You don't have to love me back,
Just say I see you, and we will let that be that,
You just have to know I am around,
Just a nod of your head, nothing too profound.

You don't to commit or anything,
Just know I listen to the words they sing.
Please don't block or ignore, I am not a creep
I won't as you to hold my hand, I won't ask you to leap.

You can live normally, free and true.
It's my cross to bear that I am not for you.
Please take care with my heart, it may not always beat your name.
One day I could be gone, for once not to blame.

So all I ask is that you let me adore.
I have conjured a fantasty life, we need not explore.
I took a big step revealing my thoughts
Distantly yours, crosses and noughts.

Today I left fear I let control me
And negative decisions I drowned in the dust
Prettier colors will bloom from my drab dirt
Drip from dark walls with each turn and ******

Now I feebly fill my weak body with
Eternal and everlasting love and gratitude
Contain it within the deeply tucked hope
I somehow still have which lifts my sour mood

My diet will no longer consist of
Processed carbs, substances strong
I vow to start treating my body like a pristine temple
Instead of a tomb where the cold corpses belong

I wish I had more than words, I don't
Luckily the page listened through the years
To the bittersweet ending of up-and-down phases
Each of them seeing their fair share of tears

I desire my actions to talk louder
Reflect the honest intentions held in my heart
I am scrambling to keep us together
We are on the verge of falling apart

i am too aware of my own image to be who i am.


i dont know who i am


i shaved my beard off the other day.
ive never made a bigger mistake.
i look like a child.
i am a child.
i never want to look like a child.

my neck looks bigger
my face appears to be melting.
i guess thats what
was under all the wool.

i dont have the ***** to live like bukowski
and if i did
i wouldnt be bukowski anyway.

ill be honest in saying
i dont know anything
and the things i have learned
came at the expense
of something i thought i knew.
theres a knife in my stomach
two right hands around the grip
two lefts pointing blame at one another

I shut my eyes and inhale
Trying to find the inner goddess
The warrior, the princess
The one who is inspiring and magical at her core

Instead, I see me
I find an empty chest that is twisted with anxiety
I find a tired body from ripping myself away
I find a mind begging to be silent
I find a heart longing to be free

I stop for a moment.

I no longer am plastering pieces together to form a goddess.
I can see that I am nothing near to a princess
Not an inspiration or a songbird in the breeze
My heart is tugged downward by weights

What am I feeling?
It buried so far beneath the surface I am not sure I will ever see
It is nonexistent, untraceable
A hollowness envelops me

and I let it go.

Oh darling,
If only I could tell you how beautiful you are to me,
I know you and I were never meant to be,
But I was so capricious and reckless,
And I thought I could fool destiny,
Kidnap you, take you with me and and re-writte the code
But somethings are not meant to be,

When do you find the urge to write?
Often I am asked
after someone has given a poem or two a pass.
When I need to I reply,
which isn't far from the truth and isn't a lie.

So why now?  
Why continue utterances to crowds of one hundred and ninety six
and feel ashamed when my heart speaks before my filter hits.
I guess it goes back to my urge to write
To let it all out.
I can't bare these feelings alone so I put them out to scouts.
Hoping that someone can see
That I am not the representation of insanity
That I know you want me all to be.

I am afraid.
Like a child in many ways.
I don't enjoy not knowing what's ahead
Which is why I have found myself closer to dead.

I reach too far and I assume
Rain sleet or shine,
Doesn't matter
I won't see flowers bloom.
And this is the persistent gloom.
That weighs on a soul like a scary cartoon.

I had a lot I could have turned out all right.
****, look at my past: one thing I know is fight.
But every battle takes its toll
And exponentially it seems i'm missing the bowl.

Ironically now I am level headed
Clean shaven
Warm
But by no means in heaven.

Perhaps for people like me
Who won't accept mediocrity
There are but few retreats
And hello poetry is a good one for me.