Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
May 2023 · 412
Overdue
Thanks, Hello Poetry! :)
I’m glad it exists
Jan 2020 · 42
My Dog
From my window, I glance at my yard
a picket white fence, and my amazing dog.
He runs, he plays, chases and weaves
Wishing to be outside the fences he sees

He's never known much of the outside world,
he's lived his whole life in the gates of pearl
Most of his time is spent wishing to be free,
but the only one who can set him free is me.

He bites and howls at the fences of white.
They never budge, simply out of spite.
They serve only one purpose, to keep the dog in,
standing to ensure his life never begins.

I have on occasion let my dog roam,
he doesn't miss us, this is not his home.
The times he roams are the best of his days
I can tell he is happy, in an absolute craze.

But as do most things, it comes to an end
Upon me to catch him, he can always depend
So back into the white prison he goes.
He's comfortable there, it's all he knows.

I get mad at him, he known not what about
All he ever thinks of is ways to get out
Someday perhaps the fences will fall,
my dog could run and play, give joy to all

But until then, he'll remain inside
having nothing but hopes and ounces of pride
Do I have the power to allow him to leave?
Why should I not, he needs to be free.

There's a reason I can't, it wouldn't be right
I know he's safe here, he stays day and night.
Is it worth the risk? Would he remember me?
The final escape; his true destiny

I approach the fence for one last time,
inside this yard, inside my mind
Prepared to let my sweet dog run
Hand on the latch: four, three, two, one...

The latch doesn't move, it's stuck in place
I have no control over this eternal race
I am my perception, as was from the start
My fence is my mind, my dog is my heart.
Typing up an old one. Yay :)
Dec 2018 · 208
The Look in Eyes
I’ve ******* lost all of my **** marbles
I don’t find a spec of solace in any online articles
For the life of me, I cannot predict many of my neuronic particles
But I have to get out of bed in the morning like you do because I have **** to do too.

I don’t know who I am or who I want to be
I’ve spent my whole life mirroring rap lyrics and people on tv
Every word I speak feels like a desperate plea
I just want to feel at home someday, somewhere

What other people have, I desperately crave
I know for a fact there are many social groups I cannot infiltrate
People give me pity and call me sweet, I’d rather have hate
But I don’t see it happening since I don’t often provoke any strong feeling

To be hated, better than being tolerated, I suspect
I put so much effort in and that’s why I fail tests
I can empathize, listen, sacrifice, and jest,
But people want friends, not servants

Self-deprecating as I am, I love being I
I love being wrong, **** being wise
When I get serious, I look people in the eyes,
So maybe I’ll start doing that more often.
Aug 2018 · 6.2k
Insecurity Roller Coaster
I'm so lonely and it feels like there is nothing I can do about it.
How could I convince myself that it would be ok to find someone to be with in a physical way, knowing that I am just using them to make these miserable loneliness feelings go away?
What am I doing wrong to cause these feelings to relentlessly incinerate my mind every night?
Why does my desire to be close to someone else override my instincts, dull my sense of priority, and numb my enthusiasm for life?
What kind of person am I if I am ruled by pleasure-seeking cravings that probably can only be temporarily satisfied anyway?
When will the time come when these lustful alarms ringing in my mind calm down enough to disguise themselves, allowing me to pretend to not be a desperate love-starved clingy loser who can never escape the top of my own priority list, no matter how many other things compete with being close with women who I am attracted to?
When will I live and breathe through a day without thinking about ways to find myself in situations with women who I am attracted to, knowing all the while that my toxicity stands a more-than-fair chance of either running them away or misrepresenting myself to manipulate until I can no longer hide who I disgustingly am?
What will it take to quell my constant need for approval and attention?
How will I ever satisfy this desire, anyway, since I am consistently attracted to women who have no interest in approving of who I am and humoring or ignoring women who see me as a good person?
What am I doing chasing women who don't want to be with me?
Why do I think that if I keep texting, complimenting, or joking with girls who I am attracted to, they will suddenly find me completely attractive, even though they clearly don't?
How low would I have to go to be more interested in unraveling a girl physically instead of thinking about getting to know her, understanding her mind, and prioritizing her own interests and well-being above all else?
Why does my lustful and obsessive nature have to so strongly contradict my ability to behave in a way that makes me sexually attractive?
Why do I selfishly choose to express myself even though the only person who benefits from it is me and everyone else either laughs at me and thinks I'm a fool or decides to smile and walk away since I am not giving them any benefit?
What kind of person would be attracted to a passive reluctant caring individual such as myself, and then remain attracted to me when they learn that I am truly a passionate aggressive obsessive over-the-top unstable rambler?
What am I supposed to do if the years go by and I keep adding questions to my list of insecurities and my perseverance in this constantly losing battle fades away?
What am I supposed to tell my family and friends and grandparents when they ask me if I have been meeting any girls?
How can I try to sell myself to girls knowing what a toxic mess I am?
How can I try to sell myself to girls knowing how frequently girls who get close to me no longer want to spend time with me?
Why does everyone look at me with pity?
Why do I keep chasing girls who don't love me, or like me, or think I am sexually attractive, at all?
Why do I think I deserve that?
Why do I tumble around with fear in my head instead of getting up and doing something about the lust that I feel?
Why can't I participate in hook-up culture?
Who would really care if I did?
Why can't I go into it imagining that I will just ignore the person I hookup with and hope that they reciprocate and ignore me so that they don't have to realize how dumb I am?
Why can't I be charismatic enough to at least have some friends with whom I have ****** relationships with and not get carried away with?
Why do I take everything so seriously?
Why do I still feel like I did seven years ago?
Why do I still have the same obsessions?
How am I so mature in some ways and so stunted in others?
How come I excel in areas of my life that I don't care about at all and I can't even come close to being successful in the ones that I really do care about?
Why does being sexually attractive mean so much to me even though I already reject girls who find me attractive?
Why am I so shallow?
Why do I question and mourn the decisions girls who I am attracted to make when I hypocritically do the exact same thing to girls who are attracted to me?
When did I become such a hypocrite?
Why am I so happy and joyous and optimistic for the people I love when I don't have what I want?
If I got what I wanted, would I just take it for granted like I do everything else and then just want more, or want something else?
Why are we so greedy?
What am I going to do with my life when my lust declines and I no longer have a humongous problem to obsess over?
Why is this problem so consuming that I can't just ignore it and try to be normal like people do, and like I usually do?
Why do all of these thoughts form during the day and then explode all over my perception at night?
Will I ever be ready to love someone?
Will I ever be ready to love someone and not be selfish?
Will I ever love someone who loves me back?
Is love just mutual ****** attraction with linguistic agreements and complacency?
Will I ever love someone who doesn't eventually hate me?
Am I made to do everything but be a romantic partner?
Is there something absolutely wrong with me that I am in denial about?
Do I seriously need to become more self-aware? I doubt it.
Will I ever be enough for someone who I want to be enough for?
Could I maybe even be more than enough?
Can I increase my worth to make these problems go away?
Do I constantly put myself in these situations and relationships to torture myself?
Will I eventually give up?
Would that be good?
Will I ever learn?
Will I ever change?
Does doing stuff like this hurt me or help me?
Does it help you?
Hopefully.
I am on a roller-coaster of fear, insecurity, loneliness, lust, and depression and I can't believe how many emotions I have.
I'm so lonely and it feels like there is nothing I can do about it.
Apr 2018 · 382
Knowing You
It tasted good only because you made it. Fear. Tragedy. Hope. Inevitability. Knowing it will all be over. Soon. The last time you see someone. The first time you see someone. The space in between. Finite. Always. The idea of a person in your mind. Forever. Always. Only sometimes on the surface. Often in the back of your mind. Forgotten for some time. Then thought about for one last time too. Tragedy. The last time you think of someone. Far away. Warmth. Blanket. Something you haven't told anyone. Saying it. Feeling like it's ok. Knowing it's ok. Knowing it's ok to be open. Opening. Breathing from the back of your mind where you don't usually go. Riveting. Rare. The moments where it is deep. Crying. Laughing. Laughing to avoid crying. Holding a box of tissues. Tears. Fear. Hope. Gratitude. Thrill. Empathy. Thinking about what to say. Not thinking about what to say. Hope. Trust. Honesty. Not having to think about what to say. Freedom. Freedom from fear. Freedom from manipulation. Freedom from judgment. Freedom from yourself. Knowing what it means to connect with someone. Knowing what it means. Gift. Blessing. Miracle. A gift nobody can take away from you. Information. Experience. Beauty. Disappearing. Disappearing, but having to have existed in the first place in order to disappear. Wonderful. Crying. Tears. Knowing what is going to happen in the future. Knowing separation is inevitable. Knowing sorrow. Knowing inevitability. Knowing what is best. Knowing what you want is not what you get. Knowing experiences. Knowing memories. Knowing closeness. Knowing warmth. Knowing fear. Knowing freedom. Knowing beauty. Knowing empathy. Knowing freedom from yourself. Knowing miracles. Knowing someone. Knowing you.
Apr 2018 · 435
Smol
Can I do you a favor?
Apr 2018 · 295
A Ride on a Ride
Once we longed for time to slow, and once we longed for time to pass,
We realized that resistance is futile.
We thought we saw our lives laid out before our eyes and we said, "It's coming. It's coming whether I want it to or not. It's coming at a constant rate whether I want it to or not. It's coming at a constant rate whether I want it to or not, and there's nothing I can do about it. It's coming whether I want it to or not, and there's nothing I can do about it because time on Earth is without our control absolutely."

And so we began. Life builds on life and the new behaviors and traditions are variations of behaviors and traditions past. So then we built schools and said, "This is your life. This is your path. This is what you want. This is the way. This is the life. It's coming."

We face challenges and run through systems and jump through hoops made by other people. Our leaders, our societies past, the powerful among us, have built systems. Whether we like them or not, we are, usually, a part of them. Go to school, go to more school or get a job. And suddenly, we are on a ride that we made that itself is on a ride that we did not make. We go through systems we made that were built within systems we did not make. We go through our processes and survive over time while we move through time. We live in time while time lives in us.

The systems we made dominate the world. And they grow. Whether we like it or not. The system and time, finite and infinite, variable and constant, controllable and uncontrollable, these are the two forces that guide us. Take what you can while reaching out the windows and although you, honestly, can get out whenever you want, both are worth staying on for. Both are worth staying on for. We share it and we always are all together. Society and time. A ride on a ride.
Mar 2018 · 236
One Hundred
We don't always get the poems that we want.
Sometimes we get the poems that we need.
Sometimes we get poems we can only read once.
Sometimes we write poems and the words bleed

Through the page or shine through the screen
Because they let us admit to ourselves we have low self-esteem
Although we have self love and it all doesn't mean,
It just lives inside us, surviving feeding on dreams

All the words I write, hundred poems I've rambled
Instead of playing more games, instead of flipping more channels,
I write these words for you in an attempt to light a candle
To ever so slightly brighten your life that you CAN handle

Poetry, words, arrangements, collections
All brought together by love and affection,
Various sorts, but the ones most prominent
Are the ones that I feel that are also ominous

Like I just want to write, and it feels sort of dark
And the words sometimes shed light by breaking my heart
And taking what I thought I knew, and then tearing that apart
But from the breaks I grow, the breaks where I make art

Although it's hardly art to me, I still sit and write
I might as well when all my other acts yield nothing, slighted.
No offense to them, but they're not always invited
To the space inside my heart because they don't yield products

More often than not, I'm just a simple consumer
Trying to amuse or numb myself with the fastest lights, sooner
And once the lights turn out, I turn off and sleep
And inside me, something really deep cries out,

It asks me, "What do you make? Who do you help?
What do you save? Where's your progress? What have you done?
Do you have any answers? Do you even have one?"
Yes. I just write poems and try to help people,
And it feels pretty good sometimes.
Mar 2018 · 1.6k
Light
Light snow. Warm blanket. Helping. Typing. Looking outside. Looking inside. Warmth. Gross. Sticky. Old. Unattractive. Alone. Looking into a window full of people who can help you. Alone. Not trusting yourself. Cars go by. Quickly. Alone. Every mind and every car. One. The life a snowflake lives as it falls. Gone. Looking into someone's eyes. Running away. Wondering what someone sees in your eyes. Wishing its what they want. Wishing its not what you think. Alone. Not trusting yourself. Hoping there's a different life ahead. Some time. Possibly in the near future. Alone. Times of feeling with other people. Together. Not trusting yourself. Lying. Rejecting. Foolishly complaining. Alone. Snowflakes moving upwards, back towards the sky, because of the wind. Unrealistic. Calm relaxing music. Fear. Alone. Not trusting yourself. Multiple voices telling you to do different things. Together. Alone. Being stuck between survival options and dying. Alone. Wanting to call out but doubting the purity of your own intentions. Knowing everyone else has a life that is not yours. Knowing everyone else has a life that is full of things they want to do. Independent. Without you mostly. Mostly wanting to not bother anyone. Alone. Not trusting yourself. Asking for help indirectly. Making sure that the person has a way to back out. Escape. Pretend they can't see what is happening. Not seeing what is happening. Not trusting yourself. Alone. The ground that looks unaffected by the snow. The ground that stays and is sometimes buried, but it always comes back. Even. Fair. Thinking about how many people feel. Thinking about what people feel. Wanting specific things. Wanting to talk to specific people. Having trouble trusting people. Not trusting yourself. Alone. Sitting. Music. Typing. Nothing. Papers. Time. Life. Together. Snow. Trust. Ground. Trees. Harm. Fear. Running. Escape. Annoy. Harass. Pretend. Turning. Playing. Focusing. Trust. Away. Fear. Together. Alone.
Mar 2018 · 168
Love being
Everything you love,
There will a time or a moment
When it is the last time you will embrace it,
By listening to it,
By playing it,
By watching it,
By saying, "I love you.",
By holding it,
Or by just loving it,
There will be one last time.

Everything you hate,
Will only torment you
One last time
Before it is gone forever.

Everything you have ever loved and will ever love
Will enter your life.
This moment is beautiful and confusing,
Fascinating and exciting,
Stimulating and challenging,
Unique and free.
Let the love be.
Feb 2018 · 164
The walk outside
I love walking outside
And hearing noises
It’s like an antidote
For all of the poison

I inject myself with
By trying to be aware
And even though the poison hurt me,
I don’t care

I’d rather be aware
Than choose to be ignorant
It’s ok some people do,
But I’m not into it

So I internalize the evil
And sometimes, I feel I live it
But when I walk outside
I’m innocent and generally riveted
I close my eyes
My friends hands me a green stick
I pocket it, extract it,
And then I start eating it

Before I know what it is,
A minty green special K bar,
Somehow my friend knew
I ate these often at my landscaping job

We’re in a big house,
Modern, lots of glass
There’s an apparent social group present
I’m hoping that I pass

The unmentioned implicit
Group initiation
People make eye contact with me and speak,
What a riveting sensation

I try to stay patient,
Sometimes standing, sometimes sitting
All the while,
Dark paranoid thoughts beginning

The longer it goes on,
The more often we switch innings
And before I get accustomed
I’m in a dark room, internally grinning

Large. Semi-spherical
Dark. Gothic.
I walk towards the center,
No longer aware of my pockets.

My heart, I’m standing near
Another person I love, who shot it
And like I once knew,
I’m overcome by the feeling, haven’t lost it

And we start dancing,
In a classical sort of way
There’s so much joy in our embrace
But all around us, dismay

I try to let it sink since
It doesn’t happen every day
And I have a creeping feeling
That it all will float away

And once the music stops playing,
She comes closer to embrace
In a hug that’s too tight,
So suddenly, my heart is racing

And I love it and I hate it
And behind her back, I’m facing
And my paranoia is back
And my colorful world is graying

How long should I be staying?
I shouldn’t ever be here!
When she finally let’s me go,
In a cloud of smoke, I disappear

I’m back in the house,
I find my friend from before,
And wonder; how are you feeling dude?
Are you not also eager to slumber?

Before I her his response,
I ironically wake up,
Taken by another nightmare
Taken by more fake love.

Are these dreams?
Or just the occasional nightmare?
These recurring scenes I tease
Myself with love I don’t have; unfair.
Feb 2018 · 313
Vortex
Can’t see
Not clear
Music and thoughts,
I can’t hear

For example, I’m lost
And full of fear.
I’m unsure of the plan
Yet it is so near

The vortex twirls me
Around with ideas
All the while,
Possessing the key of

The “right thing”
It’s hard to find
Because I’m stuck
Spinning in time

Thoughts cycling
The endless grind
Of finding what I want
And making it mine

Neither task
Is simple, sometimes
So I spin with the vortex
And we just say that it’s fine
Feb 2018 · 265
Usual
I really really love people I don’t know
When I feel tired and confused,
The feeling of love grows
Feb 2018 · 166
People
Drugs make me high
People make me higher
People who’ve tried both
Might think that I’m a liar,

But it’s a definite conclusion
No additional pondering required
People soak me in water
And set my mind on fire
Jan 2018 · 415
Empty Chest
I stare inside an empty chest
Where used to, there be such a mess
Panic, fear, urgent anxiety
To certain varieties of these drugs
I make a toast to my sobriety

A right of passage,
Was my consumption.
What I chose to do
How I chose to function
My takings of nothing and making them something
Are nowhere to be found,
Except away from me, running

What’s gone is gone
What’s mine is mine
What’s outdated and failed
For it, there’s no time
No rhyme or reason
No proper season
No excuses
Now, we’re even

This heart shaped box
Was in disguise
Though it told truths,
Now they are lies.
Truth is subjective
It’s all about time.
Mine has now changed,
How sublime!

Full of love,
Not driven by it.
No reckless outpours,
I keep it quiet.
And in my mind,
Rather than a riot,
The fog is cleared.
I’m glad I tried it.
Jan 2018 · 655
Darkness
I don't really get sad or happy
Things in my mind just either bury the darkness,
Or bring it out.

It can be vicious, but it's often not.
It simply pushes the light out of my life,
Shadowing my love, my care, my soul,
Thereby suppressing my passion.

Since I have danced with this darkness for so long,
I don't imagine that it will ever be gone.
My happiest times have been its weakest,
And my worst times, its strongest,
But the vitality that this darkness maintains inside me
Is impressive.

Despite my avoidance, my perseverance towards
Directing my thoughts towards love and pleasing others,
The darkness constantly shades my view.
I see what I love and I know what I want and what I want to do,
And it warps my simple ambitions to be selfish, toxic, and empty.

It's a never-ending battle, in some ways, but it's not really a battle.
Resistance, I have found, is futile. Distractions are welcome,
But ultimately, the darkness does not die.
In fact, when I am happy, excited, and positive,
I can feel the darkness at bat.
Waiting for my turn to be over, waiting for me to strike out
So that it can take the plate.

Realism, depression, insecurity are its allies,
Constantly giving the darkness new ideas.
New ways to distract me and sometimes, torment me.

Friends, nature, happiness, love, are its enemies.
They stun it, making the darkness forget about its goals
And letting me then forget about it, sometimes,
Those times when I'm happy. Having fun.
What I know of fun is this, essentially.

It might be that I feed it too much.
Darkness may be an attention seeking immature idiot,
Who if I ignore, would just give up. And go away.
But it's part of me, it's not some force or occasional tendency.

It's always. I am the darkness. And I am the light.
My mind is constantly moving, spinning, cycling,
With bright lights and deep darkness always dancing with me
Exciting me, frustrating me, teaching me, torturing me, loving me,
And moving me forward.

I do what I can and try to shed light,
Darkness be ******.
Jan 2018 · 377
Teething
Nothing’s simple
Nothing’s easy
Everything’s difficult
Makes me queasy

About my life
That has no meaning,
It’s often melting
And sometimes freezing

I’m growing up
Constantly teething
Emotions and logic
The toys I’m eating

Hard to swallow
I’m always leaving
Running in circles
Returning easily

From me to me,
A verbal beating
The poems, identical,
Worth deleting

Thoughts cross my mind
As long as I’m breathing
They cross each other often,
Always seething

With rage, waiting
For me to engage
Other people, hoping
That a glimpse at this face

Will brighten another one,
Start a cycle of brightness
But drawing other people in
Takes more than politeness

Who knows what it takes?
What do you need?
If I knew what it was
I’d offer it, with speed

I disagreed.
I never knew how to act first
Is it loving, caring, like I am
Or should I go with the worst

And trust this instinct I have
That everyone wants a stoic me
Everyone wants me to march in line,
Never writing poetry

Knowing I’m supposed to be
Just another staring face
Offering words selectively
And only in the right case.

That’s what some people want
Is it theirs to take?
Am I a popular vote persuasion
Meant to act how they say?

No way. I’d rather just be myself
Teething, breathing, poetry-ing
Worse for wear, but oh well.
This human is not for sale
Jan 2018 · 538
Staring at Rocks
Before staring at rocks, there was staring at fallen trees
Before fallen trees, there was sport and game
And much before that, there must have been something
To help us keep our lives wasting away

Staring at rocks, day in, day out
Nobody cries. Nobody questions
Why staring at rocks is a good way to live.
There's no good way to live, suppose that's the lesson.

Lessen and lessen until it's no more,
Or so it seems, with what we feel.
What we produce by staring at rocks,
Some fleeting pleasure, some placating meal.

Is it a big deal? Or is it not?
Shall we stare on as rocks evolve?
As the rocks evolve, will we just stop?
Will they grow on and we, grow not?

Is the rock a form of communication?
Is the rock the epitome of what we make?
What we do? What we value?
What we love? What we save?

Where's the glory? Where's the love?
What's between a bunch of rocks and I?
Where's the moment when I'll love rocks
And not hold tears back in my eyes?

Never dying, never criticizing,
Never complaining, always obedient
Manipulated entertainers,
No wonder rocks, that's where we went

Will it stop? Luddites united?
Or are the rocks the newest wheel?
They give us so much to know and process
But rocks, from you, I'll never feel
Jan 2018 · 307
Springtime
This is the springtime of your life. Don't let it go to waste. Enjoy it.
/
Does that mean do crazy?
Does that mean do whatever I want?
Does that mean take advantage of
My independence till it's gone?

Does it mean drink a lot?
Does it mean do drugs?
Does it mean charm women,
Seeking approval, chasing hugs?

Does it mean being lazy?
Should I chill and lay back
Until I work hard a couple decades,
Die later from heart attack?

Does it mean act reckless?
Is it yolo swag **** everything else?
Form a youthful reckless checklist
Do what I want, never help?

Should I follow my heart,
Even if it's a lustful disaster?
People who have the most fun,
Are they now my masters?

Do I follow them?
Do I go out and party?
Is it safe?
Should I black out every other night? Hardly.

Is it do what I think is best?
Is that really fun?
Grades and help for everyone else,
Continuing from where I'd begun.

Is it autopilot?
Is that what I keep maintaining?
Do I ask a ton of questions?
My intellect, always straining?

Does that count?
Does that make it count?
If I overthink everything,
Can my happiness reach an amount

Where I look back, look down
Sit upon a couch
And say, ****, that was fun
Time to retire and sell out

To the American Adult dream
Slowly crawling to the grave
At least I had fun then,
At least by memories, I'm saved.

I caved, I lost it,
I'm not a normal college kid.
I'm on a ride, on my mind,
In my life, but listen,

It's a blast, it *****
All of the wasted contemplating
But it beats blacking out,
Complaining, rebelling, and hating.

Here I am, patient
Looking forward to dating.
Self-centered, prideful,
Centralized around mating.

And it's cool, not bad,
I'll still grow up and look back,
"This is the springtime of your life.
Do what you want, no going back."
Dec 2017 · 322
Cold Air
Can’t think.
Can’t speak.
Fears and insecurities
Make my mind weak.

Tumbled out
Of my selfish vision.
Looked around,
No precision.

Aimless goals
Selfish giving
Lost in translation,
The love is missing.

A promised life
My only fantasy
I love you
And you love me.

Is that how
It’s going to be?
Is this how
It’s going to be

Constant chaos
No balance
No days off
Prison palace

All that I want
No prices.
Distractions from me
My only vices.

No escape.
I can’t run.
Unmet needs
Leaving one

Or two or three
People who love me.
I love you too,
But who should I be?

The one who gets loved
And serves for thee,
Or the selfish one
Who wants to be

Even better
Than I am now.
Happiness seeking?
A huge let down

Take my life
Spread it out.
Broken hearted
Loosely mouthed.

I’m living here
Always right now
Always afraid
I won’t figure it out.
Dec 2017 · 252
Loving this
I don’t do everything right,
I don’t even come close
I just get to life a blessed life
Way more fortunate than most

I can’t believe the roads I’ve taken
Enable me to find myself.
I can’t believe how much love I’ve awakened
In addition to love that’s been in me since before I could spell.

My life is so generous
My life is not without pain
But I’m lucky enough to be able to think
And learn so much and thus, from my suffering, gain.

I won’t ever go back to trying to conform
I might even abandon the thought of being sane
What a great way to avoid all the people
I don’t want to speak to, like, not that I’m saying

I’m better than them, because I’m truly not
But with nice conformers, I tend to get bored,
The truth is my favorites so far have bad qualities
But I love them for them and I never feel bored

And I try to explore them and anyone open
Enough to show me what’s happening inside
And for people who’s lives have taught them to have caution
I understand there are many reasons to hide

But before I die, one of my selfish missions
Is to go all out and be a total freak
And despite the repercussions of loving the weird stuff,
I’ll be a magnet for people who’re unique

I aspire to help them, aspire to amuse,
Aspire to connect, aspire to obtain
So many beliefs and opinions from others
That there’s no way I won’t be a contradictory freak

Opposing viewpoints, I already have many
And in some ways, then, I am becoming nothing
I want to embrace both sides of many passions
And in the passion pit, I’ll come out dressed as something

Amorphous, accepting, and hopefully helpful
Since I live to serve and I live to entertain
And if nothing else, I’ll keep building and building,
Overthinking thoughts just to muddle my brain

And I’m blessed for a million reasons, ****** for none,
No more ****** than the luckiest guy
I’m free and I love you and I’m so imperfect
And I don’t care, thank you, nothing really to hide
Dec 2017 · 201
Fake Sick
The look upon their faces are happy
And I reflect, dreadfully failing.
My sadness leaks and overflows
For their bright hearts, I’ll be a railing

Should my darkness infest another’s
Wonderful pleasant perfect light,
I would flee, my heart smothered
By having done what I see as right

Bare my heart? Share my thoughts?
And ruin other people’s day?
Or let their lives go on, in time,
Revealing myself to scare them away?

Either option keeps them safe
From experiencing my disease.
It’s not lethal, it doesn’t even harm
The trunk of the recipient’s lovely tree.

Rather, it’s a time muncher,
This disease I sometimes spread
Contracted by being attractive,
Making me wish I controlled my head.

Sorrow, I take vitamins always
Trying to make myself contained
But real life happens, something sparks
And from life, I can’t get away

Willingly spreading, sneezing in faces
I’m bewilderingly advised to do.
Would anyone really drink my snot?
If you were me, would you achoo?

Or would you hide in a little corner
Making yourself a little life,
Being depressed but loving yourself
Enough to avoid harming the knife?

Life! Aren’t they all better without me?
Could I really make someone’s day?
Well, if I did, it’d soon go awry
Once my starving heart scared them away

I’m not low key, I’m not even calm,
I don’t even know what there is to life.
I feel attractions. I do things sometimes.
What a beautiful mindless spite.

Holding back my feral sneezes.
Resisting germs that come my way.
I stand strong, thank yous and pleases
Wanting more, constantly amazed.

I see people, they are so happy.
Please, continue being thus.
I’m in the corner, always laughing.
Avoid disease, love is my trust.
Dec 2017 · 197
Twisted Toxic Machine
I’ve made something that is perfect.
Mistakes I’ve made, hearts I’ve broken,
It’s not my desire, it’s not been worth it
This twisted toxic machine has chosen

To refuse all corrections
And to make any new updates
I’d bash its head in, if I could,
But it’s not really my fate

I wish it weren’t, I’ll overcome it
But foolishly, it trundles on
Taking hope and opportunity
And leaving or making them gone.
Dec 2017 · 989
Grocery Store/Crazy
Full cart
Forgotten wallet
Poetic justice
Minimal profit

Nothing purchased
Nothing gained
Small wonder
I remain sane

I’ve grown up in grocery stores
Admiring their hearty stock
In my story, the constant lore
Is stable silence followed by rock

So loud, and yet so quiet
Mind spinning, logic ignored
Emotions twirling, guiding, lying,
What is my hungry heart for?

Amongst shoppers, I am a dreamer
Amongst haves, I am have not.
The silent soldiers fighting a war
Against the accumulating ***

Obsessive comes close to scratching
What my mind is like when nervous
I want what I want, so I’m asking
And asking has thus far, been worthless

If only love that eludes my grasp
Were but a loaded shopping cart
I’d run to my apartment and run back
My happiness, some cold pop tarts.

Alas, the vitality I seek,
The stimulant that’s most stimulating
It makes me dumb, it makes me weak,
And requires calculated manipulating

Of which I am not capable,
Or at least, strongly averted from.
To myself, I remaiin faithful
Even though I am so dumb.

Muster up a little patience,
Muscle up, shut up, be a man.
Mysterious mature, that’s the cadence
That’s the gold standard panned.

I glimpse it, from time to time
Across the colored movie screen.
These men succeed and I often fail,
But what does my own failure mean?

Is it me? Or is it them?
Or am I close, but not quite there?
Will my fatigue be what makes me
Depressed enough to seem like I don’t care

So my annoyingness, gone, in thin air?
So my emotional longings will be bare?
So into eyes I could finally stare
And not always ask, what’s in there?

What do you see, looking at me?
I never know, until I’ve chosen
To let my selfish heart unleash
Until it’s finally cracked wide open

Until you see me as I’ve chosen
To see myself, full of erosion
Wasted space, a dreadful ocean
Of empty thoughts and rugged lotion.

Talking so much, never saying.
Giving so much, never reaping.
Sleeping so much, never dreaming.
Running so much, never leaving.

Chasing so much, only finding
What I’ve found is not astounding
My horrible mind, abandoning reality
Leaving everyone once they’ve found me.

Refusing life rafts while I’m drowning,
Breathing in water, heart is pounding,
Self inflicted, always counting,
Choosing pain, refusing mouthpiece.

Loving so much, never caring.
Caring so much, never sharing.
Sharing so much, never connecting.
Making connections, shortly empty.

Meditating so much, never praying.
Laying so much, making me lazy.
Letting my emotions control me so much,
I’m selfish, never learning, never changing, crazy.
Nov 2017 · 915
Life Enhancer
People run and cower
From the true answer.
Drugs possess strange power,
They're life enhancers.

Countless hours,
Broken dancers,
Life turned sour,
Lost luck chances.

Drugs are riveting,
Minds are opened,
Perspectives pivoting,
Instincts awoken

What's never listed
And never spoken
Suddenly, it's tossed
Into the ocean

Of our minds,
Swirling potions,
Drugs are not kind,
Changing emotions.

People take
This strong control
And in some cases,
Their sole goal

Becomes a fate
Many people know.
All they seek
Is this control.

Pursuing control,
Many live by this.
Drugs and their tolls
Help provide bliss.

Control over what you feel,
Opened eyes and comforted minds,
People accept this generous deal,
Despite the consequences felt over time.

Manipulating drugs,
A victimless crime,
Claims users as victims,
At once or over time.

The effects can wow,
They can be sublime.
They make life better now,
But not over time.

Tolerance grows,
Excitement fades,
People become dazed,
Over time.

People take them,
Wrong or right,
To their extremes,
To maximize delight.

Excessive consumption,
Across a fine line,
Promises great risk,
To which many are blind.

Dismissing the truth
And hating the source
Is a just move,
But not a wise course.

Life enhancers,
Life ruiners,
They're one in the same
Though many choosers,

Either love drugs,
Or deeply hate them.
Arguments against either side,
Are sadly wasted.

Both sides
Reveal so much,
Like heat and cold,
They hurt to touch.

I love pleasure,
Oh so much,
But excess pleasure,
Fear is made of.

Within drug feelings
Lie sensations
Which contradict
Any meditations.

Why would I live,
With such a bore,
When I could be high
And get so much more?

Would would I fly
On drug fueled planes,
When normal plights
Offer so much to gain?

It's not as instant,
It's not as strong
But patient wishes
Last so much longer.

There's only one,
And what I choose
Goes in my body,
Is mine to prove.

Something exciting,
Something new,
Never hiding,
Wild and blue.

So if these drugs
Are life enhancers,
Can we demonize them?
Can this seed be planted?

Will we all become
Clear eyed and sober,
Thankful the drug storm,
Is finally over?

Take what's good,
Take what's evil,
All that we could
Derive from people.

Make the solution
Into a new mix
And maybe then,
We find a fix.

The danger they feel,
The societal death wish,
May die sooner,
If only we listen.

Give people things
They wish for,
But remove the danger,
And once this chore,

Is taken care of,
Harmful no more,
Drugs can be loved
Without the horror.

The powers at play
Are beyond what I know,
But this civil war,
Hopefully will slow
Nov 2017 · 407
Community
You call it love
I call it desire
You call it conformity
I call it fire

Spreading around
Placating desire
Drowning and burning
In the fire

You call it hate
I call it control
You call it loneliness
I call it soul

What’s gone is gone
From your control
What’s hated is fine,
It’s eating your soul.

You call it music
I call it life
You call it truth
I call it the knife

That cuts the deepest
Not wrong or right,
It takes what’s darkest
And brings it to light.

You call it wise
I call it aware
You call it prizes
I call it sharing

What we value,
What we prove.
If we value objects,
We’ll never lose.

You call them things,
I call them nothing.
You call them wings
I call them suffering

Flying high
Above the rest,
Where is everyone?
Is this the test

You choose to pass
By looking down?

From start to finish,
We prowl the ground
Amongst ourselves
Safe and sound
Looking for love
Looking around
Nov 2017 · 188
Supposed
What am I supposed to do?
What am I supposed to do?
What am I supposed to do?
What am I supposed to do?

What do I do now?
What do I do now?
What do I do now?
What do I do now?

Is it what I want?
Is it what everyone expect?
Should I pull a stunt
And do what people won’t ever forget?

Is it time to run away?
Is it time to give in?
Is it time to take a day
To take some time for riddence?

Are my feelings hidden?
Is my heart upon my sleeve?
Do people see me and know
That I’m taken by the given

Out of control thoughts,
Pointless wasted endeavors
My mind is on a big trip
It’s always storming, that’s the weather

Am I worthy of this life?
Am I worthy of this life?
Am I worthy of this life?
Am I worthy of this life?

Is what I want really right?
Is what I want really right?
Is what I want really right?
Is what I want really right?
Nov 2017 · 2.5k
Feather
You’d like if I was a rock,
You want me to act all hard
Not capable of shock,
Stable, strong, and without scars

I’m not that heavy
I’m not even tethered
To the ground beneath my feet
Instead I fly like a feather

Fly like a feather,
Up in the sky
Falling victim to the weather
Yeah all day and night, I fly like a feather
Fly like a feather

We all get caught up
In various places
Wearing various faces
Inside various races
Racing to the day
When we finally come face to face
With what we want until we have it
And we wear it as a bracelet
But once you get the bracelet,
Soon you’ll want the necklace
And soon you’ll have a checklist
And soon you’ll go out reckless
And drop all that you have
Until you get the cracked message
That your enemies are headless
Fallen victim to your leverage.
Can I get a beverage?
I’m way too thirsty
I’m a feather in a whirlwind
And all of this wind is whirling
I don’t know what I want
And I want what I can’t control
And I’m admitting it, for once,
That I have many shallow goals
And all of my real goals
Don’t really reach to my soul
I have this beautiful life I stole
Smiling faces, honor role,
But when I’m faced with a storm
Of someone whose wonder I can’t code
Then my mind short circuits
And it’s stuck on flying and rolling

Like a feather
Up in the sky
Falling victim to the weather
Yeah all day and all night, I fly like a feather
Like a feather

What everybody wants from me,
Would that make my life so much better?
Should I try to soak up some water
To make myself a bit wetter
So I can shiver and die
In this cold harsh reality
Instead of daring to keep flying
To keep everyone else without me?
I’m doubting my reasons
My instinctive seasons
That command, keep marching
That command keep bleeding
Out your heart, mind, and soul
Even though it’s so shallow
But sometimes shallow runs deep
When your mind stuck in the shadow
Of your dreams, dreams manipulated by hormones
I’m stuck in fantasies of wanting to not be alone
But there’s attraction involved
And my problem is not solved
Should I go for what I want
Or leave this issue unresolved?
Well, I tried pursuing girls, twice I succeeded
But to sum it up mildly,
My progress was deleted
And my good intentions,
Well, those were defeated
And I got what I deserved
Because I’m chuck full of weakness.
Dreamless, I moved back to isolation
Where I was told how to act
And told to just be patient
But I’m not a monk
And I’m not yet muted
So when I meet a cute girl
My final thesis is proven,

I just fly like a feather
Up in the sky
Falling victim to the weather
Yeah, all day and all night I fly like a feather
I fly like a light feather

What’s better,
Acting normal until you and me are together
Or expressing myself explicitly and making you not get hurt
By showing you how I’m thirsty
Sending texts and writing letters?
Let me know what you prefer
Don’t make this choice subjective.
I’m in your storm, I’m moved by your beauty
It’s the rain and the wind,
The appearance and intelligence
I want this and I turn you away
I can’t escape, I love every day
In my mind there’s nothing,
But there’s so much to say
I don’t think when you fly me,
You just whisk me away
And I’m never worried here
In this storm, this blessing,
Why are my words smart?
Why are my words jesting?
Is this manipulation,
Am I treating you right?
Can I ask more questions
Is this the day before the night?
Is this the light to the dark,
The storm before the calmness
Of the upcoming loneliness
I’ll feel when you don’t return my call?
When your storm stops and never comes again at all?
Well, like, I said, I might want to be a stone,
So once your storm’s done, fine,
I’ll be a feather alone
Until again I’m a feather blown
So light, so free,
So without any control
This is all I’ll ever be!

I fly like a feather
Up in the sky
Falling victim to the weather
All day and all night I fly like a feather
Fly like a feather

I wish we could be together
Up in the sky
Having love, making weather
All day and all night, whether wrong or whether right,
I fly like a feather
Nov 2017 · 450
You and I
Look how they fight
Look how they search
Look how they bite
Look how they work

See how they’re just
See how they’re bold
See how they lust
See how they’re told

Always, what to do
Always what to think
Always what to love
Always what to drink.

Cry for their pain
Cry for their resistance
Cry for their strain
Cry when they listen

To all of the prophets
Who, while self-elected,
Have totally lost it
And ought to be rejected.

Forgive their mistakes
Forgive their desires
Forgive their brisk fates
Forgive their bright fires

Love them with pride
Love them with understanding
Love with no guide
Love with no planning

See how they cower
See how they soar
Hour by hour,
They always want more

Look how they fly
Look how they run
Look how they try
Look at everyone
Nov 2017 · 180
Twisting
Instead of speaking up,
I usually speak down
Unless I get excited and
I share ideas like a clown

With my arms flailing
Physically because I’m enthused
And metaphorically grasping
For someone else to not lose

More interest in me
Even though I deviate a lot
From the societal norms
That confine many in a little box

**** that little box
People talk a lot without sharing
But I’m the key to the lock
So I’m freaking out without caring

Until I turn the lights out
And my phone buzzes for Candy Crush
But there’s nobody’s messages on that list
Because I didn’t barter love

The products I offer
Are insufficient for my needs
So obviously I need some lessons
On how to calm down; smoke ****,

Don’t read books, don’t
Develop imagination
Watch tv, scroll Facebook,
Be patient and wait for your whole life

For something around the corner
Until you’re waiting and your impulses
Drive you into lonely streets
Lamenting your losses

Looking for stimulation
Constantly checking the phone
Until I stop and look around
I’m lost, I don’t know how I’ve grown
Nov 2017 · 157
Output
All of the words I say push people away
More nails in more coffins every day
Words out of my mouth tainted with tooth decay
Flying through the air, grinding, I ruminate

Playful commentary sans meaning
Meaning to be playful, sounding freezing
Seeing people playful, pleasing easily
Wishing perfect people could be me

Moment in the spotlight
Moment turns out not right
Hoping for an assist or a solution
Trying to be winning, feeling losing
Nov 2017 · 270
Purchasing Exchange
When you walk into a little store
And spend some money on an item
If somebody gladly does this chore,
Does that mean that you should then like them?

Are their eyes a clever trap
That advertises their workplace?
Are they making you come back
By placing a smile on your face?

Can a stranger enjoy providing to
Someone who’s manipulating their skill?
For them, this kindness may not be new.
It might be their simple natural will.

Is kindness born of gratitude?
Are workers grateful to their flock?
Are jokes common and blank stares few?
Is this unique or is it not?

Am I worthy of this kindness
Or have I stolen offered grace
By acting like a normal person
And going to a normal place?
Oct 2017 · 459
Food Coloring
I.
Why must my selfish, lustful, counterproductive desires interfere with my capability and passion to help others?
I have abundance of selfish desires...I might even go as far as saying I am "selfish" or "self-centered".
However, my desires fall in one of two dire categories...Those that I want, but are out of my control, and those that are useless or mildly productive at best.
Video games? Relationships? Approval?...Do these make me stronger? Will I be able to help more people this way?

II.
What else is there other than assistance? Is that the most accessible form of love, is that the only selfish reason I want to help people?
Can I really internalize the fact that helping others makes at least two lives better (myself and whoever I help) and the additional fact that doing things for myself is worthless? How much do I need to relax? Why can't I help people and then help some more and sell my video games and donate my blankets?

III.
Do I owe it to myself to purify my actions and devote my life to service? Or am I an unnecessary element who should serve in a minimal way while simultaneously indulging in nothingness and desperation for love? The dangers of temptation haunt me because if I ever get what I want, it will make my life so much worse and I'll be so much more useless since my desperation will probably consume me and I'll waste my time stimulating myself behind closed doors and I won't really be helping anybody except for myself.

IV.
Take your time. Help in moderation. Let me walk in the street and please don't run me over. I feel good. I don't want what I want but I do want whatever melancholic love concoction I have brewed in my mind where ideas boil and the base liquid of selfishness is made wholesome by the distributive food coloring of love.
Oct 2017 · 381
Grow
I see you now,
You always go.
All I ask,
Continue to grow!

Of good and bad,
I’ve much to learn.
But there’s good in you,
This I know.

The molecules around,
When you speak,
Come together,
And start to glow.

You’re wondrous words,
Always well sewn.
It’s such a gift,
Your fabric flow.

I always laugh,
You always know.
I can’t hold back,
My cover’s blown.

You try so hard,
You’ve made it known.
You’ve come so far,
It’s so well toned!

This character
You’ve fought to make
For whom you’ve had
To give and take

And at times,
You’re bent to break!
But you hang out
And make fate wait.

Powering through,
Commiting choicely.
What’s old is new
When you’re rejoicing

Of gifts of life!
You see so many,
And when you present,
They’re never ending.

What once was mild,
You revitalize
And for old subjects,
I have new eyes.

Thank you.
I always know
Everything I do
Might be the dough

That you can take
And make more pizzas
For the whole world
To love and eat some!

Never stop
Sharing your gifts,
Don’t doubt your skill.
Don’t doubt your wit.

It’s always worth
A contribution
For conversations,
You’re evolution.

It’s not all good,
But I am biased.
So despite this
Treasured alliance,

I’ll confess to you,
I think you’re perfect.
Not flawless,
But the flaws are worth it.

For when your flaws
Meet your traits,
It’s such an awesome
Wondrous way.

Of good and bad,
I don’t know much.
But continue to grow!
And always love.
Oct 2017 · 177
Dip
Dip
Bodies of water,
Within my grip
No reason to not
Take a dip.

No full submergence,
Just the fingers.
This is learning
Without stingers.

No pain required,
No remorse needed.
Embarrassed and tired,
But not depleted.

On the road
To being needed,
What is owed
Is what I’ll feed this.

5 fingers
Testing waters
Bridging channels
Being modern
Oct 2017 · 164
Animal
Overcome by hideous greed
Blinded to my wonderful life
Only wanting what I don’t need
At at the expense of probable strife!

To control my own instincts,
To overthrow my animosity
This would be all I need, I think,
But this is a calling for generosity.

There’s positively no way to evade
Those instincts I’m meant to overcome
Either by placation or by complacance
Though neither easily to me come
Oct 2017 · 249
Mountain Top
Instead of wrestling around here
And chasing my dreams and fleeing from fears
Maybe I'll run out of breath and stop
At a high altitude mountain top.

Maybe instead of stockpiled art
And information, and all these parts,
I can clear my mind for a long time
And work through the stigma in my mind.

The fears, though all are self-inflicted,
Also can name society as their derivative.
What do they think, what will they think,
Will I ever escape society's brink?

Etc...before me, such a plethora
Of options of routes to go down.
And they are just detours along the walk
That many people tread, and very few balk.

Should I trudge on? Should I sulk?
Smiling so much, acting so false?
Or should I just go on and take it all off?
And seek my own personal mountain top?

There's too much invested, too much to lose
But who knows what's worth keeping.
Everyday, I put on my shoes,
And my heart keeps on beating.
Oct 2017 · 215
Sonic Boom/Hard Wired
Loud sound, ears ringing
Throat closed, birds singing.
Sun shining, mind spinning,
Emotion losing, logic winning.

Blown away are the stares
Blown away is all the distance.
Blown away, forever lost
Not once willing to make an appearance.

All that’s left is what’s hard wired
Hard wired pity, hard wired fear.
What I thought wasn’t hard wired
After the bomb, is still right here.

All the praise, condescending.
All the gestures, soon reneged.
All the fears, confirmed and waiting.
To surface again, like fallen twigs

Raining down upon my head
Obscuring my clear view of the sky.
For all of the pain, there’s now a reason.
Such shock, no need to wonder why.
Oct 2017 · 213
Barrel
Looking down the barrel
Of a young adult *** life
Peril is apparent
As I spend another lone night.

Dodging gunshots,
And other times, looking for shooters.
Searching for the right moment
To escape this life of a loser.

That I might get shot one day
Is a topic of which I fantasize.
But how come I’m obsessed with this,
Yet I possess a special pride

For restricting what I have inside
And choosing to hide it away?
Make sense of this I’ve tried and tried
And it all depends on the day

Because in one hour,
I’m so glad I’m independent
And then later on,
I’ll be searching for a weapon

To come fire it’s ammunition
Of lust upon my rosy face.
It’s so built up, it’s the first time,
I’ll always know the time and place.

It’s so sought after yet so feared,
And in the end, contrarily,
I’ll just say, “is that all there is?”
And go on my solo merry way.

I’ll always see another day
And have my emotion-fueled goals.
Sensations are so stimulating,
Yet they’re so far beyond control.

So as I stare down this supposed barrel,
Defying stats by not yet being shot,
I question myself and my appearal,
And wonder to change what I've got.

Once I’m wounded forever more,
Will I love what’s new and lament what’s killed?
These sensations, I know what they’re for.
It’s nothing, I maintain with my will.

All the sensation, all this ammo,
That may or may not taint my breast,
It’s all abiotic, it’s all arbitrary,
And all it offers is a test!

Will I obsess over a barrel,
Or any other form of fire,
When what matters infinitely more
Is who is there and whose it’s guider?

Alas, it’s like a fancy food
Of which I’ll never have a taste.
For although I may one day taste this barrel,
In my heart, there’s not a place.

The trigger-puller will certainly matter,
As will any who shoot at me.
I love people, not acts or stimuli.
From fear of this barrel, I am free.
Oct 2017 · 316
Looking Up
The closest I know to you is me,
For even me, I hardly know.
Getting to know you is such a treat,
This is a goal I’ll never let go

Of, all that I have seen
Within myself and within you,
There’s so much that is functional and meaningless
And little that is pure of truth.

I wear these clothes so we like me.
I exercise so we like me.
I write these poems so we like me.
I sing songs so that we like me.

I shave to get us to be less scared.
I try to be calm to make us less scared.
I try to be normal so we’re less scared.
I am honest so we’re less scared.

I love openly to show us me.
I spill my fears to show us me.
I chant my dreams to show us me.
I don’t show too much to show us me.

I unleash my kindness so we give me a chance.
I walk the line so we give me a chance.
I pretend I don’t love you so we can give me a chance.
I pretend I’m normal so we can give me a chance.

I’m not frustrated with isolation
All people includes me.
All your fears of me, I share.
All your fears you do not speak.

Everything that holds you back,
I also feel, and it keeps me
Also from loving myself deeper
And allowing me to feel complete.

As I approach the distant truth,
I see that you and I are the same.
Always hoping, always playing
The sampling social heartfelt game.
Sep 2017 · 293
Two
Two
Everything I say or do
Is a contradiction
Every time I craft a truth,
It's a work of fiction.

Right when I learn who I am
Is when I misplace myself.
Right when my self is stable
Is when I fall off the top shelf.

Right when I am confident,
I become a scared little boy.
Right when I'm a wholesome noble,
I'm ****** into a dark ****** void.

Right when I'm valued and happy
I'm alone with none around.
Right when I'm completely lost
I find a simple lost and found

Sign. I take it with me
And bare it across my chest.
I'm lost and found! At the same time!
I'm simply a clearly labeled mess.

I never know what will come next,
I've not seen a creature more amorphous.
Maleable beyond comprehension
Walking through a flourished forest.
Sep 2017 · 414
Lake
Rippling water. Perfect. Distance. Better. Beautiful. Fading. Circle. Incomplete circle with one arc missing. Beautiful. Fading. Waving. Riding a wave until its demise. Lying. Relaxing. Waving. Crashing. Immediate imperfection. Distance. A perfect sight from a distance. Initial chaos. Organization. Life. Traveling. Riding. Dying. Terminating. Repeating. Rippling. Cold water.
Sep 2017 · 603
Swimmers
There comes a point when one hot tub
Becomes too much and it's just so,
That anyone in must get out
And cool off before the overload.

Fools fastidiously test their fingers
To determine their further actions.
This is because they might be scared
Of heat, or of an overreaction.

Finger dipping won't be judged
Or looked upon more than at once.
And then the dipper may either shrug
And walk away, or take more chance.

But as it very often goes,
From all the dippers I have seen,
The fingers tell the nervous system
To go on and pursue safer dreams.

But should you dip your whole leg in,
Or your whole arm, or your whole self
This not only a greater risk
On your own body, but on everyone else!

Everyone else may judge variously
And hold the grudge and not forget
Because those who act in minority
Are expected to soon regret

Not walking the narrow line
And not living with expectations.
These expectations, they defy,
And then they may face isolation.

The body submergers, fearless divers
May contradict cultural beliefs.
But it is they who act with truth
That are granted, at night, better sleep.

Swimming pools, hot tubs,
Bath tubs, and ice baths.
Walk around and in my eyes,
Their water's not the right path!

Water makes me, water heals me,
Water let's me live more days.
Water taunts me, water dances
And then water washed away!

Should I dip my toes most places,
So often the story goes
Full of fear, I'm not complacent
With the temperature, so then I know

That it is time to walk away
And seek another body to enter.
At times, when bodies enter me,
I often feel their entrance then hurts!

It's either one way or the other,
A quick dip or a thorough swim.
And whether or not I like the swimmer,
Their endurance is a simple whim.

In the pool, they may frolic,
In the pool, they may be joyous.
That's until another water
Proves to be slightly more buoyant!

Slightly easier to navigate,
With more salt, the swimmers float!
Fresh water is such a drag,
So in the oceanic, swimmers go.

Day after day, swimming or hosting,
The water bodies keep swimming on
And ultimately, in this sense,
There's equality in this song!

Despite wanting to participate more,
Despite feeling like poison water,
I'm just a pool among the others
And my water's all I have to offer.
It's just about abandonment and being social.
Sep 2017 · 185
Virginity Proclamation
I'm a ****** now and
Imma be one for a long time
If somebody wants my ***,
They'll need to stay online

And visit my website
And check out my mind-state
This is a deterrent,
But I will certainly wait

Because I'm vulnerable
And eye contact shatters me
So if someone ***** and dumps me,
I'd be overreacting

Laughing now, I used to hope
I'd match those numbers.
I wonder, can I try to
Match those hundreds

Of thousands of people
Who act so promiscuous
Because deep down,
They just want to be kissed?

Needless to say,
I'm unable to react as such
I can't get away
From my double-edged self love

If I compromise it,
Then I'll compromise my principles
And now I'm on the other edge
Where I'm loving self like an imbecile

My tastes are uncommon
And my shape is unnatural.
I'm the main sculptor,
But every looks down

On my work, they don't
Understand the meaning.
I'm just a low-brow joke
And underneath, I'm just seething

And hoping my life
Might someday have more meaning
To all of these other people
Who get off on watching tv

More than they do watching me
Make a fool of myself daily,
Maybe, I'll be a ******
Till I'm at the age of eighty

And then I'd say ok,
Time to hit vegas
Time to try this thing out,
Time to betray this

Classical morality
That makes my life better,
Not in terms of practicality,
But at least it makes my head work

There's a big network
Of rules I try to live by,
But they've made me miserable,
But I'll continue with them lest I

Become too far gone,
Too ***** to manage,
And then, I'll behave like
I was brought up managed.

But today, I've lost my mind
And I'm picking up the pieces.
Am I doing this to change them
Or are they all that's left to be with?
Sep 2017 · 153
Lost walk
Life should come with
A set of rule for the ******* outcasts
Like me, I'm walking
In the night with my mind trashed

Music mumbles modify
How I'm perceived by others
This is the real me
And also see me like this but worse

At least in the streets,
I can show my true colors
Not a smart nice guy,
But a lonely pathetic lover

It's not worth the ruse
Since everyone sees past it
I should just quit it
And start bringing out my assets

I can feel bad for me,
I can do music,
I can write words down
And I always try to prove it

But that's just online
So far from the real me
Now I'm just convinced
That I'm lost in my poetry

Every poem's unresolved
Just like my understanding
Of who I am and what I'm want,
This life's a crash landing

I built the plane midair,
I love it, and now it's crashing
Thank god I'm sole passenger
So nobody else I'm dragging

At this point, I'm convinced
The birds flew by that knew me best
Were right when they said *******
And leave me alone for the rest

Of my lovely life,
don't poison it, toxic
Unrelenting loser!
Ok, stop, I've got it.

Everyone else
Must just see my failings
Because they try a sample
And their expression never fails me

It's always slightly disgusted,
Looking for the nearest exit
And if people like me,
They take my heart to break it

Simple kindness touches me
And I cry over acknowledgement.
Somewhat cuz I love it,
And also because I'm lost in

The thought that they want me,
And then they're going to leave me
Just hurry up and leave me
Abandon me freely

Any sign of trust
Won't be taken with a grain of salt
This doesn't matter much
But I'd do anything to take it all

Treat me like a human being
Friend, I'm addicted
It only takes one or two words
And I'm in the clouds, lifted.

That's why I walk at night
Can't sit at home, Netflix
I just walk around obnoxiously
Hoping I'm somehow destined

To find fulfillment outside,
Amongst the lovely people.
Stop judging me, want me,
And I might stop turning evil.
Sep 2017 · 356
Art Dream
There's only enough time for one art.
One song, one movie, one painting, one heartbreak, one true love, one religion, and one moment, right now.

When you try to take more than one, and stuff them in your box inside your head, it gets full and unorganized.

The only form of art I know is seeing one person's hand. Not their physical hand, but just that outline, just that shape.
That symbol, with five little peninsulas
Sticking out from a big quadrilateral.

There's art that speaks to life in so many ways, and that's all there is.
It's all a variation on the beauty life offers.
And then, I see the hand in my mind.
Like a label, like a brand that we all subscribe to.
It says this is me, this is mine, and it's for you.
I made art, and it's from me.
Take it and let it sprint through your mind
And it'll run its hands along the walls
And try to make a mess before it leaves,
Unless it becomes one of your arts too.

Last night in my dream, in my room where I vandalized the walls with my words,
While I was sleeping,
People broke into my dream bedroom
And wrote all over the walls.

They drew pictures and drawings
And none of it made sense to me,
But I loved it.

Please keep breaking into my dreams
And decorating my mind with you.
Anyone. That makes my dreams come true.
I wrote part of this poem in my sleep, so I finished it when I woke up.
Sep 2017 · 317
Emotion Gun
Oftentimes I have looked down my sight
And fired a shot, my aim just right.
Instantly, it becomes clear I was wrong.
My recoil wrecked my aim, so far gone.

It was then so, that I missed my mark.
Not by a few inches, but by a few yards.
I wasn't even close! But now I will start
To learn to control what lies in my heart.

To fire a shot requires precision
But one must also have a delicate grip
You must make your aim, but then stop and listen,
Close your fingers, don't let the aim slip!

Stay true to the target, don't lose sight.
It's true if it's you and if it's you, it's right.
It's wrong to lose control, the shot backfires,
And off will it go, into the mire.

Find the right balance, make the grip good.
Hold on loosely, as one always should.
Let the shot flow, even so slowly.
In this moment, your heart will sing nobly.
Sep 2017 · 165
Stuck
Every second, life is ending
The credits roll for the past.
Every second is a rebirth
And it's the opening scene
For the rest of your life.
I'm jealous of people who
Have everything I ******* want.
I'm scared to find it and
They have it, and it ******* *****.

I'm scared to talk to someone
Knowing I might bother them.
They might wrongly trust me and
Then be the muse for my pen.

They might love me, then
I might really ignore them.
They might hate me
And try to make me get more depressed.

People walk around
Knowing what it is they're carrying
Meanwhile, spiraling
Negative thoughts I'm burying

Inside my lines of poetry,
This is another grave
Addition to my graveyard
Don't try to make me saved

If you extend an olive branch
I might be to quick to grab
You might fall into the pit
Misery, my bad.

I want something more than this,
Something that I never had.
Control in relationship,
Control more than my sketch pad.

I want to control more than
Just one sack of bones and meat.
Take a seat for dinner and
Get asked questions, that's a treat.

Better learn to sell myself
And conceal something really neat
That I'll show you later
If you follow my misleading lead.

I can't walk around no more,
I cannot think straight.
When I walk in public now,
All I really do is wait

Patiently for my feet
To escort me to paradise.
Silence in my ******* head,
That would be really nice.

But I better think twice,
Crazy thoughts are all I have.
Surface level love too,
But that's basically bad.

People walk all over me,
My love is submissive.
I want to be really free,
My views of life are twisted.

I thought and I still believe
Be yourself and stay true.
But if you don't get anything?
That presents an issue.

I can't talk to other people,
The self I love is buried deep.
When I try to sell and get laughed at,
Makes me want to go to sleep.

For a very long time,
Wake up when this life is mine.
I possess nothing,
I witness countless crimes.

People have so much to lose,
They still throw it all away.
I'm a prime example,
Arrest me and lock me away.

I almost lost it today
And likely the day before.
I shouldn't walk around campus,
I shouldn't go to grocery stores.

I should sit in my room
And write poems like I'm doing now.
Digging deeper in the hole,
That's a waste of life's power.

Listen every second
When life offers you advice,
Turn around and don't listen,
Toss tickets to paradise.

Take tickets to go and ride
Emotional roller coasters,
All the while your happiness
Sits on a bench until it's over.

I'm a huge emotion shower
And a huge attention grabber
I hope that my bright clothes
Win me friends and make me happier.

My results aren't noteworthy,
My findings are minimal.
I might wrap it up, hurry,
and quit being subliminal.

All of my poems are the same.
Walls and walls of angry text.
All my poems are really saying,
I'm jealous of people who have ***.
Next page