Why must we destroy language with abbreviations?

In my phone

And on my computer screen

The words lack worth

Lack depth

Lack the luster

The way they taste on my tongue as my jaw works the syllable

ILY means I LOVE YOU

See also: If I had to choose between holding the world up like Atlas or holding you

I’d hold you till the earth shattered.

BRB means BE RIGHT BACK

See also: I am not leaving forever and in a few minutes

You can once again have my undivided attention

*** means WHAT THE ****

See also: I can’t believe you left me like that

I mean WHAT THE ****?

BFF means BEST FRIEND FOREVER

See also: I don’t care if it takes forever for you to say that

Take all the time you need

DTF means DOWN TO FORNICATE

See also: DOWN TO ****

See also: For an evening

I am going to leave my best friend forever

For a girl who makes me wonder

What the **** I am doing with my life

For the chance that she may actually one day tell me

I love you

But the first morning after

As the breeze cools the sweat off our naked bodies

As she finally wakes up

Looking like the safety of bad memories

I kiss her on the forehead and say

I’ll be right back

Only this time

I won’t be

Buddha taught
about "mere words"
since words
in one sense
are like numbers
without any real meaning
like they're all Greek to me
but I think
being something
like a poet
that words
can be powerful
with the capability
of transforming lives
by the process
of the links
that occur
in the mind,
connecting a myriad
of connotations
and denotation
that set off
a potent brain chemistry
that can make the difference
between a kind of sanity
and a kind of madness.

There are monsters eating at your soul

Just a few bites now and then

Just enough to make you wonder

Where the drain is

What tub are you filling when that emptiness sets?

Where does your heart go when you have nothing to pour it into?

Where has all the time gone?

Because you’ve got bags so big your eyes look like caves

At least now you know where all your tears went

And why don’t you sleep anymore?

You’ve never been good looking enough for beauty sleep but still

Didn’t anyone ever teach you what it means to be sacred?

When you die

You’ll see me one last time in this mirror

And I’ll show you everything sacred you missed

Every time you make someone smile

Is sacred

The gloves you wear when you box the hell out of yourself

Are sacred

Every girl you’ve ever wanted to kiss

Their lips are sacred

Every moment you spend reminding your brother and sister how important they actually are

Is sacred

Every morning

Every afternoon

Every evening for the rest of your life

Should be sacred

Your poetry even if it never passes your lips

Even if it never changes lives

Even if no one ever likes it

It is sacred

The time it takes to finally learn to love yourself

Is sacred

I know you’ve got years to go

And scars to heal

Your flesh is not done bubbling from the heat inside of your soul

And the monsters you are too stupid to ask to leave

Are not even close to full

And it might not be long before we meet again

Just know that not everything is going to make sense

Yeah you might have been a mistake

But so many mistakes

Are sacred

An addict still has sense,
And if he’s wise,
Still, wisdom -

It is his will
That stands in question.

i saw a downed tree two weeks ago.
it was green and full of life
despite the evenly-spaced, spliced logs
its trunk had become.
each with over forty circles,
outstanding the test of time others could not.
to us time is current, to nature it is recurrent.
all we know are the rings around,
cycles repeated, cycles abound.

we stand ready to survive the day,
while nature stows and stocks away.
for next year, for many to come,
nature, like the tree, prepares to endure its run.

we say let's live to see another day,
why not another year? would ten not be okay?
calculations, calculations,
always counting through observation.

abacus please don't feed me lies,
the tree grows rings and then it dies.
blooming, blossoming, full of expression,
its leaves are brown now, nourished recession.

but fear not how, not when, nor why,
this poor giant never planned to die.
see, up they grow, from seedling or sapling,
to shade us all, optimistically happening.
no bowing their chins, no lowering their gaze,
for the sunshine is their life force today.

if ever dazed, lost or swayed,
just climb a tree and learn its ways.
the future can't be met just yet,
go ahead, breathe in the day.
all we know are the rings around,
cycles repeated, cycles abound.