I see it like the lines on a monitor,
spiking with each beat of my heart,
crossing from one point on the map to the next.
It was rather uneventful at first, flatlining, if you will,
but I can see the increase in frequency and amplitude as my heart beats faster
each second,
third,
fourth time he messages me
and I am not so slowly falling for some beautiful boy on the other side of this, one of the largest countries on the Earth, whom I barely even know.

I still feel the pressure of your lips on mine.

It disgusts me.

We were never at a crossroads,
because our paths never truly crossed.
Yet observing your life,
your time in college,
your new friends and acquaintances
all from afar,
leaves me feeling cheated.

It was upon seeing you in the library,
books all about you, hard at work,
that I fell in love.
You were beautiful, well-dressed and groomed,
you were highly intelligent, at the very least academically,
you excelled artistically, producing magnificent creations of paint and graphite,
all of which is still true to this day.
I attempted to get closer,
to befriend you and, of course, pursue more romantic relations.
You never were interested.

Do not get me wrong,
I have moved on, I live my life happily.
From time to time, however, I still wonder on what might have been.

From time to time I wonder if
the words are really there
                                    or maybe I just want them to exist so much
                                                            ­        that I am forcing them onto a page
that is not entirely willing
           Or able
to hold them.

I know several who write so-called "poetry".
But their work reads less like art, emotion, philosophy.
And more like practiced mimicry of such.
It's got "rhythm and rhyme".
But lacks "rhythm&rhyme;".
It doesn't dance with your heart to the samba of excitement that races through you.
It doesn't catch your ear with cleverly chosen sounds like nature does through the birds.
It flops around on the dance floor, to some once-famous pop singer, making as big a scene as possible, in the hopes of catching your attention.

I've come to accept
That I will never be happy with the friends I have,
Because I'm too busy worrying about the ones I have no longer.

My life without
                                                                                                                    you
is described with one word
*better

Just flip the switch
                                                          ­                                     (Switch)
Suddenly you're a massive *****.

Having best friends
Who will never let you be one

The nineteen-sided puzzle-piece
that is my personality
fits everywhere and nowhere.
Pick it up,
And place it.
Push,
Force it into its place.
But look,
Those colors don't quite match
And that side is all messed up.
It just doesn't fit.
So close, and yet so far.

I give you all of me.
You give me all of your lies.

Just a confused little boy
                                      Trying to figure out who I am
Empty inside.
                                                                                          
            
                                                                                          Only just alive.





(In body, but not in mind.)

Life
is gray
no rhyme
no reason
except for poetry

Relax, man.
'S no big deal.
You just gotta unwind,
Play some music,
Sip some coffee.
Chill out.
Put down the textbook.
Stop wasting your time.
It's all useless anyway.

I'm dying
Inside
Btw.
Totally shattered
Crumbling
To bits
And you're
Not here
You're not answering
Btw
I knew this would happen
If I told you
I knew it would affect you
And now
When I need you
You're gone
I'm not mad
Btw
Just sad.
I understand
I just wish
I hadn't
Told you.

Cry
With me
Because I
Need company
Hold me
As I
Break down
As I
Collapse
Under the pressure
Cry
So I
Can comfort
You
And ignore
My own
Pain.

I say these
Things
I write them
In my
Poetry
But
Is it
Really me?
Am I angry?
Or sad?
Or even happy?
Am I
As smart as I think?
Am I intelligent
In the least?
Am I a good person?
Am I
Any
Of these things?
It all seems so
Skeptical

I'm not sad
I'm not angry
I'm definitely
Not happy
I'm just
Here
My uncle left
My grandmother
Followed
Now my cousin
His daughter
Left as well
They all
Left sadness
And heartbreak
Behind
But I'm not sad
I'm just here
Sometimes
I just want to say
Farewell
Forever

My birthday.
It's in three
Days
On that day
My siblings
Are busy
Busy with sports
All day
All freaking
Day
On that day
My parents
Are going
To a funeral
A freaking funeral
I
Get to stay home
Alone
Happy birthday to me
Happy freaking birthday.

I didn't visit
You today
They told me
What happened
When they came home
You left us
It was your time
I know that you passed
But I just don't
Believe it
I don't
Something won't click
I don't believe you are gone
I know it in my mind
But deep down I don't believe it
I can't
I can't believe
I can't cry
I can't miss you
Because I don't believe
Because I can't believe
I need to see it
With my own eyes
So that I can miss you
So that I can cry
So that I can believe
Both that you are gone
And that you are no longer hurting
I love you
I love so much
But I don't miss you
Because I don't believe you're gone

I'm writing you
This letter
Because
I don't know
What to do
I cannot sleep
I'm thinking of you
Lying in that bed
In that room
In that place
Those machines
Your face
Eyes closed
You're breathing
But you aren't alive
You are not up
And about
You are no longer
You
You're not grandma
You are a piece of her
I sill love you
But I want her back
I need her back
I cannot sleep
And I cannot weep
Even though
I am so sad
The tears
They will not come
Mother is there with you
You the piece of her mother
Grandmother stay with us
Mom needs you
I need you
We all need you
Oh
Look
I am finally weeping

I told you I love you
I would see you again soon
I never thought
it would be in this room
Your breathing slow
Quiet
Relaxed
You're sleeping
With this incessant beeping
Drowning out my thoughts
We love you
Come back
Don't leave us
Grandma
I will see you soon.

Lying
In the bed
So pale
So fragile
Tubes everywhere
Machines beeping
Please
Don't leave us
We love you
Grandma

Why does my heart
Flutter?
For some reason
It's heavy
But it flutters
Why?

So you're
Having abandonment
Issues
They cannot
Be solved
With a tissue
You
Want your parents
To
Miss you
You need
Your mummy to
Kiss you
Well
I'm sorry son
But
Read today's
News issue
Your parents
Died
In
A tragic
Car accident
As they
We're lying
On
Their death beds
They said to say
"They love you
They will miss you"
And mummy said
To kiss you.

I feel like being a **** today
There's nobody who can stop me
I feel like being a ****  today
You may not want to talk to me

Something about
That puffy, grey
Sky
Calls
Pulls me out
Until I spin
And jump
And shout
In the
Evening air
Something about
Those big, fat
Rain drops
Calls me to dance
Neath the soft, grey sky

Have you ever
Been so sad
That your heart
Just stopped sinking
Stopped drowning in depression
And just
Broke?
I have
I am broken
But I am
Picking up
The pieces
What does not
**** you
Makes you stronger
And YOU
DEFINITELY.
DID.
NOT.
****.
ME.

That picture
Is beautiful
The smile
It shows
Is beautiful
The face
It shows
Is beautiful
The figure
It shows
Is beautiful
That picture
Is beautiful
And it Breaks
My
Heart

You said you love me
Now I'm just a mistake
You dumped me,
Kicked me to the curb,
For her
I was fine
Until you
Called me names
I am just a mistake
Your fat, ugly, stupid
Mistake.

I have borrowed a poem
And have yet to return it.
I have taken all credit
And I lost the receipt.
One day I will find it
That day I will leave.
Til then I'll keep living
Life's deep poetry

Poems
Are magic
I wave my wand
And the words
Appear

What is it like
To be nameless
Is it as if you were faceless?
What is a title but a proclamation
A proclamation
Of who you are.
Is it your position?
Your soul?
Who is that?
Who is that over there?
Is it John?
Or is it Michael?
It is untitled
What are they like?
What DO they like?
What is their religion?
Their culture?
Their ethnicity?
No one knows
And no one cares
For in this world
You are untitled
And you are invisible
In a sea of untitleds

I would like a tall glass of chlorine,
to burn my insides clean,
for they are far from pristine,
they are sick and twisted and green,
in this state I cannot be serene,
so give me a glass of chlorine,
to burn my insides clean.

i would like a pack of c4,
to  blow down my inner door,
and stomp in with guns blazing,
each devilish thought i be razing,
i should like a pack of c4,
to demolish my inner door.

I should like a bottle of hydrogen,
to open in my mind,
to leave it's burdens lighter,
to make it's thoughts burn brighter,
I should like a bottle of hydrogen,
to make my burdens lighter.