Poets are murderers
Yes we are.
We are teachers of the ultimate truth
We enlighten the universe of the foundation of life
We teach them love
With sweet tongues we forge our words
Making them into beautiful sounds for the ears
And pleasant sight to the eyes.
We feed their hearts with fantasies and pleasant tales
That make their soul hunger for this sacred truth called love.
Then fate flips the cards
Attention here and there from strangers we never knew
Disciples we never saw, followers who clung to our every word
Pleading for that sacred love that we taught
But this love is not ours, we are only messengers of this
Sacred love that most of us never had.
It becomes our duty to **** their innocent heart
And shatter their simple soul with the bitter truth
That they fell in love with the poem and not the poet.

I speak in the heat of the moment; I forgot to tie my mind’s shoelaces and now I’m spluttering in ways I recognise from falling over as a kid. My words fumble over themselves the same way my hands did the first time they tried to find yours. Reaching for something familiar should have come so natural and maybe that’s why I was so shaky, because I had surrounded myself with unfamiliarity and it became all I knew, but then you.

          But then I had seen the walls of your bedroom before.

I had felt your palm.

                                         I had tasted your skin.

I knew your scent, or maybe it just smelt so much like an unspoken promise we made a lifetime ago that it lingered in my mind. I do not know if I was real before I met you. Directionless has never been pretty but I am a wanderer and I have opened fields within myself to plant daffodils in your honour.

I forgot to tie my mind’s shoelaces and now here I am, staggering upon syllables hoping it bows together to form something less loose; something for you to chew on, something to fill you up. I have tasted dirt plenty of times. I sank my teeth into it those times I used to fall over as a kid but I fell for you and all I can taste is honey. I have been pollenated with seeds and I cannot stop blossoming visions of you and our future and they pour out of me on to blank pages and create something worth reading.

I am still directionless, but it can only ever be beautiful with you by my side.

I speak in the heat of the moment and I am ensorcelled by your mind and I try to speak less to listen but you create floods within my throat and it cascades out of me in spoken promises and too many “I love you”’s for someone who agreed to only tell you twice a day – I cannot. I love you, and my heart resides within you.

Language is a man made construct
Just like time which, I don’t know about you but it always leaves me ******
Yet how is it that a thing created by us
Can decide which words are fine and which are a cuss?
And how is it that this wide intricate system
Can spread hatred across nations but also instill wisdom?
I’m confused at the concept and why it’s misused
Some are enriched by it and others abused
Why do we sling racial slurs at our brothers
And shout things we wouldn’t dare say in front of our mothers
She’d slap you into next month if she heard the words coming from your mouth
I don’t blame her one bit it brings us back to the old south
It’s disgusting and vile
Each awful word should be held up on trial
Let’s rise up together and eliminate the feeling of being low
And let’s please band as a team and silence Jim Crow
Because no one deserves to feel like they’re less than human
No matter if you’re a CEO or a day and night crewman
I don’t get the point of wasting this gift
On the feeble minded idiots who think they’re so swift
But in reality they’re just ignorant and insolent fools
No more useful than broken and rusted garden tools
I’m not saying we should get rid of them
I’m just saying their presence is as about as appealing as phlegm
And I don’t know about you but I think that ****’s nasty
And I think our whole world needs to change beyond vastly
Because by not educating these people who think they’re hot ****
Our society grows more divided slow bit by bit
And before we know it we’re moving back in time
Regressing from our progress and adding more grime
To the already difficult world we live in
The ice that we tread on is getting quite thin
And I’m telling you it’s time for us to make a change
And if no one agrees then fine I’ll seem deranged
But I’m so sick and tired of the anger and violence
I hate the news and these killers who are crazy and tireless
You may think I’m getting political but that’s not my intent
On making a difference is where I’m hell bent
Think what you want and do just the same
But when your family is in danger then who will you blame?
You didn’t act for a cause or voice your opinion
Now you might as well be a follower or one of the mindless minions
Running around like a headless chicken
The moment it affects your life only then will you quicken
And it’s comical to me how the politicians they stammer
Because there lives aren’t in jeopardy yet still outside we clammer
And their doors are made of prejudice and history
Why it’s doomed to repeat itself is clearly no mystery
It’s happening now, don’t you see it taking place?
These high and mighty ******* are trying to save face
But come on we know what’s really going on
They expect us to hold hands and sing a peaceful song
But we won’t and we’re ****** and signs only get us so far
It makes me sad reading about another person plowed down by a car
Or this time was it a van?
What’s next? Will the people ask for a ban?
As I told you before I’m not getting political
It’s actually repulsive yet some think it’s trivial
We blame the things that people use to ****
The guns and the weapons that give them the thrill
But what about the other things that cause more death
Like cars and alcohol or even ******* ****
I’m sorry it doesn’t makes sense
I’m doing my best and hence
This obscure piece of writing was born
About sharing it with the world clearly I was torn
But I decided it would be worth it
And in the current situation might fit
Say what you want and still I’ll stay moderate
But if you use your words for evil
You better be ready to get hit and swallow back wads of your own ****** spit
Because no one is having a plate of what division is serving
Every single person on this earth is unique and deserving
And why we can’t all just love is a thought too beyond me
I hope for a world where our eyes open and see
I can’t even keep it all straight
All the incessant backlash and insurmountable hate
If you don’t use your words then what’s the point of our language
How about we use it for good and get rid of the anguish
I know this was long and thanks for bearing with my message
Now let’s all work together because I’ll be ****** if our generation is just another percentage

I never was one to swim
And now I am an Olympic diver
Ready to splash into your skin
And collide with you

I never was one to sing
But I find myself belting out tunes
Because they remind me of you
And your voice is the sexiest thing I've ever heard

I never was one to swallow my pride
Yet the embellishment of your words
Entangle me in humility

I never was one to stop to smell the roses
But the fragrance of you stops me in my tracks
Like a lion on the prowl

I never was one to feel good about myself
Yet you show me everything I am
And everything I could be

I never was one to love
Yet you make it so easy
You make it so effortless
That now I can say
I can't help but love you

I am human. I am just like you.
There is nothing different between us.
But that’s where it gets complicated.
I am not the same as you. I am a different person
I have a different life. I have a different background
I have a different face.
I have a different past, and I have a different future.
If you look around yourself, this is true for all of the faces that surround you.
But we are the same, right?
We are all human; we are all part of the same earth
The same creation story. But that’s not true either.
Your creation story might be different than my creation story.
And your story might not accept me as a part of humanity.
I cannot change who I am. When I was born
I fell into a concept most of you didn’t.
The faces I first saw were so similar. Both bearded.
Short hair, tears running down their faces.
Two men sobbing tears of joy. Their daughter had been born.
The first two years of my life I thought that having two dads was normal.
Little did I know then, it was. But not the normal other people think of.
People think normal is a mom and a dad and two beautiful children.
I was never able to call anyone “mommy,” and I turned out perfectly fine.
My whole life I have been surrounded by men loving other men
And women loving other women etc. My best friend has two moms.
One day, when we were seven years old
Someone came up to us and said
“Hey, your dads should get married to your moms.”
I laughed then and walked away, but I never realized
How much that would hurt five minutes later.
Those words were like knives. They burned like fire.
I wanted to go back and yell at that kid.
His ignorance blinded me, and I could not speak.
His words didn’t leave my head and never have.
I like boys, yes, but guess what? I also like girls. And that’s normal.
I can love a boy, but I can also love a girl.
I have been telling myself this my entire life, and I realize that it’s true.
It’s who I am, and I can’t change it.
I don’t want to change it, because I am human
And you are human, and you can love whomever you want.

"You're handsome nephew, how are you single?"
Im not auntie, but thanks for the compliment.
I know mirrors lie and photographs exaggerate
But I'm not when i say I've never felt any reason
To truly believe that statement
Its grated into my head that I'm... just there in all reality
Not exemplary, not on the other side of unpresentable
Just... there.

"But you're so sweet anyone would be lucky to have you!"

I mean i try to not be an inconsiderate pile of garbage because that's not how i was raised to behave but for some reason not being argumentative over the littlest things or going out cheating is misconstrued as a lack of testosterone or an unwillingness to stand up for myself or my own... that's part of why i take my feelings out not on my S.O. but in poems...

"You'll find someone eventually!"
I appreciate the thought but i doubt it seriously
I'm serially alone, which someone will have to work a near miracle to overcome
But no one is gonna do that, so alone I'll remain like i live on the other side of the sun

I sat in a field, picking at scabs,
letting red pool around my old orange shoes,
tainting yellow dandelions and the green between them an ugly shade of maroon.
The sky above was a clear blue,
clearer than my head
as I stared at the hues of indigo and violet marring my skin like a display, a show.

It’s unfair,
the way the world is so colourful,
unmindful of the individuals.
The rainbow is its aphrodisiac,
keeping it turned on- I mean, turning!-
when my world is but in shades of grey and black.

I walked home with viole(n)t thoughts in my mind
as indigo settled in next to blue for the night.
I ignored the gorgeous green around me and, instead,
saw yellow ambulances and orange cones in the moonlight
where I imagined my body will lie after I jump,
after my skull cracks against pavement, my sight, red before it turns black.

It’s unfair,
the way everyone can enjoy the colors
when they blind me, burn me, hurt me with their intensity
until I want nothing but to strip them away,
throw them away so that I won’t have to lie when people ask me:
“Look around, isn’t the world beautiful?”
Because no. No it’s not.
It’s so ugly I’d rather die than to pretend I see the colors everyone else seem to breathe.
My world is monochrome and I want nothing to do with it.

I walked up the stairs, hands red with dried blood
and I toed my orange shoes off, noticing the mud,
when a flash of yellow broke through my woe.
A dandelion with its stem still green kept me company in my time of keen pain.
And although I still felt blue,
in my chest warmth bloomed for the first time since self-inflicted indigo bruises and
violet-outlined contusions wormed their way into my life.

Without noticing it all this while,
I wasn’t alone, working my way through the day.
Without knowing it all this time,
a dandelion followed me, making sure I was okay.

So the next time I feel the dark, the dust, the grime
threaten to engulf my colors whole,
I’ll know to look for dandelions,
‘cause no one is ever really alone in their hellhole.

When I'm drunk and dancing it's like no ounce of sadness could enter my body.
Feelings of insecure pavilions can't grow here like the mountainous structures of unturned love affairs they often turn out to be.
The lights go down and I find purity in being invisible, replaying, relaying all the unrequited sadness at its most human.
Time here doesn't count. We've left the world daring, as an unfortunate thing that needs no sense or matter to put it to rest. Here we're all too trusting.
If abandoned steps of forgotten shopping malls, lips in ear, or new found friendships entrenched in cups of coffee could show us anything it's that people never last and feelings harbour longer than I ever wished they would.