Don’t call it wisdom that
you’d never known the pain
of being stung
and so with a childish naiveté
you cradled the dazed bee in your palm.

And don’t call it mercy that
when the needle lodged
burning into your flesh
so briskly did you crush
a creature
already fated to die.

I'm coming to realize that selfishness courses through the veins of others like a river of red, and I'm a foolish child flailing against that forever flowing current.

You're not gonna amount to anything in life.
The dreams you let deceive aren't something you should believe.
Nothing means a thing.
Everything is just in your fixation of an imagination beyond compensation.
"Unrealistic" You should listen, stop the flawless movement of your one track mind.
How could you let yourself be so naive?
You think you're so intelligent?
Why can't you sell it?
It's one thing to let yourself fall victim to your daydreams, but it's another to live in the fantasy.
Let alone be the only person taking part while everyone watches you lose your sanity. (granted you haven't lost it already.)
Do you ever stop to think? (or is that only over the small, careless things)
Back to the original statement, do you really think you'll make it?
If so, forgive me for saying what you need to see. (in all honesty I couldn't be more sorry, such pity, really)
How could you let yourself believe such absurd things?
Don't you think you would've learned as the years go?
(you're delirious, helpless, you won't make it, but hey! fake it, be my guest)

buried among
other favorites
you sing to me
about the girl
I used to be
beautiful
yet
reckless
oblivious
preoccupied with
my own
pain or gain
so naive

I dreamed then
I was naked
I dream now
I'm behind the
steering wheel
but the car's
driving me
out of control
out to sea

I hear your voice
and I want you
to come over
and wrap your
arms around me
I've grown older now
I'd never let you down

but then, too soon
the music changes
**** ******* jagger
reminds me
I've already
found what
I need

but instead of
being comforting
the choir, that chorus
it mocks me
and
it taunts me

maybe I will blow
a 50-amp fuse
I'm tired of
the self-abuse

I already have
what I need
but I think
you're what
I want

you're what
I feel
but it's
not real

you are leathered with residue
decaying the rust off your skin
with our initials crawling into
alabaster sheets that all I have really
felt while staring out at the streets
we're people fading by egotistical
lack of self confidence
even though I admit using
seducing strategies
possibly disgusted by my own
emotions
that I am placing ******
thrills on my own configuration
because it's humid and blatant
unkowling breathing ruthless sentiments
of our holy communion

I am splitting into a holy sin
drenched in blissful wartime rations
of water or passion
your cotton skin and these sheets
bold statements between white teeth
it’s all a fading mystery
you said I’m something childlike
your hands are stained cherry
and even if they were around my neck
I’d whisper your name like a vesper
simply waiting
for the day to come where it all fades
because you refuse to be a
young god
no matter how it seems to be
to me in all of my naivety

Im not gon' write a poem about you.
Uh uh.
I'm not about to allow you to make me FEEL
And allow you to fill
Me up
In such a way that my subconscious has to throw you up and onto a page
Nope
I'm not about to write a poem for you
Nooo siree, you see I've made that mistake
Prior.

When I was young and silly and hopeful.

I went and bought a fancy pen
The kind that writes so smoothly and makes my cursive extra pretty, but you know it bleeds?

I thought the ink that dripped from MY pen once it soaked through
It would sort of seal  us in the paper
Like I said, I was mistaken so
No.

I'm not about to write a poem for you TOO

And just leave myself exposed?
I mean who knows
if I replace those little tiny "o"s for hearts over my "i"s when I dot em that soon you could care less
For the stress on my esteem after you're mean leaving the apples of my cheeks with salty tears streaming down them
So naw'l
I refuse to tell the world how you made me blush when your lips found them.
Or how we had so much in common
It was raining but we just kept walking
You made me laugh until I was coughin'
I ain't gonna do it
I've learned its better to not let you soften-

my heart

But instead I mold bricks
cause it seems noone wants to actually bring any GOOD to it.
Seems 9 times out of ten all they want to DO
Is to do IT
when all I want is you to put
my hand in yours and stare into my eyes and search my heart and not my thighs
I'm not gonna try

And make this something more than what is was.

Just because of what I felt the warm and fuzz of flirty words spoken over Patty melts?
It was nice.
But I dont think that warrant's you a poem.

Not an admonition of my humanness
Not another proclamation of my foolishness

for allowing myself to think,
dare  I say hope
that those two hours of my precious life were 2 not wasted?
And Not worth the energy for me to store the memory
in the best way made for me to preserve it?
A poem?
How am I supposed to know that you deserve it?

But how can I resist within that moment?

After reflectin' on my day I find my mind keeps
pressing replay
on those two hours in Ferndale
And how we talked until nightfell.
Forgot to feed the meter cause what is time?
Hell I was frozen by you, guy.
I digged my nose into your life and just kept goin.
  
You had the audacity to inquire about my dreams and all my passions
and what makes me get up outta bed every morning

So I HAD to ask you back

And I listened
And I enjoyed what you said
And as we parted ways I had to immediately LIE
and document it in my head
Under "non-important"

It was nice

But don't let yourself get excited

Felt like I was on cloud 9 but gotta hide it
Come off the high
Cause what if in the end it's unrequited?

and I'm upset with you
Regretting you
No.
HATING you for letting me feel slighted
Yeah you tried it.

I mean YOU didn't.

At least not yet...

I just don't wanna write another poem that I'll want to forget.

Every rose dies
Because all beautiful things come to an end
Either destroyed by the natural fires of the earth
Or by the wrath of humans of the dirt
With every birth
There is a death
As with every rose
There is a story
A story told by those with fairytale lovers
Or those with broken promises
Hidden by ice cream and watery storms
Romance movies and sad songs
But that's just one story
Packed in one rose petal
Because with every rose, there's a different story
And with every story
There was once a boy who said sorry
Or a girl who said please forgive me
So you closed your eyes and nodded
After all, you could see the beauty in the roses
So why not let the bad thoughts
Slip right through our noses