I question whether to hold you within or to let you go.
I stare at the life holding on to the nothingness,
Thinking I haven't done anything but held on to the emptiness,
Oh life, how do I let you pass me by everyday?
Oh life, how have I let you become so stagnant?
Trying to find the corners of the emptiness
I forgot how to look at you.  

I know my priorities but not how I want to work for them,
I know what my goal should be but desert is all I see,
Mirages of the could've been and what ifs.
Emptiness, Why did I let you in? Why can't I let you out?
Emptiness, you are strong, though you make me weak.
You make me question my existence,
You make me believe my demons.

I wish I knew how to quit you,
But you are my companion,
The one that never leaves.

there was a boy who looked like moonlight;
beautiful and
fleeting

yet this eclipse
seemed to hold on forever

she waited for him like sunrise

Every single time we go to your car to light up a cap or a bowl
that never leaves us with nothing, we can feel something, even if it’s just the stinging in our fingertips as we draw ships and cats
on the windows, convinced we could make masterpieces
if we really wanted to. When we finally gather enough ambition to move inside, I sit on a couch somewhere and think about how my life
has led to a moment like this and I question every insecurity, every decision, and every conviction, but I just can’t get over how nice
it would be to taste cake or cream cheese bagels right now
and eventually we end up watching the same shows with the same people who make the same mistakes every single episode and it really does remind me of that video you showed
me with the disturbing sitcom theme song that never ended,
and that’s what this night is all about.

Disregard my silent replies, I’m listening,
I just keep staring in the mirror and wondering if lacquered eyes
and lazy expressions are what you think looks good
on me because whenever you look at me, I try to focus on your face before you kiss over my ribs and I take my socks off
because there’s safety in socks and maybe that’s why we feel
such a devastation when they can’t be found. I’ve lost mine in your
room and I think maybe that stands for something, but here’s the thing:
I just don’t understand why everything you do makes me so nervous.

Pain is stagnant
It never evolves
Or flows
It never evaporates
Or rains
It stays always
Crystal clear
always reflecting hate

I can never compensate for the poems I have misplaced,
Yet I proceed to shed sincere ink upon an empty canvas,
and revert towards elusive answers.
I once again resort to the preferred instrument,
And stumble into a liberating trance.

However, genuine introspection often
Unearths wretched recurring recollections,
That have served as the creative source
For previous poetry collections,
Some of which cannot be read
Without a deep sense of dread,
Hence I flinch from acknowledgment instead.

How disoriented am I?
As disoriented as 20 year old Kimberly
Her derelict of a son is an embodiment
Of her youth blues memories.

How aimless it must be to venture
Amidst the sanctum of stagnation.
It was not long before even the architect
Began to disdain his own laborious creation.

Why wouldn't he?

He was a fool to build
A foundation out of complacency.
The structure is able to endure
Since it thrives off of a perpetual tragedy
Of self-defeating beliefs, lascivious senses,
And misguided aspirations.

Unfortunately, whoever it houses
Collapses out of utter exasperation.
An inevitable predicament I predict
Will confront me as soon as I deteriorate mentally.

The sanctum itself testifies to an aphorism
I recount hearing during a melancholic plight:
Truthfully, throughout the ages,
Fallibility has always been
Among humanity's playwrights.

6/18/13

(c) 2013 Brandon Antonio Smith

You do know
that I will grow
and evolve
without you?

Do you know
that you’ll stay behind
and be all alone
as you’ve always done?

Greedy claws cannot claim ownership
Of a stagnant heart.
One who cannot feel, cannot be owned
By an affectionate other,
Who sees all but the blood
Trickling down stained walls.

I’ll place death between my lips
Before allowing the death of another.
I’ll offer to hand over each breath until there are no more
Before I take the breath of a grieving life
I will not listen to muttered howls
Or tolerate gratitude for phony medals around my neck.

I will never defeat paralysis
Nor will I slaughter yours.
I bear no swords or heroism
I merely count the phases of the moon as it passes
I am brittle, I am incompetent,
And I am content, as I expect no more.

These walls are fading, finally,
As all others do
Eventually.

I want what I can not have.
I can not have what I want.
I can not want what I have.

A lost cause.
I do love myself,
But I do not recommend doing the same.
For I am a stagnant heart
And I no longer feel remorse.

Cover your eyes and flee;
The villain has red-stained lips
And she functions in ways
even science can't fix.

i'm stuck in this ******* clear box with nothing but my conscious mind and my lifeless body and all i can do is watch everyone around me move on with their lives. this anxiety has left me stagnant  for the past two years and i'm not strong enough to physically push it out of the way. they all say to follow my dreams, do what i want. but they're only contradicting themselves by not allowing me to venture out. how the **** am i supposed to get out of this box when it's locked from the outside and i'm the only one who has the key?

Today I cried. I want to let go, and feel like ****. Everything I work for or attempt to achieve never forms or becomes complete.
I wish for nostalgic dreams and the events of yesterday that will never occur again.
I take the rudimentary paths of eminent peril and feel so ******* desolate.
I work diligently and yet I have nothing.
I need a change, happiness, caregiver....
I hate and love so easily.






I miss everything.

I have the feeling of being a stagnant pool,
watching life go on around me.
Waiting for some pebble
that never drops,
to spread ripples along my surface.
Don’t get me wrong,
I’m not unhappy,
I just feel that there
should be more to life then this…
I don’t know what.
I look back and I can’t say
I’ve accomplished much of anything.
I am not well know and have few friends.
I know I’m young,
but I am so aware of my life slipping away,
day by day.
Change affects me slowly and in small ways.
I can hardly perceive it,
waiting seems all I can do.
So I wait….for life.