all your worthless worlds
         were washed away
      so ask yourself
  on voting day
   who do you hate less?
   who do you hate more?
will it always be this way?

My mind was cloudy
It was filled with the smoke of the illogic
Snapping out of this fog
I awakened
Clearing up the disease of confliction that had made me quite sick.
Dark, cold, and twisted up in knots
My feelings were bleeding out
Crying for help
I felt as if I were not human
I was a living robot.
Slapped back to reality by a tragic event
I began to see things clearer and started to return to a clearer state.
Now, starting a fresh and new life from today..
I walk these days with a pure and clear slate.