These ***** ****** they want to **** me with their devil horns, probably because I'm above the norm, or maybe just because I'm normal. I'm always invited to the party, but it's never formal. Walking down the corn rows, a little child is chasing after wielding a knife of some sort. I stop and smile back and we both erupt in laughter. Skating by the pasture, maybe I just shouldn't write, maybe I should end my life. I don't know who can save me. I feel like all my friends deep down they hate me. It doesn't matter anyway, they're all complacent, mangy little hippy wannabes. None of you could match any one of me because you can only see as far as eyes can see and I can see that you've been so blatantly dishonest and untruthful. I hope you die in a bowl of cereal because you're all a bunch of fruit loops. God if you're there please show me your sympathies and destroy all of my enemies. I can  sometimes hear the symphonies while I'm overdosing choking on *******. Hopefully I'll die in infamy something like Cobain. I had a nine millimeter once and tried to blow out my brain, but it jammed. Maybe I'm just ****** to living this awful life. That's capital punishment if you ask me. Only if I died would I truly be free. Sink me in a ship at the bottom of the sea.

Love is supposed to set you free
I know this
Intellectually, I know
Chasing love stories and songs
Into blissful eternity
Crawling through the rabbit hole
Of my lover’s pale eyes
Puffy eyelids close down
Trapping me in
The moisture of tears
and bulging blood veins
Searching for exits in
Corpus callosum
These thoughts, those words, that smell
Don’t work
Neither does complaining
About who I should be
Generous anger poured over ice
Laughter covers the sound
Of eggshells crunching  
Make it through one more night
On the edge of the bed

THE SEA is large.
The sea hold on a leg of land in the Chesapeake hugs an early sunset and a last morning star over the oyster beds and the late clam boats of lonely men.
Five white houses on a half-mile strip of land ... five white dice rolled from a tube.

Not so long ago ... the sea was large...
And to-day the sea has lost nothing ... it keeps all.

I am a loon about the sea.
I make so many sea songs, I cry so many sea cries, I forget so many sea songs and sea cries.

I am a loon about the sea.
So are five men I had a fish fry with once in a tar-paper shack trembling in a sand storm.

The sea knows more about them than they know themselves.
They know only how the sea hugs and will not let go.

The sea is large.
The sea must know more than any of us.

Sometimes everything seems so out of hand and it makes me wish that I could be a better man. I'm so blessed to call you mine. Someone like you is so hard to find. Truly someone like you is so hard to find and I'm blessed to call you mine. In time everything will be okay, just know tomorrow there's a brighter day. You've gotta learn and do it in your own way. Don't let a fool teach you that you have to be a certain way. Success comes in all shapes and forms. Just know that you're above the norm. There'll come a time when I'll be in your mind but I wont be there. Just know that I'm with you and I'll always care. It may be hard to understand but, just know tomorrow I'll be a better man.

I love how the rain strikes the ceiling panes, subtly inducing this feeling of desire to contemplate anything and everything that carries weight, or has meaning. Maybe I'm just dreaming.
You are, the death of me.

My character has been strained far enough, stained with blood. Why couldn't I have been the model son that maintained his grades, giving way for a better life, for not only myself, but my family. You are, the death of me.

I feel lost in the matrix, searching for the one that'll give me their heart without competition and ulterior intentions detrimental to our friendship. My thoughts are dark, clouded with confusion. I feel used. I feel clueless to that fact that I was naive enough to think you'd ever have my back. You are, the death of me.

A storm is conjuring, building momentum. When the fame comes, I'll have no choice but to forget them. I've always felt that I was from a different dimension, but have never felt the need to mention this to anyone. Because you were, the death of me.

We're living in a world like the matrix. All we can do is try to make sense of one another's actions and be patient. Reality truly is only what you make it to be. Everything you see is energy, neither created, or destroyed. When we deployed our troops overseas did we ever see the underlying reason. Too many of us are more concerned with the shifting of seasons (The news.) Sometimes I believe it's the eye in the pyramid, then I remember that evil is what you make it, that's why I became a Mason. Its ironic that Saddam was going to sell the oil for Euros. Then Bush came into power and the federal bureau blew up the towers only hours later, we as a nation received confirmation that Iraq was our target for invasion. But how can we blame them as we fuel our cars with the blood soaked tar sands from this foreign land that none of us care to know. Why should we show compassion for fallen soldiers that gave their lives so we would have automobiles that drive. It seems that our demise was prophesied way back in biblical times. I don't find it likely that we'll open our eyes to the lies fed to us from birth. This is my home, this is planet, Earth.

You were everything I wasn't but I hoped to be. I suppress the thought of you, buried deep off in my mind, but I still think of you from time to time. My mother lost her child in the 4th grade, it must've been hard for her to accept the change in me, from sweet and innocent, to stressed and insolent. There were times when I had to raise my self, that's probably why I've never been able to ask for help. Now that I'm older I need it the most, but who can I ask? There were days after that I would pray for death, but who would be there as I exhaled my final breath. I could never see them again so I felt as though there was nothing left but death.