Whispers you’re no good for me
In the corners of my mind
Everytime i come back we fit so perfectly
But i’ve wasted too much time,
Stuck in orbit around you
The gravity around here
Just isn’t meant for a pair of two.

Every Time I crash back down
I run back into you.
Seasons change,
They rearrange,
Somehow we never do.
Frustrating, you’re intoxicating,
Shape up or ship out,
Just figure your shit out.

I sat beneath the fallen stars,
somehow finding fault in their guidance
when I walked along a deserted path
all because my pride was far too fragile
to leave in the open;

Woes splayed out like a forgotten book,
Tattered pages, innocence long faded―
memories hidden between every word,
yet the reality of my existence sets in at sunrise,
then my dreams crumble down to a lonely whisper into the night.

And I must face the pain,
the anger,
the confusion,
that has overcome every cell in my body
until I am nothing but a reflection of the scars their ghosts left behind.

But, I refuse to look back into that bottomless pit,
hungry for my sense of worth,
no matter how many times it calls my name,
begging to feel whole for just one day;

I won’t go back.

Still, I have traveled down that road with nothing but miles and miles of empty sky,
searching for meaning in every untouched stone,
and every shallow grave.

Yet, no one told me that the traces of skeleton touches would still burn holes in my skin,
that the silver bullets would rip through to my core,
leaving me vulnerable vulnerable in a world that preys on the weak,
and bleeding on the shards of my broken heart like paint to a canvas,
only the wounds never heal.

And it’s an endless ride down a two-way street,
signs screaming “dead-end”,
but you keep going,
thinking that maybe you can change its route.

Behind the facade of cracks filled with gold
and faltered smiles too heavy to pick up again and again,
there is a scared little girl inside,
unwilling to greet the future with open arms,
terrified to take the first step out that door because the minute she does,
it all becomes real,
and reality is the biggest dream-killer.

I've been running from the demons lurking in the past without actually seeing that they are only the contours of my mistakes
and they do not define me,
they do not define me;

They do not define me.

I’ve never looked beyond the ruins,
I’d only seen the darkness that I welcomed so warmly,
but I never saw the light underlying,
so much stronger than the misery,
and if i’d known that this journey,
that realization knocking on my door,
was so promising,
I never would have taken a step back.

I never would have believed for a second that things couldn’t get better
and that the darkness was forever,
but i’ve seen the future and its pleas for redemption;

And I’m listening,
I’m listening for the first time in so long.

It’s calling to me,
and I go because life is about taking chances
and if I hid behind my fear forever,
I would never give myself a chance to change

After all, I am simply human.


The world is coming to an end,
I have a Nuclear weapon about to burst inside my chest.

You lied to me
     To lay with me
              I gave you me
                          But you abandoned me

Closed me in a box you dug me six feet under
My soul left to wonder

I was a dream you turned into a nightmare
I thirst in pain, now I drown in my own tears
I gave you my fears
you turned around and sharpend your spears

You Couldn't love me
so you turned me into an unlovable being

Titled me
and insane

But yet you fear losing me
because I was the drug to your pain

alan Sep 9

Picking up pieces of the past that nearly passed
freely through my mind.
Mind you, I do, missing monthly from my heart
much harder to make you stay.
Stay somewhat somewhere near me
if you don't hear, not even I can hear me.

I came to agree with Charles Darwin
When my eyes opened wider as I came of age
And I saw how the world worked
Realizing that it was deeper than what people said
About my race in life being unique from my neighbour’s
And what my religion teaches
Coupled with the enormous faith it demanded
Asking me not to question the obscure answers
But life remains what it is and the truth remains the truth
Although it could be heartbreaking if misunderstood

Life has always been a cryptic puzzle
Destined to be deciphered step by step
To be understood little by little across generations
One continuing where the previous stopped
This was the birth of philosophy and science
Bodies of rebellion that seek
To answer the questions and question the answers
Why in the track of life, evil travelled faster than good

I came to agree with Charles Darwin
When I looked at life and saw that it was indeed
A ring where only the fittest survived
So what hope was there for the weak?
    what hope …………..for the weak?
And a voice answered saying
Faith! They will believe and hold on to their belief
Their prayers and belief may or may not become
But they will be comforted by their belief
In the things they can feel but do not see

This life too is full of malpractice
And the righteous are at a disadvantage
The world is also full of unkindness
That when the kind bends to help a fallen one
Get back on his feet, he gets kicked
On the head by the same person he elated
And he would look back to a cruel memory seeing
That his kindness was a ladder
With which he elevated his Judas
The world is a place where one becomes pragmatic
even with kindness
To avoid being kicked in the head

The journey to our heart desires is a race
The world is racing away with everything good
Only the strong and opportune wrestle enough from her
In this continuous race that never ends
Some people fall off by the road side
And kindness could be a weakness to the needed focus
But everyday a miracle happens, people take chances
To uplift others, defying the law of nature
Yet there are casualties

I came to agree with Charles Darwin when I saw it
That life was this programmed race track
That thrived on the principle of survival of the fittest
And evolving into this state of mind,
I have seen that evolution
Is not only what I see in my biology textbooks
But it was the principle that guided life.

Winter comes.
Rain falls.


I was asking what sort of poem I should write and she said this. Comedy gold.
jdotingham Aug 9

weary eyed hipsters stumble and wonder if others wander the streets so bleak as post-intoxicating liquor grips their throats with their crispy eyed dope and melodramatic tropes ramble through their denial of stereotypescalation.
The world did them a crime, stripped them of rhyme and their sandstone blocks of identity ready to be crumbled by the dynamite expression of a cynical drinker of coffee unaware that in the mirror is the same hipster begging for money on the streets. The one who wonders if others wander so bleak.
    Drenched in irony.
    Cardboard shelter of whining ivory and printed barcodes.
    ABlissful tyrony of tabloid hoes in leather skirts who smoke fags without a second grace at the phantoms of the poloroid.
     Shredding vocal chords. Angel cum clean. W1pe off that liquid graffiti, the cross says it so, should not touch the dew of the floor or a curse shall b-bestowed.
     Acceptance of culture. Fuck!poe_
etry?hello&bi-my/english/suite/heart. YOU DEVILS CROW! a raven's snow, bleeding from earlobes and vaginal moles. force feeding miscarriages and then bulimic throws against toilet holes - dripping down chins like chunky waterfalls.
---- Who copulated pre-insatiate? and ecstatic with homosexual dollars who sweetened the snatches of sweat dripping down glasses and talkshow trashes broadway masses? Eluding gyzyms of my prismomous orgasms of satirical patterns. /.....Pretentious lanterns roam the skyline of a blistering moon, subverted by the doom and gloom by the desperation of lustfull wombs. They scratch at the square jaws and poufed hair of clones. Who pound
                     pound the street with treetrunk cocks screaming
Pulsating club music, reminiscent of a rampant connection between two pupils dilating under the influence of spice, rolling the dice with death and life.
------{I've seen America with no clothes on, I've seen the road howl all the same.}
/.As ?drunks! begin to splutter their venomous barks of spikes, smokey rooms and coffee eyes are a part of my disguise. .........it's.innate.in.our generation, there's only need for sex to crave. %But really... REALLY? really? have we really got the time?
...weary eyed hipsters stumble and wonder if others wander the streets so bleak as post intoxicating liquor grips their throats with their crispy eyed dope and melodramatic tropes ramble through their denial of stereotypescalation.

I've lost a little friend, which I, alone, loved,
Solitary thoughts and lives are envied by some,
But when that some achieves none, few thank the sun.

That none which I possessed,
All others let progress,
From one to some,
To two from one.

But the constant pain; oh martyr that is I,
Gave comfort to my soul; surely I would never ever lie,
And provided me such winning topics; myself in all respects untried,
Regardless of what is said; to fail? I'd rather die.

But do not fret, he is sure to return, alone, to me,
Once I turn back to he from he and she,
And perhaps it is I who call him, beckon him here,
For being one, than some, to me is less queer, less fear.

Gaib Jul 16

Okay kid here's the deal, you'll come into this world and everyone will tell you how to feel.

Fast forward, fifth grade, you're in the bathroom stall. The first time you knew the word gay, it was written as a slur on a dirty cement wall.

When your brother came out it shouldn't been a surprise, but even
you became accustomed to the fear behind his eyes.

Using art as an outlet, you set your electricity free, bleeding words onto paper, grasping for being who you wanted to be.

Drunk on idealism and Tumblr walls, discovering yourself, refusing to fall.

Into the same routine and monotony like the rest, you took your pain to the stage, ripped your heart open and confessed.

Screaming I AM WHO I AM, with your arms open wide, who knew one day you'd finally refuse to hide?

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