Everything
That comes out my pen
My brain
And my wrists
Unsatisfying
Just simply
Not enough
It hard
To feel proud
When its nothing
But trash

Fragile
Like glass
That's what
You called me

Is that how I'm seen?

Cracked,
Shattered,
Broken
With a single push.

The pieces,
Never being the
Same.

Did you always
see me
as broken glass?

Was I some
Pity project
For you to "help"
For your own benefit?

Yet
When you thought
I would shatter
I didn't.

I may be glass,
But
I'm bulletproof.

i used your love letter to spit out my gum

people roll around in trash
in greasy wrappers
and tangerine peels
they mosh and jump
in an endless garbage mass
a shard of broken glass
in their ash-filled air-pump
but they never for a second
struggle to breathe

it's one big waste bin
cardboard boxes collapse
metal cuts through skin
plastic sticks to the wound
glass is cold and sharp
the people, seemingly doomed
exist and pass energy around
with a loud spirited sound

people roll around in dirt
and when they're done
they go, they come back home

with specks of wind
whirring in their ears
stirring the desires
of their blood-pumping vessels
silver string in their hair
turns out to be wire

sweaty, red foreheads
with earth smeared all over
clothes green from grass
and greener from clover

people roll around in trash
people roll around in dirt
and so do i, don't you see
the obvious stains on my shirt?

let’s watch history repeat itself
we know the song and dance by now
i’ll push you away with contorted hands
let the delusions block me out

i’m never satisfied, it’s the ******* truth
addicted to attention, obsessed with you
but my expectations are always too **** high
& it’s impossible to see me through

love’s nothin but a pathetic joke
built to erode
what did i try to preserve
even roses decompose

i’m in pain
just a silhouette lately
yea i’m listening to elliott smith
crying
what did you ******* expect

Reject
logic & respect
empathy --

expecting delivery,
goods given,
same goods returned.

I wanted to
merge into you,
the first sight
of your face.

Still do.
Still do.
I still do.
I still ******* do.

I want to
fall
into you.

I do not like jarring jagged poetry
Words scattered on the page saying nothing
Stagg'ring, stumbling, disjointed, blabbeing
From image to incoherent image
Splashes of colour, scattered at random
Slurred, the drunked's, or drugged's, speech or drivel.
Not all art is art, nor madness, madness,
The Spirit is One, and Beauty affirms.