Warm sunshine beating on my back.
Green vines dancing the width of a tree trunk.
Trickling streams fall off mossy rocks, like tiny diamonds, absorbed into the river of glass.
Will I shatter the river?
Could my body perfectly absorb and flow with the glaceing current?
I haven't decided.

Far away from today,
There is something vital I must say
Your life meant frigging dirt to me
6ft under was your destiny.

I read a disturbing truth someone questioned on the internet,
“the world didn’t end in 2012, but since then have you truly felt alive?”
I don’t wish to presume, but I would be more than willing to bet
that you feel the same, that you’ve fully lost your drive.
Marking calendars like clockwork, each box an imposing X,
but you’ve lost your absolute and essential favourite red pen.
We live as NPC’s but I’d like to believe we’re far more complex,
though we make the same mistake over and over again.

No sun burnt out, no moon fell,
but I swear the galaxy has changed,
we’re dazed and living under a spell,
our lifestyle’s completely deranged.
There was deviation from the reservation
that fate held out for us.
Abandoned salvation for sedation
the golden pastures have turned to dust.
But there’s got to be a link between worlds.

I know there’s growth in destruction
instead I loathe interruption.
Can silence be considered a confrontation?
I know there’s redemption in healing,
but I take each hit without showing feeling.
Can violence be considered mediation?
Decipher every word’s meaning
while performing spring cleaning
we’re all the same; we just want a good purge.
Ignoring every clear right sign
but complain about the fuzzy line
the one that’s crossed when you can’t resist the urge.

No sun burnt out, no stars died,
but the dimensions sure are blurring.
Auto pilot’s on and gravity’s been defied,
and no one sees this all occurring.
There was deviation from the reservation,
that fate held out for us.
I trade motivation for inebriation,
the golden pastures have turned to rust.
But there’s got to be a link between worlds.

Time isn’t so strong when you can break the clock
you know it’s possible to push back the hands.
For fate is chosen but destiny you can mock
from the deep seas to the hottest sands.
The past is already written
the ink is already dry.
The fire’s already been lit and
the flames are reaching towards the sky.
I’ve explored every emotional cave
and I’ve trekked through every lonely field.
When you’re scared it’s the only time you can be brave,
so grab your sword and don’t forget your shield.

No sun burnt out, no seas ran dry,
but the world suddenly stopped turning.
the world’s a game and life’s a lie,
but we must keep internal fires burning.
There was deviation from the reservation
that fate held out for us,
I replace meditation with self deprecation
the golden pastures I no longer trust.
But there’s got to be a link between worlds.

Starts off fine.
Nothing bad in sight.
One spark is all it takes.
Downward spiral into the abyss.
I am quickly deteriorating.
There is no fight left to give.

My mind tricks me into believing that I can be okay.
But I cannot do this anymore.
I am told to take life one day at a time.
But how can that be if each day is harder than the last?

Loosen the noose.
Put the pills back in their bottle.
Place the knife in the drawer.
Don't write that suicide note.

Live another day.
See where life may take you tomorrow.

Clearing out my Drafts Folder.
Deleting all Drafts That are not completed
Posting the completed but never posting and combing drafts written only ha;f way.
no longer writing poems to express
not even a poem of what im going through at this moment,

Dear lover,

I finally found the foundation I thought I’ve lost at your grandmother’s house during the summer,
It was where you told me it was,
Inside my luggage indeed.

Along with many other things that I haven’t seen in a while such as
My guitar pick,
My jewelry,
My camera,
Your hoodie,
My hoodie really.
My hair brush,
My seashells from Revere beach,
And a bunch of pictures from us that I never wanted to throw away and I never will.

I put them all in a drawer next to my bed,
The drawer closest to my head,
The drawer that I never open because there is a valentines day card turned upside down,
I refuse to see the massage.


- Dear friend,

I haven’t called you in a while and I’m sorry I disappeared,
I don’t want to bring you down with my depression,
I just don’t think I should add anything else to your plate,
And I’m sorry if I did.

I think I made a mistake,
And I need your help,
But I don’t want your help,
Because I don’t deserve it.

I hid the keys from my drawer and I forgot where I put them.

Now I don’t have access to my most valuable items,

They’re not lost,
I never lost them,
I never threw them away,
And never will,

I just can’t reach them.
I can’t reach to you either,
That’s funny.


- Dear guy that follows me on Instagram,

Your pictures really attract me,
I know that beautiful things can start with just one like,
So I liked all your pictures,
And you liked all mines back,

Is this going somewhere?
Should I slide to through the DMs
A simple "hello?"
A concerning “How are you?”
A heartbreaking “Hey”
A disappointing “I’m sorry”

And that’s why I never wrote back,
And never answered the calls,
And made sure that you knew that I wasn’t going to,
And I didn’t
But now I am.


- Dear stranger,

I love how we vibed for the shortest
And I think that’s a sign for us to vibe longer.

Wanna hang some time?

And if you don’t want to that’s fine,
I get it…

I don’t.
I don’t get it.

I want to hang out with you,
I want to be with you,
I want to be able to like your pictures and not feel that I’m annoying you,

And I want to be able to feel something beautiful when you upload a new picture.

Instead of feeling a sinking hole form right in the middle of my rib cage
,
Swallowing my heart and my bones,
Feeling that they're poking my lungs,
And ripping them apart.

I can’t breath because you’re gone,
You’re not the guy that follows me on instagram anymore,
So I can’t call you that,
And you don’t want me to reach out to you,
And I want your help,
And just your help,
Because you’re the cause of my mistake.

I can’t call you a friend,
Because friends don’t let other friends cry on their own,
And they’re not cold when they go to the hospital for attempted suicide,
They’re not cold when they beg them to not hang up the phone,
They’re just not cold.
And you are,

And it’s my fault.


- Dear stranger,

I found the keys to my drawer.
I’ll send you back your hoodie.