Let me ask--
what is worthy of being untitled?

What is the poem or story with so much meaning that it cannot be labeled?

Is my work worthy of being without a title?

Is this poem that meaningful?

Will a title spoil the emotion?

-------------------------------------------------------­--------------------------------------

When we see something untitled, there always seems to be a reoccurring sense of intrigue surrounding it.

I wonder if you'll be intrigued when you read this.

----------------------------------------------------------­-----------------------------------

If I filled this page up with hyphens and forward slashes, would it still be intriguing?

You could say yes, since there could be a secret meaning or code within the longer and shorter lines.

But what if I told you there was no meaning to any of this?

What if everything you're reading in this poem is nonsense?

Would there be any way to know?

You might argue that you could ask me.

But what if there is no answer?

--------------------------------------------------------­-------------------------------------

Now I wonder why you're still interpreting these words.

I hold nothing against you...

I just don't see the point.

___________________


­



















































    Why have you opened this? I told you there was nothing to read.



























































­








                         Please respect what I said...thank you.















































            
­















                  There is nothing to read in my next poem, either.
























































        ­                                      Or the one after that.


















                        

























        Or the one after that.      









































                                                 Tell me,











                            


                              





























  ­                         What was so intriguing about this blank document?


















___________­________

i don't care anymore
do anything to me
i'll be fine as long as you leave me to sleep

i won't cry
i won't open my eyes
i'll be alright as long as you let me rest

take me anywhere
scream your sorrows at me
i'll be okay as long as i can take some sleep

throw me onto the ground
leave me me cold and on the floor
i don't mind as long as i can rest my eyes

call out my sins
tell the world all that i've held inside
it won't bother me as long as i can have a deep slumber


leave me to die
i won't mind
as long as i can have sleep for the last time.

what's left to say?
nothing's here
what's left to hold?
it feels so wrong

there's no way to talk
it's all gone
my hope is dim
barely hanging on
like a *****'s limb

you were
the sun
you were
the light
you were
the hope
you were
the candle
you were
the warmth
you were
here long ago.

stop
breathing
stop
moving
stop
beating
(heart)
stop
writing

i like it when
i force the wet out of your burning eyes

i like it when
your soul breaks at the sleight of my hand

i like it when
your smile fades away from your beautiful face

i like it when
you throw yourself at me so desperately

i like it when
you miss me like i miss feeling you
beneath my fingers
underneath my weight
behind the curtain
coughing up love
bleeding out care
and screaming with happiness

i like it when
we play hide and seek
and when i leave
you never know where to find me
maybe i'm at the bar
maybe i'm making you jealous
maybe i'm making love

maybe i'm delusional
maybe i'm irrational
maybe i'm weird
maybe i'm scary
or maybe this is what you call love