Writer's block has clogged my mental pores
Oily ignorance I cannot ignore
Technology is fogging up my mind
Leaving me no time to unwind

I looked in the mirror today
And guess what I saw

My ugly, stunted imagination's face
Full of gross digital zits
I'm really starting to miss
My former wit
I've got to get out of this keyboard-y place

Trying to juggle at 1am,
Trying to catch those ******* *****,
Trying to throw them the"right way",
Trying to do everything everyone tells me,  
Everything that I can't do.

Thoughts swirling in my brain,
Fogging my concentration.
Self-doubt arising,
wondering why no one has called me a failure yet.
Questions screamed to the universe.

All this fuss,
Just for three juggling *****,
Three juggling ***** which I can't juggle,
Three juggling ***** leading to my accusation of a failure,
Three juggling ***** questioning my capacity.
All this for three juggling *****.

The seraph sky on ebony night,
A white marble of placid light.
Casting to the living glass,
Haunting, the feeling's elapse.

A time of gardenia drapes,
Hanging the mourning wall.
Scent of ambrosia fogging,
The pavement covered in moss.

Portraits of Celts amidst,
Drifting upon moonlight mist.
Eyes delving, ears opt to hear,
Voices whisper of ancient fear.

An oracle muses the unguided,
As trees speaks the truth.
Humanity strives to be the art,
Yet only remembers by a few.

I’m just a more miserable version of myself
and my pen is my weapon that it uses,
Leaking out the gas I consume
and fogging the paper with words of death.
It carves out my pain to a permanent grave,
doing the bleeding for me,
slashing across the page; ink runs,
tears run, but I
can’t run.

I let the glow of the headlights
and the glow in your eyes
guide us home.

Faint chords of an old rock song
drifting out the radio,
your breath
fogging the window

You, me,
a billion points of light
hanging above our tired heads.
And then you whispered quietly to me:

"These are the moments I remember."
The cream of your voice
Dragged me back from the clouds
and I turned to you.

"these are the moments I live for."
The slight furl of your lips
and the reflection of the moon in your eyes
hurled me back into my daydreams.

And then we were silent.
And the world felt right.

The Most Exciting Part About The Night,
Was Watching The Milliliters Of The IV Bag,
Count Down From 1000,
Blood Staining My Right Arm,
A Glassy Stare Fogging My Own Vision,
The Bitter Taste Of ***** And Dissapointment,
Was Lodged In The Back Of My Throat,
Thirst Coating The Roof Of My Mouth,
My Body Weak,
The Rhythmic Clicking Of Machines Relaxing,
Almost--Peaceful,
Black Clawing At The Sides Of My Eyes,
Whispering A Lulling Language--Sleep My Friend,
Doctors Poking At My Abdomen,
Nurses Pushing Fluids Through My Veins,
Dyes, Potassium, Water, And Many Medicines,
X-Rays And CAT Scans Went By In A Blur,
As I Slowly Regained My Body

What's with these car windows,
Fogging up as you tell me to calm down?
I take deep breaths
And try not to make the sound
That's building up within me
Moans that are far too loud
I'm arching my back
And and squirming around
What's up with these car windows?
Fogging up when you tell me to calm down.

If he held me again today
I'd collapse into his being
In anger and regret
And thankfulness
Otherwise there'd be no change
He was once all of my heart and mind
Not only occupying my thoughts
Fogging them
I did not think of me
I thought of us
A fragile concept
One of the past

If he held me again today
It would be the last

Love is a violent act.
I mean, how does something,
So sweet and lovely,
Make you ready to commit,
Brutality and adultery,
And render us so incapable,
Of thinking past jealousy?
With red words fogging our eyes,
And a black void echoing between our ears,
I think love is a violent act.
For nothing like it,
Motivates us to tear down cities,
Dance in the ruins,
And rebuilt something new,
All for one person.
Love is a violent act,
That makes us take our hearts,
Pry, rip and tear slowly from our chests,
And lay it as an offering,
To someone who doesn't want it.
Love is such a violent act,
Melting our brains and controlling our tongues,
Numbing us to the fact that if we care, we will hurt,
Giving us an addiction worse than that to drugs,
God, it made us do so many things we shouldn't have done.
Love is such an unforgivable,
Violent,
Act.