i must remind myself
that i have the power and strength
to pick myself up.
i have a strong foundation.
it may be dinged with tiny cracks,
but it's still strong.
i must remind myself
that writing my way out does not make me weak.
i must remind myself
that the sun will rise tomorrow
and that tomorrow will be better than today.
i must remind myself
to take care of me.
i must remind myself
that it's okay to show
sadness,
anger,
frustration,
joy,
kindness,
love.
i must remind myself
that i'll be fine
(in due time)

The only thing they are worried about is their reflection
Who cares if they're dead or dying inside

ab shot for the gram
*** shot for the snap chat
**** pic for the dm’s

Some of them
have gotten to the place where
Their selfie
is their self

The only thing they are worried about is their reflection
Who cares if they're dead or dying inside

I could be hypocritical and say im not there
but then
how would I know it exists
You find your way
The way does not find you

*** shots on the Time Line
full nudes on tumblr
live shows on connectpal

The only thing they are worried about is their reflection
Who cares if they're dead or dying inside


© Christopher F. Brown 2016

bags under my eyes
so purple and dark
(i haven't slept well in weeks)
my face
never showing the ocean inside
unlike my eyes
that show everything.
picking my fingers
to the bone.
(they don't even bleed anymore)
biting my nails
until they bleed.
my hands
cracked and dry,
****** knuckles
that never heal.
my spine
is exhausted
from holding this weight.
my shoulders
and neck
can hardly hold my head.

i just want to lay in a bed of flowers,
under the shade of a tree
so that i may rest my head.
i don't want a tumultuous ocean inside,
i want calm seas.

please lend me your shoulder
so i may cry.
please lend me your ears
so i may purge myself of my illness.
please lend me your heart
so i may mend it.
please lend me your arms
so i may be held.
please show me
how to love freely.
please show me
how to find my purpose.
please show me
how to truly live.
please show me
what real life is.
please show me
what love is.
(please)
(let me love you)

this couch seems so empty
with just me on it.
i am so lonely here
on this couch.
the songs i hear
are making me long
for your arms around me -
comfort me,
let me cry,
and please
just let me speak.

i'm so physically,
mentally,
and emotionally
exhausted.
i'm so tired
no amount of sleep
will help me.
i'm so tired
but
my thoughts are racing
at one hundred miles an hour.
but i can't quiet them.
i can't sleep,
i can hardly eat -
i'm so sick of this place.


but i'm trying my best to be better.

The warning was clear so the report not so near.
This sound still buzzing in my ear.
The warning of a second shot, They did not want us here.
Quickly we retreat.

We walked on in the snow, Cold and slow, Where to go?
The Cold wind deep the sky peace with Violet.
Yet we still remember the sound. That sound buzzing in my ear
The warning clear, it's slap so near

The snow, Deep and cold and our resolve not so bold period
Current tensions presented through adequate noise.
Quickly scatters us, our intentions been spoiled period
All to do buy a blast of adequate noise.

i need to get away
from here
just for a short time -
escape this place
i know all too well.
i'll turn off my phone,
pack some snacks,
take a book,
but no maps.
i'll savor everything,
and photograph nothing.
hopefully i can clear my head,
lord knows it's too
crowded in there.

Hey everyone!
I'm just letting anyone know that from the 1st of December to the 1st of January, I won't be posting any poetry, because I won't be writing any - it is time for a break. Every year, it happens at about this time that my creativity decides to hibernate, and so for an entire month, I'll just be collecting new material, expanding my vocabulary and planning a new series!

- Crimsyy

I wander aimlessly around my tiny world, cringing at the pain
I worry about tomorrow’s plan and curse at today’s rain.
Joints of hell and fire make every step a burden,
yet no end in sight and more of the same is certain.
I want to stand as tall as a little man and breathe fire,
not be known as a poet without words or a liar.
I want to battle through the agony and avoid the tears
I need to dig a little deeper to make sure I hide my fears.
Older may be better when discussing the fine wines
But in the body of an old man it’s a world of wrinkles and lines
I recall the early days as many writers do, words flowed like beer
music never stopped and there was always more to hear.
Looking in a morning mirror is a terror in itself
I see the face of a statue that belongs on someone’s shelf.
Where is the smile and all the character that made me young
where is all the harmony for the songs I’ve always sung?
Will this happen to everyone as years slip through their hands
Will all my friends and family watch the sifting sands?
Time will tell I have been told as I wither and fight on
I hope the best of me is coming.... but not gone.