Here I sit
In my car
I didn't drive far
But my thoughts
Are gone

Gone somewhere nobody belongs
Desperation
Pain
An empty song

Nobody belongs
Nothing is real
We claim that since we feel
It's all real
But what's the deal

We live
Without knowing
We cry and beg for why
Never an answer from the sky
We all lie

Anyone who has faith
Anyone who feels in place
Anyone not afraid
Of death
They're all lying
To your face
To themselves
I can tell

I've lived some years now
I can see how
We all fight to forget
That time keeps ticking
And we all live in regret
Of existing

I can drive my car into another
Burn and crash
And die
And people would cry
They would ask why
Then say goodbye
And time will keep on

We do not belong
Where did we go wrong
Time keeps moving on
And soon I'll be gone
It won't be long
27 years gone by
All I can remember
Is me asking God why

Family members die
Tragedies go by
The world burns
And at every turn
We have all aged
And not one of us knows
******* why

I wish I could devolve
Become a sea creature
Or a dog
I don't want to think anymore
About who I am
Or what I'm for
I don't want this pain
Like a soaked disgusting stain
Never leaving
Baring my name
Since I was a child
Crying
And crying
Because I understood
The sick twisted game
That is
Life.

We strive
We try
We dance
We live
We cry
We get by
We all move on
Without knowing where we belong
Without knowing what happens when we go beyond
Into that grave
So we make songs
And act brave

They say heaven or hell
Or nothing at all
Honestly it's clear as day
If hell is real
We're already here
I can't think of anything more ******
Anything more cruel
Then existence without due
Without a clue
Giving us hope
Giving us love
Giving us beauty
And a possible God above

With no certainty
With no time
It's a sick crime
Yet we submit
We commit
To this life
Until we die
Nothing means anything
Everyone goes
And we just breathe in all of our woes
Then we go on
Singing meaningless songs

God never answers
Never says where we went wrong
We must have done wrong
We must have done evil
To have to live a life
So fleeting
So empty
No answers
Just plenty
Of misery
Suffering
Fighting
Wars
Giving it our all
Overcome in chores

Someone dies
And we pretend not to care why
Or where
They may be and if in despair
Because we are in despair
We are lost
Without anyone to care

If God was real why doesn't he tell us
Why doesn't he talk to us
Explain all this pain
I think if he did
We may all forgive
One another
And actually want to live
We all burn and ****
And hurt and spill
Because we're afraid
Of the nothingness
Headed our way

vhs flickers, tv static, i blink once
and my whole world has disappeared.
i lean into the feel of your hands that call
my body “home”, but they do not feel me:
tell me what you want.

i watch the men mingle with women; touch
sandwiched between skin and the slick and
for once i cannot breathe because
it suffocates me.

what is it like?
to be given so much that you must take?

like oil on canvas, a vivid depiction of a love
we shared in my fantasy; i’m chasing after
a passionate night
still haunted by a graphite shadow.

gray winter light & umbrella for the rain;
i sit in my disappointment because this coat is
much too thin, so i begin to wish
that it is warmer for me in someone else’s arms

so much to give yet no one to share with.
it’s a tragedy, i know— i know love is born in the flesh,
yet swallowed through our bodies intertwined,
sweat & the afterglow of our parting lips
long after we’ve kissed

when i hover, heat of yours melds to mine;
skin warm, replaced by the gentle grasp of
wishing i had been— then your irises are raking
through ink of a book. breaths bated, arms
brushing because finally you do not see me

i step out into the rain bare,
breathing in satisfaction,
touched only by the purity of rain.
i can’t help but to smile as i let
the gloom kiss my skin

One day, a man stopped me and said,
"Little girl, you are a shining star,
Lighting the way as you go.
People worship you, your star burns bright,
Bringing warmth to those you touch,
Leaving them with lasting peace".
"You bless the trees with your gentle grace,
Flowers bloom as you walk past.
Waters sprinkle their showers on you,
Rain joins in with its melodious rhythm,
Bringing a drizzle of joy".
"They will see your star", he said,
"Burning brightly over them
Little girl, you are a burning star"
I look at the man before me,
Holding my hand, smiling.
I didn't smile back—how could I?
He was wrong.
I am no star.

night bleeds indigo and gray, and
a california chill seeps deep into bone.
white hot spotlights melt through my joints
as I watch you through half-closed eyes,
ignoring the ache that creeps into
the chambers of my heart.

among strangers, only your face remains clear
while my vision dims like dying lightbulbs.
for a moment i forget my lines;
but i am not an actor.
then we share this golden-lit bus, you & i,
skin sticky with sweat & iced tea.

five steps between us feel like miles.
knees bump over gravel...
bump, bump, bump...
through cuts of moonlight and lonely cigarette trails,
i wish you'd turn my way.

and my tired eyes will wander the aisle
while the voices between us fade like old leather seats.
footsteps mark time passing
on this midnight bus ride.

shadows will dance under streetlights,
and the words i want to say catch in my throat
like dewdrops at the sound of your laugh.
spring feels distant now,
and still i'd wait for you.

brushing arms leave trails of fire,
hands running through tangled thoughts.
my body resides between Newport's shore and sea.
i remember a friend's words:

"what else can you do but admire from afar?"

days later;
missing the midnight bus ride back home.

The things I do for her,
Their out of character,
She takes me far,
To places I haven't been.

I love her,
Something I don't say much,
If none at all,
But she's got me there.

Her embrace does it for me,
It's her gentle smile,
It's her charisma,
Even when it's night.

She's a proper lady,
She's beautiful that way,
Elegantly enslaved to perfection,
She reminds me of balance.

She's broken with me,
We relate in our sorrows,
And yet I want her out,
Of the two she's to be saved.

I will make sure she does,
One last time,
One last effort,
I will make one last dream come true.

Even at the cost of my happiness,
The cost of my logic screaming,
Saying we have nothing left,
And yet love for me is sacrifice.

Love for me,
Left me empty,
But I didn't it again always,
One last time.

With everything I have left.........
By:Jn

is it too much to ask
for my scars never to fade?
is it too much to ask
for you to care that they're there?

that once upon a time i did that
and i didn't care if you saw,
but now when i do it, i do it for you
with the hope that you'll care enough to notice me

and notice that i'm falling
and it's not just for you,
but my body is failing itself, and i'm going into that place again
the dark well that i can't climb out of.

i'm proud of my scars;
they show that i was hurting and dying
and yet now they're just scars and not still
bleeding.

why can't you even look at me?
why can't you even care a tiny bit?
you're killing me slowly,
but i know it's all my fault.

i'm sorry things are like this,
and i ****** it all up,
i'm sorry i'm like this,
sad, manic, dead inside.

i still want to show you all my scars
and i want to fall apart in your arms.

To be loved by me  
is like being held underwater  
and expected to learn how to breathe.  

I don’t feel like I’m from here—  
from this planet.  
To love me is inhuman.  

I’m a creature of the night.  
Don’t get too close,  
or you might cause me a fright.  
But if you get just close enough,  
we can have conversations  
that last all night.  

To be loved by me  
is like being drowned…

You lose yourself in me.  
I lose myself in you.  
It’s not just a pattern—  
it’s painted in the stars above,  
the ground below.  
You know we’ve all seen this show.  

I either make landfall  
like a hurricane,  
or like the rain  
that was supposed to come today  
but never bothered to show its face.  

To be loved by me  
is like being drowned…

It’s not that I’m unlovable…  
It’s that I might be intoxicating.  
And you know how it goes  
with toxic things:  
you either can’t put them down,  
or you know better  
than to ever pick them up.  

To be loved by me  
is like being drowned…

But what if I’ve never been those extremes?  
What if that’s just how you’ve chosen to see me?  
What if loving me is not like drowning?  
What if I’ve just been watering your seeds?  
What if we look between the stars and the ground?  

To be loved by me
Is like being drowned?

Is there a different story to be found—  
waiting to be painted  
by someone who can see  
both the stars above  
and the roots beneath the tree?