When I was a boy,
My heart resembled a rose,
Which could not see chaos,
My innocence did show.

When I became a young man,
The rose, it grew thorns,
Dark, hardened bits formed
When I was made to mourn.

It seemed life handed death to me,
Like it was running out of time,
Running out of time to break me,
That conclusion I did find.

But those deaths have not affected me
Like the living tragedies have,
And the living tragedies drive me closer,
To thoughts I once never had.

Here I am, reaching the end of adolescence,
A time that is meant to form us as people.
Here I am, feeling that I deserve more grief,
That I have always been inherently evil.

The horizon offers much for me,
But I fear it will not come easily.
Then again, it could not be worse
Than what life has dealt me habitually.

So, onward I will march,
As I have done for quite a while.
Though the bullets strike me often,
I will somehow endure this trial.

When I fell into your cave,
Your stalagmites pierced me;
I became impossible to save,
The rock much too deep.

The sun did not shine there,
People did not see me hurt.
They did not see the blood,
How the rock made it spurt.

Some tried to pull me out,
But they all failed upon trying.
My strangled cry became a death shout,
For I was slowly dying.

My body, pulled from the deep cave,
Remained lifeless in your arms;
I had never been saved,
And I met the face of harm.

I was too far gone,
I could not return;
I did not see dawn,
Death I had earned.

why is that you
only sneak into
my thoughts in
the am
when im trying to sleep
its like ¡ka-bam!
and there you are
your voice repeatedly
in my head
its not like i have
a choice though
eh, i should probably
go back to bed.

A dust storm blows through Kansas
Stinging, lashing shrieks
The sand blows holes through a Canvas
Who collects the words, and sleeks
The gunfire of their sound, for weeks
His brows steeled and heavy
The whirlwind quits its wails
And leaves, lily-livered in its belly

A tsunami bellows over Mastushima bay
Body slamming into townsfolk
A long-time build up lead astray
One sun-browned girl is left to choke
But then spits out the damage, in half broke
And the colossal wave recedes
Quietened, calm and apologetic
Anger fleeing as it bleeds

Snow drifts and crawls its way past Moscow
Gentle, almost alluring in its ways
Children present their tongues, and the sow
Charges, squealing, into guts and begins frays
Which twist their ears burnt, lasting for a thousand days
And eventually a conscience melts the qualm
And the damage rectified on-surface
But frostbite clings to fingers; done already is the harm

Weather will hound and scorch and spit
And eventually untether
And though people bite and kick and hit
No emotion lasts forever

Heart beats irregular,
Figurative physical figments
Of our emotional imaginations.
Thrumming like humming birds.

Speaking so sluggish,
Moaning.
We shouldn't have to try so hard.