Hopeless inadequacy
Binds me to the ground.
Cruel roots; anxiety, despair,
Pull at the soles of my feet,
Earthing me, pretending common sense.
The most terrible obstacles
Always lie within,
My greatest enemy;
That traitorous *******, doubt,
And I cannot cast him out.

When your youthful command of language
is not enough to convey
what swings its jaws inside you,
when you stand pulling from your shelf
volumes written by the great and inimitable—
names that inspire centuries of admiration,
minds that managed what you cannot,
their icy clarity pummeling you
like a stream of fists,
you of tremble and grief
and writhing weariness—
when your age prohibits you from expressing
your apocalyptic, purgatorial verve the way you want it,
you don’t stop trying,
you don’t stop trying,
you let the sun drop and rise
and then
you launch your body at this wall again,
you bruise yourself willingly and determinedly,
you throw your whole weight into the crash,
you work up a fury of hope, an improbable recklessness,
you keep going and going and going and going
never mind the blood in your mouth or bells in your ears
because you are the whale that beaches itself by choice
and you are right to be this way,
you are brave to keep looking for gold

We’re given love with the fear of heartbreak,

We’re given opportunity with the possibility of failure.

We’re given creativity and passion with the shadow of inadequacy,

We have summer with the promise of winter.

But that doesn’t mean we should stop altogether,

because the reality is our lives will be both tender and terrifying.

Balance is crucial to maintaining all good things.

I have looked upon sainted kings,
Daring to look them in the eye,
Like I was their equal.
I have watched God cast Satan out of heaven,
The archangels chased him down,
And I was not unhinged.
I have watched Juliet pierce her heart,
Over her dead Romeo,
And only tears for dear old love were shed.
I have seen beauty, I have seen repulsion.
Blood spattered across palace floors,
Watched the ones I love stride away from me.
I have seen lies that have unravelled,
Like some Jacobean tragedy.
Not once have I cowered in the corner,
Or averted my eyes.
He says “Diamond, don’t be cut by your own dust”
As he throws her against the wall.
I’ve seen it all.
I’ve seen dead poets, half-starved and decaying,
Defeated by their own passion,
And I whispered “Misery’s your nom-de-plume” into the silence.
He hung off the bed, almost celestial,
Until you looked at his mouth (In case you were wondering:
Kissed too much by those who didn’t fuel the fire)
But I wasn’t frightened.
Grown men have threatened me with eyes like daggers,
Invisible fingers on my throat.
I’ve seen sticks and stones, breaking bones, and names that definitely hurt you.
But I’ve worn the experience on my sleeve,
I’ve never let it weaken me.
I’ve held shattered hearts in my hands as I try to fix them.
I’ve reached out to find my lover’s outline has gone cold.
I’ve seen Death, standing in the shadows, surveying the mess he left.
I’ve seen flame-haired girls, poised perfectly, but with paused tears,
Threatening to pour forth,
Because he’s in love with the idea of the muse rather than the muse herself.
I’ve seen obsession,
Oh, god, I’ve felt it. Clutching desperately onto his leg,
Dragging herself through the blood and guts of the earth.
I’ve watched boys carve “Lacrymosa” into broken skin,
Either their own or somebody else’s.
I’ve seen the fall of Man, the mouth of hell.
I’ve snapped out of hypnosis caused by ***** eyes.
I’ve seen the name of God drive lovers apart.
Bigoted, acid-flecked spit.
I’ve seen war.
I’ve seen peace.
You see, I’ve lived a life,
And I’ve been bruised before.

But I can’t even look at my own reflection,
Without cursing to some Almighty.
I can’t even stutter some words out,
That could bring me all I need.
Introspection….like a hole in the ******* head.
And yet, they come alive at night,
Telling me to reach out across the great divide,
***** my courage to the sticking place.
“And pray tell, Olivia, what are you so afraid of?”
Fear of the unknown.
Caution doesn’t crack hearts.
And progress report: Parasitical ugliness (please stop living on me),
That drives them away, besides.

I am smashed down
By the worlds standards
With such physical expectations
My hopeless heart sinks
So small, so small
so small, I am
As I am haunted by
the images of tender Beauty
Powerless and worthless, I feel
As I walk daily, shrinking inside
I hold my dignity tight
As this shrinking violet
Hides in her great forest
Cheeks all flushed and red
I scurry behind some foliage
Surrounded by my own dead wood

The lashing striking pain
The whips of many masters
Draw blood from my many old wounds
As I become aware of my infected self
Far to much it is for me
As I play pass the parcel
With all my friends
As youth shines its splendor,
its brightness, claiming all the sky's
I am burned by its great heat
My skin scorched
For such beauty can feel
like the furnaces of hell

For what God would curse us
With such inadequacy and shame
In this half life
For I live in a darkened room
Of many locked doors
Where I have cut my own
Arms and legs off so
That I may live in this world
As I live on silent scraps
While the world enjoys its harvest
and feasts on Gods bounty

But better it is to be the limp inadequate
That can only fail to catch
Helplessly left only to observe
As a great physical Prowess
Can be a great curse
For much seeing is lost
In the unquenchable appetite
of hungry feasting Lion's  
As there is in the glory of conquest
The soul can be long forgotten

The seeds of my shame
And inflections of inadequacy
Where burdens, never of God's will
But sewn by the devil himself
To hide the majesty of God's creation
So I relax to observe
The weeding of my gracious God
As I am relieved of each passing pain
I fall into blissful acceptance

I question what its like to really live
as I am living the life others can’t afford.
I have the world at my fingertips
but it’s slipping away with the feeling
that I am not good enough.

-*KM

An ever-growing list of things that I can't fix
a set of scribbles on a blank lined page
a lifetime of regretful (in)decisions
a stack of unstamped postcards that I swear I meant to send
my clinginess, my neediness
a drawer full of unused paper clips
two eyes that work too well to see what lies beneath the skin
a mouth that I may never learn to tame
two ears that someday soon will cease to hear
a cluttered, clumsy, cumbersome soul
two hands with scars and calloused fingertips
a mind that only ever thinks of you
two legs that don't know where the hell to go
and
a heart that's only satisfied when beating next to yours...

And this is all I have to give to you.

Maybe it's your eyes
Or maybe it's how I wish I could trace my lips down that perfect jawline
Maybe it's your smile that makes my heart speed up a little more
Maybe it's your humor and the way you put joy in my heart
Maybe it's your apologies when you've done nothing wrong
Maybe its the way I feel as if I could write you a thousand songs
Something about you is so enticing
I'm drawn to you like the current of electricity
I wish you could see yourself through my eyes because if you could you would envision the beauty I see and never again wonder about your adequacy

Line them up like candle sticks
There, in every empty frame
Quiet, aligned, they greet me home
No two ones the same.

I came in from the bitterness
They fought their way on through
Blades and pines, the wilderness
More lines, yes, they speak too.

Are they notes of senselessness
That speak of wintry boyish grief?
Clearly, when the tears are long
The lead is ever brief.

I came to cry the voiceless song
Of terrors vague, but bleak
To beat my breast in poems plain
Intended hugeness, meek.

Dusted ‘long the desk far edge
The shavings are as ****** things
The grey won’t bulk, only defend
Both placate my rememberings.

Get these bards out from my head
The depth into, foolishly repenned
Confirmed in life as substanceless
--One to the window again.

Failed pillars of the balm I sought
Look there! The thoughts I had to lame
Cut from sweet youth, dumb and aloud
Deaths all lying silent, in vain.

Those faint shades of negate-gone
Drop down from the general tear
Left to cradle th’abundant soul
In silent tongues, songs left to bear.