I wanted to write
about that sweet spot
the lowest part of
a woman's back
where my hand rests
after making love
where I trace my palm
up and down
that same perfect curve
over and over
my favorite place

But here I am again
again and again
full of anxiety
your trespasses
firmly rooted
in my mind
my heart
still can't
understand what
happened to it
so I make this "art"
instead

What if I fell
in love with you,
and you lost what's
left of your hearing,
and you couldn't
hear me say
I love you
anymore?

Words I write as I cry
are occasionally found
to be beautiful
Words I speak
and actions I take
are often ignored
If my written word
finds its way
into your heart,
Perhaps this
Is the greatest love
I'll never know

I feel as though living
without someone to cry over
is hardly living at all
I crave a connection with someone
who would make my world fall apart
if she became sick
I would give her everything
before I lay her to rest

Box pasta boils
on the 1950 stove
and I wonder why
I haven't written
in a while

I'll be in the middle of doing my thing...
Look,
Honestly,
I'm looking at ****, ok?
And I'll see a girl
doing something you liked to do
And I think,
You liked that...
and in general,
it's a turn-on,
But now,
I just remember you
and I miss you
Not just for what this girl and you do,
but YOU.
I actually stop.
I stop and write a poem, for ****'s sake.
And I miss you.

If I wear the right shirt
Is that how you'll fall in love with me?
If I groove the way you like
If I nod my head just right
If I wear the right shirt
Is that how you'll fall in love with me?

Is it really a healthy outlet,
Or does it cause me
to dwell on my pain?

Will I still want to write
if I become a healthy person?

I guess it would be okay if I don't;
I don't like writing enough
to stay this miserable

Maybe some day
I won't like the idea of her enough
to stay this miserable

It's strange that we were carried around in our moms in the same area
And that we each took our first breath in the same hospital
Maybe we breathed the same air, though it would have been stale by the time you were there
It's strange that we walked around nearby and went to the same school in our different bodies
That we probably passed each other in the hallway
That years later, we actually met, had small talk and flirted
That our bodies met for the first time
That we smiled and touched each other
That part of my body was inside yours
And that what went on outside, I guess, caused some issues between us
So now someone else's body is in yours
Someone else I shared hallways with
And orange slices at soccer games
I don't really like how it is now
I wish I could have just stayed inside you
I think we both liked that

Maybe tomorrow
I can cry
about something
different

Remember how we were together,
you and me?
How I would say
good morning,
it's another pretty day
And I'd look over,
and there she was,
and it was - pretty, already

And she'd go her way,
we'd go ours,
and we'd think about her
But just at the time
she left for good,
you left me, too,
and you're not
coming back either,
are you?

What if I stopped caring
about everyone
including me

What if I decided
it's not worth the effort
to worry
about what I
"get out of life"

What if none of the
cliché *******
love, self-betterment
mattered to me anymore

Maybe I could relax,
accept reality,
live and die,
and not give a ****
really not give a ****

No more struggle

It's getting late
I shouldn't watch another episode
I turn it off and grab my phone
Look through some old texts
In place of wasting more time on tv,
I'll cry about you instead

If you're anything like me
Like peace and quiet
Or kinda keep to yourself
But you're a hot girl
Do you ever get to ******* relax?
Or do you constantly have guys
Approaching you
Because if you were acting like me
Right now in this bar
I would be talking to you
Not sitting here alone
In a booth

It depresses me
To see other couples
Or people hooking up
I don't know why
But it has something to do
With you

I always check my account
to see how many likes I got
on a poem I wrote
But sometimes,
just knowing a few people
even viewed it
and know that I'm hurt,
which is usually what I write about,
even if they don't care,
is kind of...good, I guess.
It's hard to believe there's
something like 6500 views
on all my poems combined...
hard to imagine all those experiences
of different people
with different minds
experiencing what I wrote in some way
even if they just read a few lines
and moved on for good
I wonder who all of you are

My counselor asked me
if it bothers me that she moved on
what appears to be quickly
and how I feel about it

It's a heaviness in my chest
and a tightness
and it keeps me warm
in the worst way possible
when I decide to look her up on facebook
or when I realize
she's getting ****** by someone else

I mean, it ******* hurts, man
it makes me angry,
and under the anger, more hurt,
but is there really any point in talking about it?
Because it's been months
and I feel like I'm getting nowhere

It just feels like
I don't want to finish this ******* "poem"

It feels like I want to call her a *******
for lying to me
I want to call her a ******* fool
for throwing me away
for apparently not caring about me
enough to even tell me how she felt

But for whatever reason,
I still think highly of her
I still wish she hadn't gone,
and in my broken, weak, ******* heart,
I still want her to tell me she was wrong

How is it supposed to ******* feel?

And by that, I mean my Turkey Cheese *****

But for real, it can also **** my *****

That is, my Stuffing *****

But, on a serious note... it can **** my real, actual *****

Of course, I'm referring to my Oreo Cookie *****

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

I hear creaks and cracks
as I fall asleep,
and I wonder
if someone broke in

But the chance
a ninja is sneaking
in here,
I think,
is very slim

How many more times
Will I watch a guy **** two girls
Before I kiss one I love?

and I'm not
going to
say it
to you,
so I'll just
say it
here instead

I'm still recognizing
your lies
three months later,
and it hurts
it really hurts.

I have all this depth;
a heart
that bleeds

But when I meet someone new,
it's blaaaaand
What's your favorite color?

Why can't my heart
come out
and speak for me?

Friday night,
I got high
and watched an old film:
The Neverending Story

So many simple shots
and scenes
played back in my memory
at the exact time they
were displayed on screen
It was beautiful
I smiled fondly
as I remembered them all

Then one shot came into view
One I don't recall
Something simple—
People running across a field

And I bawled

This is The Neverending Story
Yet,
we all die

I bawled

You can't be strong all the time;
Sometimes it's okay to be weak

But I have a feeling
if you use less energy
trying to be strong,
you'll find you're already
stronger than you realize

And sometimes
strength isn't the answer
Sometimes
your small, soft hands
are exactly what's needed
by someone in pain

Maybe you're good enough
just as you are

You know how
some want to
fix their lover
and others badly
need fixing—
What if you're both?

I miss
being in love,
and I'm afraid
it only happens
one time

I'm sorry, M,
but you've just met
an unhealthy man

Being in your line of
work, you could probably
find a diagnosis if you tried
Instead of hour-long
sessions, you'll see it
after weeks of just
hanging out and talking

If you're good with
body language,
you may already
have some idea
that not everything is
wonderful inside me
And as time goes by,
I'll reveal my story
and what goes on within

You are free to choose,
as am I;
I do not know
if you're right for me
And I'm also reluctant
to make that decision
because I am so lonely
I could imagine you
to be broken as well
Being hard of hearing,
I'm sure,
comes with difficulty

But I need a connection
I need a soft-hearted girl
One who can absorb me
And I don't know
if that's someone you can be

While fools burn my city down,
Even though you ****** me over,
Lied to me several times,
And are now with someone else,
All I want to do is tell you
I hope you stay safe tonight

You...
I'm not sure what to write about you
I wonder if you can see my hurt
You say you're a very anxious person
And that you had a panic attack
And that's why you started counseling
The way you carry yourself, though,
Seems like you have it all together
When you look at me,
Do you see what's going on inside?
Can you see my past?
My recent history?
I don't know what to do or say or think
I haven't kissed you
Do I want to?
I like our goodbye hugs
I notice you are a little cuter to me each time we meet
Tonight for the first time, though,
My last love came to mind for no apparent reason
It was only the anger and pain
Not love (or infatuation)
But she is still in the way
And I need to take it slow
I just hope our feelings line up
Whether or not we continue to grow

You know how songs
beat by the measure
One measure ends
Another begins
And then it loops around
and starts over again

Is the next measure
the one
where you loop around
to find me
again?

Recorded off the cuff: https://soundcloud.com/user4081486/after-a-night-out

How can I ****** look at you right now?
All of you
You're all just ******...
You're ****** ******* yourselves out
You're not finding love
You're not finding anything that fulfills
How can I look at you?

All you're getting met is
a physical need
at best
Some of you probably not even that
And here I am
After a night out
I'm meant to look at you?
And get off?

You look into the eyes of these men
as they *******
You think you're getting what you need?
I doubt it
I really doubt it
Am I getting what I need?
I doubt it
I really doubt it

I feel more empty every night
All I'm doing is watching
Here you are
Giving your everything
to these men
And I'm watching
I'm not getting what I want
I'm not getting what I need
How can I imagine that you are?

Recorded off the cuff: https://soundcloud.com/user4081486/the-observatory

...You remember doing that with me?
Sitting on the couch or just standing around
Watching TV
Playing darts
You remember talking about shooting stars?
The size of the universe
Where we came from
Where we'll go once we're dead
Dead...hard to accept, but we'd talk about it
You had your views and I had mine
I found yours to be beautiful
And remember how I wanted to take you
To the observatory?
I never got to take you on that date
I doubt if anyone ever will
But I wanted to see you look at the stars
Or look at the planets with your own eyes
Just how you'll do
After you die

Beautiful girl,
You strike fear at my core

You alone can get close to me,
And only slowly,
One secret at a time

As I release them to you,
One by one,
I fear you'll turn away and run

The more you hear,
The more you may hurt me
But still I will try,

For the thought of your beauty
Wrapped around me entirely
Is greater than the sum of my fear

A mere three poems you have posted
and I sense something like beauty
in your lines
Something exactly like beauty
A hint of pain,
but every indication of self-betterment
through self-reflection
and direct (non-)action
as you feel the edge
but do not press it through
which I hope you continue not to do
And although I have never
drawn my own blood
I find myself touching things
just to see how they feel;
my intent, to escape anything real

So I imagine you experience life
in a similar way
Small escapes whenever you can,
but questioning whether something's
wrong with your head
And the agony of loss;
your cells certainly remain
And your mention of tampons
brings to mind for me
that my last love's last remaining
evidence of our time
is a ****** wrapper that stayed
in my trash for months,
even survived a move
and now rests in a big bag
ready to go out.
Surely, you are still with him
somewhere in his life.

You are not disgusting,
of that I am sure
We all have our secrets
And those of us who hide them all
are the disgusting,
because you find them out
when it hurts the most

And as I bring this piece to a close,
I see you have revealed two more of your own,
further revealing your heart and its beauty,
as you give to a man who has a heart like my own

Could you please pretend,
For one night,
That you're in love with me?

Cuddle up next to me,
But not like last time;
Like you're here for me,
Not just coincidentally

Turn your gaze toward me
With a look of deep content
And a twist of sweet happiness
And kiss me back this time
When I kiss you on the cheek

Hold my hand
And move your fingers,
Caressing mine,
And making me feel
As adored as you are

I remember when you told me
about a guy you met
with whom you had a connection
from the outset
He looked at you with a look
you'll never forget
When he spoke,
you heard the truth
about the stardust you came from
Who knows
where the star came from,
but you came from it
Why did you run from him?
As beautiful as you are,
it only would have taken a look
It would have been a look
he'd never forget
And you could have both kept
remembering it together
until the very end
And I can't understand
Why did you run from it?

"
People are more likely to believe in the supernatural—God, angels, or miracles—when they feel lonely than when they don't, according to new research out of the University of Chicago. The team of researchers also found that people alleviate loneliness by anthropomorphizing —turning objects into people that can keep them company. "When people lack a sense of connection with other people, they are more likely to see their pets, gadgets, or gods as humanlike," says Nicholas Epley, an assistant professor of behavioral science at the University of Chicago’s Graduate School of Business and one of the study's authors.
"

So where is this made
up object known
as God when I'm
more lonely than
I've ever
been in
my life?

When the
Most enjoyment
I can
Get out of life is
By
Cutting up my
Non-poetic
Lines of
iN
The most annOYing
Wa
Y
Possibl
E,
U
Kno
W
I'
M
Pretty
****

I could stay up like I always do
Browse the web
Read or write a poem or two
Continue with the cycle:
Long for meaning,
Get eaten by pain,
Fail to sleep,
Barely get through work,
Repeat
But tonight, instead,
I'll just go to bed

No wonder you couldn't have a conversation with me
No wonder you can't even respond to the email I wrote you
Not that I expected it to be welcomed with open arms
But it's months later and I'm still piecing together your lies
And I'm sure the truth is even worse than what I've discerned
Congratulations. You're the biggest liar I've ever known.
And something is deeply wrong with me
That I fell in love with you.

sometimes I write
so I can obsess
over lines
instead of the
****** feelings
written inside

You're welcome for holding you,
Whether it was comfortable or not

You're welcome for listening
Your simplest complaints,
Your smallest victories,
I bore them all in my heart

You're welcome for suffering through
My loneliness for you

You're welcome for my words,
Silent, spoken, and true
I never lied to you, about you

You were my girl;
I wish it were still true
Because in spite of it all,
I still love you

I open the browser on my phone
And then I close it
For the tenth time
I have a dozen things to do
But nothing in me wants to
So I sit here, depressed,
Dry clothes wrinkling in the dryer

Recorded as spoken word: https://soundcloud.com/user4081486/behind-me

how would you feel

if you sat behind me

as I sit at my desk

as I read poetry

as I write poetry

as I consider what's going on in my heart

as I think about how much I miss yours

could you fall in love with me again?

Not the whole me, anyway
I...can't share who I am
Not here, not now
But I write
To give you hope
There's someone else
Like you
And if you are you;
If you're the one
I'm speaking to;
The one who knows
Exactly what I'm
Hinting at;
Well,
You are pretty broken
But people improve
And they disprove
What others believe
To be absolute truth
And I
I am one of these
And you could be, too

her eyes
are far more
than pretty;
their surface is
gleaming gloss,
and just beneath,
a green
and blue
and hazel nebula
appears too vivid
to be real,
as though
a drop of blood
fell into a full glass
and turned a
soothing
mix of colors,
but lost none
of its
intensity
or
life
or
the pain
that drew it out

I'm better at
crying
than writing
a piece to
wet your eye
But because of
how I feel
as this tear
streaks
down
my
cheek
I have to try
I have to try

Written as spoken word: https://soundcloud.com/user4081486/colorado

So I hear you want to move out of town
Colorado the destination
Though you always, always had California on your mind
And CO is the exact opposite of CA
Except for ****
And except for your boyfriend

And I hear you could keep your job and work from home out of state
That would be great
So you could stay inside all winter, out of the cold
And you'd never meet a new soul
But you'd have your ****
And you'd have your boyfriend

But sadly, you'll rot away inside as you come to realize you hate this place
And though your new love is perfect at first, he becomes irate
And even though you're the sweetest thing in his life if he'd only open his eyes,
He doesn't seem to see it so clearly anymore

And the longer you stay, the further you grow away
Because you already gave him your all by moving away
And it cost him nothing.

Just like with your last boyfriend, being with you
Cost him nothing.

And now, again, when it starts to cost him anything at all,
You'll find he's not so much fun anymore.

And the truth is I know nothing about your relationship
The truth is all I'm basing this on a hunch, and some things I remember from the time we spent together
And the truth is this has nothing to do with where you go or who you know
The truth is it's just another self-centered poem about me being hurt

But I still think you're making a huge mistake
And I'm sorry
Because it's really gonna hurt when you uproot your whole life
Only to find he would never lift a finger for you
I'm sorry

I find pictures of you
I've never seen before;
The same missing feeling,
Only just a bit more

As I read everyone's writes
I try to find pieces
I can believe are mine
And thoughts I wish were hers

The fantasy is appealing,
Imaginary healing
But it'll never be quite right,
So I'm back to real life

Do you think
I could
make something
beautiful
if I tried?

Do you think
it could move
hearts
and
minds?

Do you think
I have it in me
to show
everyone
how I feel
in spite
of my fear
of everything
real?

Do you think
if I reveal just
who
I
am,
anyone
will still
love me?

Do you think
once my
breath
is gone
from my
freshly-tarred
lungs,
anyone will
miss me?