Confrontational,
dude’s really quite sensational,
but there’s very little matter
found inside his dome.
Confrontational—
it’s the opposite of beautiful.
Then again, he never worries
about whether he’s attractive.
Confrontational—
really not that calculable;
however, he always seems to
tip his very ****** hand.
Confrontational—
not quite the same as sensible,
but he is usually the one that
tends to buck the norm.
Confrontational,
doesn’t think that he is beatable;
nevertheless, he who hands him his
lunch has other things in store.
Confrontational—
it’s the converse of lovable,
yet some tend to insist that this
is his fancy way of flirting.

I've written myself in those poems;poems that were dedicated for you. Now I realise you just stole my passion for the world and the beauty I used to contemplate in art and everything that surrounded me. You know what? ******* I can and I will live without you, yes it's cold but you get used to it .

You say you're there for anybody
& only a phone call away

But where were you at 3am
When I couldn't breathe
& held that blade to my wrist

You care for everyone else
Except the one person who needed you
I needed you

You did nothing
Walked by me crying in the halls like I was a ghost
& if I choose to put this blade
To my neck instead of my wrist
& end it all tonight

I'm sure you'd laugh
& be perfectly ok
With the fact the ****** ***** is gone

So don't say you care
When you've made it obvious you don't

I used to romanticize chases:
the sweet gestures,
the undeniable want to get something –
someone, anyone
the unconscious submission for love –
lust, want

I used to romanticize being chased:
something –
someone following my every breath
someone forcing himself for my love –
lust, want
someone who wouldn’t give me up

someone proving that I am neither wrong
nor right
someone giving me the privilege of wanting
tomorrow
someone constant, someone
just someone

I never thought that consistency
will soon become undone,
that the only constant thing in one’s life
will soon go back to ashes,
that willingness and love –
lust, want,
will soon disappear
like he did

I used to romanticize the chase:
the everyday with gifts and kisses,
the unconditional pain it will deal you,
the reassurance that you will never have.

I used to romanticize the chase,
but I never thought that
I'd be the one who
*chases.

I get accused of a lot of things at first glance

"You're simplistic, you're hiding something

You have no convictions, you don't think deeply"

Usually by those who I consider to be on intellectual crutches

If you're gonna come up to talk to me from a religious context

from a spiritual context

from a hierarchical, metaphysical, eat this **** popsicle mindset

Don't expect me to swallow

Don't expect me to talk

You won't like what I have to say

Because really you just want me to agree with you

If you want me to respect your framework

When you have nothing but the claims of quacks

and the feelings you gleaned from your last psychedelic trip

to back you up

While I have to sit back and listen to how I'm close minded

Close minded for wanting some real truth in this universe

unfiltered, raw, verifiable, and in my hand

and that anything other than that is a spray paint over

my true awakening

Then I guess I'll just have to be that *******

to die for these intellectual sins

The Eldest Son of Matt, hater of pretense

Hypocrite to the highest level

Build me up into a figure of idolatry

Just like you do with the rest of your ego cases

Priests, Gurus, Rabbis, Rockstars, Poet sensations

Tell me how wonderful it is to listen to them

Tell me how I should be more in touch with a tree

Tell me how I don't dream

When all my life is but that

Tell me how I'm not deep when you make no attempt to learn

Who I am, and where I have come from

Misinterpret my teachings, and claim me to feel

As if I was the newest son of god

When all I want is for people to get beyond blinders

and love each other, and to get beyond the metaphysical rat race

Tell me that I'm supposed to live and let live

While you jam your beliefs down my throat

and expect me to respect getting philosophically tea bagged

******* to the crucifix

and asking me to repent for my search for truth