Someone asked me who I loved today.
And it got me thinking,
a name didn’t pop in my head,
Or I should say your name.
Your name didn’t drown my thoughts like it always did.
What you did to me didn’t start playing in my head like a silent film.
Your laugh and screams didn’t clash in my ears.
Your smile and snarl didn’t cloud my eyes.
Your fists and lips didn’t touch my body.
And wow.
Not feeling you felt really ******* good.
Not having my senses filled with you.
Felt amazing.
Not feeling your fists on my body even after you left,
Feels like gold.
Your hand grabbing my head to look at you so you can apologize doesn’t make me shudder.
I’m fine. And for the first time.
I think I mean it

I can not write.
My hands ****** in time.
I scream at pixels,
some dead in the corner.
I want to open up.  
Let it pour out as an ocean,
until overwhelming empty.
Composure must be kept,
as this is an art with structure.
The words must perform,
as dancers do before an audience.
As they read this,
it is only half of what is felt.
They can’t smell the rot,
that infects backstage.
The nagging screams,
that would make the world deaf.
Or be blinded by black,
during the bright of day.
I just want to be felt.
Release the tension,
of societies chains.
Or your chains perhaps.
They choke,
my voice,
inhibit my steps.
I want to just run.
Each send is a cry,
in a soundless megaphone.
Can I reach them?
Does this reach you?
I can’t write anymore.
Press send.
Scream.

I got an award
For being the stupidest young boy
With a wax soul
And impressionable.

I thought I'd find something
Nestled here amidst the trees
And I did,
But in no halls but the hall of god
Speaking to me
Dancing between the leaves
Singing with every whispered breeze
And yet when I stepped
Past the threshold and into the
"real world"
I was sold
A maniac of utter delinquency.

Everybody there
Waiting for their turn
Auditioning for the favor of hearts
They'll never win
Can't see
Laughing and wondering
Reading without comprehension
Sticking their *** in the face of the classics
Lap dogs licking the milk from
Professed *******
Thinking they'll be next

Its not resentment--
Is it fair to be bent
Towards dollars that've never been spent?

All those silly parks
Divided from the civilized lands
Frontiers of the past
Left to be little staging areas
For that invisible hand

Kids go on spring break
Take pictures between the towns
Maybe a stop along
On the way
To Vegas
Deep in the desert where it'd **** any other day

I cannot escape the unfathomable beauty of that place,
Living off the world in a way God said
To toil and love the pain
In a way nobody does

I am guilty of pride and
Stuffed like a pie full of anger
Cooking it into solid joy
And trying hard to scrape the cancerous crust away
All the dark sides we avoid

But screaming the heat away is good
Thermal induction is the name of the game
Entropic fizzlements like bubbles in the wind
Sublimating all that ever stood.

Yet soon enough I'll be born anew
And what I leave behind
Lifted up
Nautoloid shell
With a sparkling abalone interior
Someone will place on their shelf
And think,

"I wonder where that thing had been."