I have lost the hold of me
Wanna shout so so so high...

It's been really long when I heard my voice
Now it feels so chocked...

Wanna cuddle coz I hate this feeling
Not able to make out or in...

Hope I get out of this mess quick
Cause it ****..

I don't like anything new,
& I'm sick of everything I'm used to.
Sometimes thrive for something different
yet get bored of it in an instant.
Trying to hold on to what I already have
still, getting ******* at the same routine!

Nothing is really
All that strange
If you think
Too much or
For long enough
If there really is
A great big man
Who lives in
The clouds and
Watches our
Every move
Then why
Is it such a big deal
When people love
Each other
In a way they're
"Not supposed to"
If an immortal
Presence graces
Our every moment
Then why do we
Care if someone
Cuts their hair
When there are
Wars and natural
Disasters why do
We prioritize
Someone's abortion
In the news
Besides, who is
This "God" guy
Why the hell
Should we trust him
He "created" us
But we don't owe
"Him" anything

two lines
is not a poem
its two lines
it has no substance
no structure
its a thought
someone caught
is it noteworthy
not in the least
but the person
who writes without
themselves
there not present
here in the moment
of all the people who do such
who think it only takes that much
should give your head a wobble
it's just a load of cobble  
the two lines are just that
like a load of tatt
truly
poetry comes from a calling
a memory
a feeling
is nothing dust blowing in the breeze
you make a mockery of the art
like you just would ****
all over your page
not bleed at any stage
is it because your simply
not smart enough
to have a worthy entry
dig deeper into your soul
if you lack the talent
of this simple art
pray tell
are you worth more than
a **** ?
if you throw art away
thinking you can walk away
then i have this to say
your not an artist
your stuck in self pity
look in the mirror and think
where did you go
or did you just blink
those two lines
bug me more than
any times
i've seen anything else
are your not incapable
or simply not know how
i think you just don't give
the art the respect it so needs
look at yourself
a poem
is not two lines
a thought
a passing
a nothing
this is not your diary
find somewhere else to share
because i for one care
you lay the art bare
more effort should be found
if your words are to be sound.

Silence is sword
But I'm slayed by a word

For two years
we spent every day together
every night talking
I thought we were friends

For two years I listened to you
talk about everything
heart ache, family, work
I thought I knew you

FOR TWO YEARS
I SUPPORTED YOU
I HELPED YOU THROUGH SO MUCH
why now is it like this

You say now that I am your darkness
that I make you an alcoholic
You perverted everything we did
and tried to take my friends

For two months
you ignored me
We live together but you ignored me
now it’s been four months


And I’ve given up on you