I got you back
not sure if how long I'll have you back
but for now, I have you

For the last two months, you've had me on that blocked list
It's broken me
I use to love you
I use to say it all the time to you,
but now when you say it to me I don't know what to think
because yes I love you
but I can't get hurt again

You make me crazy,
I am so crazy about you its not funny.

I can't get you off my mind,
you've been there for me for the last two years.

I'm pretty sure that over the two years
I have learned so much about you,
I know more than your own sister does
you have bipolar,
you have girlfriend issues,
you have fighting issues,
so many issues that I know about that I'm not scared of.

I'm not scared of you
I am in love with you and nothing
absolutely nothing will change the love I have for you

I have written you so many paragraphs
I have told you several times I hate you,
You have called me several names and still,
nothing will change the amount of love I have for you.

You've stolen me from several guys,
telling them lies about me
because you need me
you love me
and you deny it every time
but honestly, that's okay
because I know deep down you are in love with me,
and I am in love with you,
and I won't deny it

Isaiah Micheal,
I am in love with you,
and you don't love me at all.

It's March 26, 2018, and I am just publishing this,
two days ago you blocked me,
two days ago I lost you again,
two days ago it all went downhill again.

History contends that on that score
hing hot summer at 6:00 pm June sixteenth
in the year 666 after the Devonian era,
two lovers - a Mister Belmont Me

and Missy Bryn Mawr Hu felt the call
of the wild within the wilderness
in ****** hinterlands of Penn Valley
and supposedly got cannibalized

by a Hottentot Mailer Daemon named
Manayunk Yahoo. All plugged stoppers
got pulled as the passionate children
of Mother Nature and Jethro Toll

rumbled, fumbled, bungled in
the jungle, and shook the firma
ment echoing subterranean cat a
combs with their private feral

Carnival antics.The ensuing Millennium
spawned one bizarre tale after
another each appending a more
farfetched tail spinning embellish
ment from the preceding legend.

Mary Waters ford considered as
the first person to record the shroud
of mystery lurking in the hollows
of sleepy hills, which rumor harbored
this legend of lost Lower Merion lovers.

Even to this day (one eerily similar
at that fateful bewitching hour)
one can hear the blood curdling
and hair-raising bacchanalia under
ground Brahmins deep pounding
beets on their crude ovens deep
purple within the bowels of the Earth.

Many believe present day tremors
that line the main tract hearken
Earth linked presence of sinning
wood nymphs and elfin grots continually

being birthed within many gnarled rocks
causing groundswell similar to
a Welsh Valley overtaken by hocked
conch blowing Harridans. Some
of these hardy adherents corn beef

hash tagged as unprintable expletives,
whose self-righteousness bound
by unwavering assertions of Woody
Woodpecker apparition. Visages of
fearsome flesh eating muscle bound

underground golems toting haversacks
as big as a town (surpassing the likes
of 1148 Matthew’s rolled into one)
sustains longevity of ogres not even

all the brooms could sweep away far
as next square rush new town. Although
rarely seen, but more often heard
tectonic vibrations that shake and bake

like local crowded house special chicken
Radnor (often cleft fissures upon flint ******
layers of bedrock comprising Delaware Valley)
infuses imagination of (top notch pugilists)

bravely ventured into this haunted haven
and vanished without a trace. Most likely
their fate became a gourmet meal i.e. tasty
as Salad Augustus with seven season Caesar dressing.

seminal squirt didst sanctify
   an anonymous boulder
when mercury dipped below
   hashtag mark registering colder

than usual temperatures circa
   winter of year 2000 in proximity
   to the sacred chapel
   at Valley Forge, Pennsylvania

   (house zing carillon player)
   rifling thru manilla folder
first inn search of apropos
   mailer daemon ***** muse sic,

   thence finely pitted secretly riddled with holes
   encoded sheet threaded thru bell jar contrivance
   sans, handy dandy mechanical holder
to accompany prurient powerful ******* pang
   bubbling (like the **** kens), and didst smolder

especially, cuz a free ranging
   NON GMO, **** in boots
hello kitty sauntered
   (emanating pheromone heat
   hand dill lee pronouncing feral passe faux foots),

dripping, seething with hormonal secretion
   uttered via vow welled roots
gluten and monosodiumglutinate free *****
   hapt tabby on the prowl ready
   for par laid view ****** piqued Saint Peter

   to enter heavenly labial shoots
rather than suffer frost bite
the above mew wing tigress attempted  
   to keep toasty warm
   ('thru minuscule tunnel

   lacked add **** quit light)
prickly endowment fired
   raging testosterone
   with braggadocio, brio, bravura and might

owing pretentiously pusillanimous feline
   fur reed black as night
hood hit attempt to cap cha moxie *******
   thus ensuing a mutually satisfactory plight

until a park ranger back his utility truck  
   than gregarious, felicitous, erogenous
then quick as greased lightening
   ***** creatures disappeared out ta sight.

We are one of a kind,
You and i.

Creatures of a similar feather,
Similar face,
Similar mind.

But we become named
Becomed blind.

The name and the nameless
At best beauty and the               .

The truth is for only yourself to find,

The true names of the blind

My name
Tristan Brown
That's who I am
But I'd like to think I'm more than that

My name
Hidden hero
Wearing his mask
But who really cares about all of that

My name
Costumed son
Behind his back
He'll never know I'm not just like that

My name
Hope's last chance
Behind her back
She'll never know that it's all just an act

My name
Wanted one
They want be back
Sadly for them I rarily come back

My name
Takes up space
Kicked in the back
Good for them I won't attack


My name
I don't know
I wish I did
I guess I'll pretend I'm all of that