I had three
Now I have one
I had Happiness, Faith and Love
Now I only have one
To which it added Sadness
What should I do with one and the Sadness?
I don't quite know
So I feel disoriented
I travel in the darkness
But the one in my chest pocket
It's there
And I feel the other two, that they are not there
Yes two is bigger than one
But the one it's still there
I think I should seek the light
And enjoy the one
And stop wondering
How would it be, with the other two as well
I should tell Sadness,
She could visit, but she can not stay
As I still have the one
And I'll do my best
To make memories with the one I have
As life is short and weird
I would not let Sadness,
Or Dispair,or Fear,
Take control of it
I will try my best
To be thankful I have the one
And even if I always miss the two
I will keep wearing the shirt
With the pocket at my chest
Where is plenty of room for them, too

I wish I felt like you really loved me.
I feel like you want to see me when you don’t have a better option.
I feel like you have a secret life that you don’t want to share with me.
I feel like you don’t care whether I stay or leave.
I feel like you are not attracted to me.
I feel like I’m doing everything to try to make this a “real” relationship.
I feel like you don’t have respect for me.
I feel like you are embarrassed to be seen with me.
I feel like I’m nothing special or different than the hundred relationships before me.
I feel needy and unwanted.
I feel like you don’t want to touch me.
I feel like you wish I would just be happy with a relationship on your terms and not have other needs.
I feel like all I’m going to get from sharing my feelings is the response, “smh” or "this again" so I keep it to myself.
I feel like you don’t really care about how I feel.
I feel like I’m almost done.

I didnt think i would expose a poem,
or even,
conjour the courage to knit a cape out of my addiction...
This is me settling my habits with cigarettes to rest.

I ditch the nicotine and tobacco and cigarette paper,
and although the thought of this triumph is enriching,
Right now my spirit is pale, and stale of vigor,
The livliehood of a single puff,
could heal all pain of the moment,
until yet again,
time takes its toll,
Frozen I feel,
stuck and bewildered having my crutches
swept from the vice grips of my hands,
and now,
I am to stand on my own two,
with the will of my own my mind and my own heart.
Gravity is heavier here,
as if landing on planet Jupiter
Alien! Indeed is the feeling I feel, feeling, I fall...

Rugged and ruined under rain,
daggered with bows
and blind groping over braille,
Who knew victory could feel so grave, ill?
so grim and muggy and moody and mundane.
The greatest dynasties fell to dust,
and yet God doesnt even show a face familiar to man,
but is felt with the grace of a feather,
behold a blooming forever,
Clandestine, a boon worthwhile...

Hope /
Dangles from a string /
Off a cliff /
And it's dangerous /
So I kick the ****** off /
Die, die, die /
It won't

Jealous of the sea.

He was always jealous of the ocean,
How could he write songs like the waves?
The timpani drums on the breaking tide,
Crescendos written on corral staves.
Harmonizing whistles from a shoreline quartet,
And the gentle reeds blow a soft minor key.
How could he ever write songs like the ocean,
How could he ever compose like the sea.

Succulent hate and misconceived trees of sorrow,
living under the devils tombstone of love,
rattling my subsequent bones of decay,
on my knees begging to be saved,
witnessing cains ******,
whipping gods eyes,
throw the feedbag on the horses face,
gorging the lies,
galaxies spark strange atomic waste,
suffocating the creator,
starving the witch,
branding the third eye,
searing flesh of goblins
distorted cries,
screams of freedom,
screeching violins play in Lucifers den,
ancient prognosticated scriptures of evil tribes,
frivolous hope crushed again by temptation,
reaching for the forbidden fruit,
love always just out of my grasp,
laughing and mocking my desperate tries,
my crippled desire burns to death right in front of my eyes,
helpless crushing weight from the chains of despair,
cage my raging savage endearments,
destroy me, my tortured love

Shakespeare said
To die- to sleep-
But sleep without a morning’s light

Hamlet said
He fears the dreams-
But dreams are what makes the night

And he spoke of
Wrongs, and suffering,
But wrongs without their right

And though Hamlet despaired,
And refused to go on,
Our joy is not out of our sight