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Guden Oct 2017
I cross the same bridge everyday,
There are always the same people,
With their different purposes,
Or is it the same?

Today I saw God begging for a coin,
On the bridge.
Nobody looked at him,
I guess they were mad,
So was I.

I came to God and slapped his face,
He understood and didn't fight back,
I hit him for everything,
Like an ant that escapes from the farm,
After several minutes I remembered that I don't believe in God,
Not this guy with a beard anyway,
So I stopped and continued my way.

I returned for a last punch in the face,
Just in case.
This reminded me of my first fight with Tyler.
ry Sep 2017
but I know what i dont have
i don't have the time
the walls are closing in on me
these walls the ones i created
the closer they get the less i can breathe
roaming in circles gets me nowhere
but its all i know how to do
by now the only thing i can do
is stand here and let my dizzy mind
get crushed by these four towers of impending doom
i aint got time - Tyler the creator
its one of my favorite songs but sometimes I think of it in the opposite way of what its meant to be
Pauline Morris Sep 2017
My Diamond

By this life I've been cut to pieces, they're all there on the floor
Thousands of jigsaw shaped pieces, I'm not easy to explore

Only one person could look and see what was really me
Now that he's past, what will I become to be

For I'm constantly walking in circles, getting lost in the dark
Instead of a loving hand, all there is, is a question mark

I feel myself slipping backwards, further down the hole
Slide past the diamonds formed by pressured coal

You promised to be my diamond the hardest of all rocks
But even diamonds crack, with the ticking of the clock

I'm so very lost now, even more than before
Because you'll never again walk through my door

Only you could look at the jigsaw, seeing the beautiful picture it was supposed to be
Only you ever had the love to see, all that made

©Pauline Russell
Tyler Castro Jul 2017
Neither girl nor male… So what am I? Am I the so-called perv aiming to invade the wrong bathroom? Am I a heretic aiming to impose my wickedness onto the world? Am I the clocking stares they give me? How about the result of a broken home or a broken heart? Does my mere existence force you to reevaluate your identity? When all I'm trying to do is figure out mine. Neither girl nor male… So you tell me where I am to relieve my bowels. Or am I to stitch them shut for your comfort? While I'm at it, shall I stitch my eyes shut as to not burden you with running mascara; which further assaults my "feminine façade"? I'm sorry to burden you with my fake *****, of which a second of labor (turning your head) would relieve you of your distress. I'm sorry you'd rather slave away starring and clocking them. Clocking me. I am sorry that I was born male yet refuse to live up to such expectations. I am sorry that despite my best efforts I cannot pass for how I feel. Believe me—for the life of me—I am trying. As punishment for lack of natural *******, I stretch my skin to form a pleasing cleavage. As punishment for having the wrong body type, I wear a cage around my abdomen two sizes too small that cuts into my rib cage dare I seek the comforts of sitting down. As punishment for being born with a male anatomy, I crunch my disheveled sack of nerve endings between my chaffing thighs. Dare my body have the audacity to ***** itself for any reason I bend the muscle, in such a way never intended, between my legs just to have one less aesthetic reminder as to what I am not. Your clocking stares painfully remind me that I may never be seen as how I see myself. But ****** do I try. Until I do, I am condemned to be neither male nor… female.
By far not the worst struggle in the world. Disheartening nonetheless.
Tyler Castro Jul 2017
I would be amiss
Iffen I were to dismiss
What a seemless bliss

What a lie is this
To pretend that I don't miss
Our soft and gentle....

Silence on my lips
Though my heart's Gaurd lay remiss
A good man's premiss

My soul beckons, "Bis"
I guess what I'm saying is
Wonderful was our....
Pauline Morris Jun 2017
In my room locked up tight, so no one else could see
I got your shirt from it's hiding spot and held it close to me
I buried my face in it and inhaled, it still held your wonderful smell
I closed my eyes so very tight, it was almost like you were there
I could almost feel your arms the way you would  hold me tight
I  almost heard your voice, telling me it would be alright

But reality always has a way of creeping in
There is no stoping, tears flowing again
I will never again love, how could I
There's absolutely no reason why
Only left with halve a heart, and that part is shattered
Besides there'll never be another you, so it really doesn't matter

©Pauline Morris
Poem for my soul-friend that passed a almost a year ago
Tyler Castro Apr 2017
Conceived at night, tomorrow be mourn
Still and quiet, Wretch's babe be born
Hex for hex, curse for curse
The Witch's undoing shall be the worst
May my friend Aim pay a visit
May his screams be exquisite
Father of dog food, husband of a Harlot
Miraculous keeper of her loose undergarments
May his eyes boil and his organs char
Mere punishment for her promiscuous charm
Child and homeless, she'll wonder through the dark
Mere atonement for my aching heart
By Tyler Castro
Anger brings out the worst in people...
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