#abab
The words I speak
Are for me.
Should the shoes fit,
You are me.
Jul 15, 2025
Jul 15, 2025 at 1:36 PM UTC
Thereunto Sky Filled with Scars
O’er our beheld Ocean of Teeth
Seldomly Throwing Up Clouds and Stars
In sets of three for three sets of Crying Trees
Up and upon each Screaming Mountainside
Till moons pass half past a Quarter to Live
Or they shan’t view their Island in my Eye
Instead betwixt a Desert and Crude Sieve
Alas, nary a River Through our Sun
Nor a Volcano up the Arctic
Dost commit to Minds Overrun
Or coups for Governments Oligarchic
Apr 7, 2025
Apr 7, 2025 at 5:44 PM UTC
When I see the face of my maker here
I’ve never seen a more beautiful thing
My maker is not God nor is it fear
Fear is just the outcome and the offspring
So far gone are the values of our men
Fighting in the names of Gods expired
Crying for the right to love so long dead
On shaking ground but argued required
You’ll see the face of your maker and weep
When recognized by your own scarring heart
If eyes open to spot that bloodied creep
A maker’s face may close both from the start
Your matching face can only seem to choose
Decide if he’s the maker or are you
Apr 3, 2025
Apr 3, 2025 at 6:03 PM UTC
on some summer days there’s a zephyr effervescent
a sweet summer wind that carries honey in its heart
with the sun’s loving gaze making all incandescent
78 degree days are a study in art
Nov 23, 2020
Nov 23, 2020 at 1:39 PM UTC
It amazed me just how quick
And it hurt me how much it kicked
I held a strong and sound thread
To a numbness that plagues my head
Metaphore or idioms can not compare
To the lack of feelings, even of despair
Monotonous tone hinders my voice
I'll hug my knees "I have no choice"
A laugh became a gasp of air
A conversation became a simple stare
Accidents I've made have turned to mistakes
A great fear to whisper and a fear to ache
My eyes that once would glow bright
Have been disguised among the night
A great fear I expressed long ago
Now is the truth I'd never show
Aug 20, 2019
Aug 20, 2019 at 4:42 PM UTC
Tell me what it’s like to fall out of love
So beautifully and with ease,
You walked away, me still on the street
And still managed to make it look like art,
Our love was never movie-like but the ending was,
Alone and grey on the pavement, begging for your patience
So I could prove to you one more time that I was worthy of being with
But you never wanted to hear it
Apr 17, 2019
Apr 17, 2019 at 5:42 PM UTC
Goodbye.
If I’d had the courage to ask,
And to tell you I’m not happy as well,
We’d have taken off our fake masks,
But I didn’t, so not-a-word we fell.
I wish you’d let out a call,
But your lips were pursed tight,
No plea for help in the fall,
Eyes locked on fading light.
It’ll hurt me to know memories fade,
And that my sadness will pass by,
I’ll hold onto the stories we made,
And the things we soundlessly shared inside.
Why did you end so foolishly?
In black attire and dark, misty eyes,
I’ll say my sorrowful eulogy,
A soft farewell and sad goodbye.
Mar 7, 2019
Mar 7, 2019 at 3:44 PM UTC
Every person I knew as a child will be taken away;
Every landmark destroyed or changed beyond recognition.
Soon enough even the memories will fade.
I see why so many people live through their children.
Nov 3, 2018
Nov 3, 2018 at 4:07 PM UTC
is it important to rhyme?
do the cool kids care?
will they give me the time
if the 4th line ends in a different sound than line B?
the nature of poetry's changed
we've given up the rules
we allow a greater range
of thoughts and rhythms and forms and types and schemes and what not
you can even follow tradition
writing old-school poems
but make it special edition
by ******** with people's minds and changing one little structural thing mwahaha
will this trend stick?
can i name this new style?
or should i just pick
whatever words come to mind to wrap up this so-called-poem
and make people wonder what the hell they just read?
Jul 3, 2018
Jul 3, 2018 at 11:40 PM UTC
A crackle of a shell
being torn
cast aside
The flutter of a wing
new and fresh
limp and weak
A squeal from the child
watching close
eyes are wide
The waiting and the rest
little wings
strength to seek
The wings are now stretched out
orange and black
beating slow
A flutter and a cry
take the air
sailing strong
It lands and then takes off
up again
high and low
It's lilting towards the clouds
out of sight
flies along
Fare thee well, young butterfly.
May 24, 2018
May 24, 2018 at 11:22 PM UTC
Knives.
Sleek, silver, shimmering.
It speaks to me,
"Come this way."
Mutilation
Is as bad as you make it.
To us it is just a way
To relieve some pain.
Blades.
They are so great,
emotional shade,
a short escape.
Stitches.
Two now,
by myself.
Still no relief.
Jan 11, 2018
Jan 11, 2018 at 2:50 AM UTC
X-acto eighteen
Its has been a while
Six months now I've been clean
Now just back in that aisle
Dried brown blood
Still remains
These feelings flood
I can't contain
Your sharp edge
Tears my skin
Now on the edge
I cry and grin
I feel better now
Or so it seems
But I can't allow
These dark extremes
Jan 9, 2018
Jan 9, 2018 at 9:56 AM UTC
The constant war in my mind
Rages like a hurricane
Annihilating humankind
Etching away at my brain
I want to be calm
I want to be cool
But I feel like a bomb
Sure to befool
Death is inevitable
So why should I cry
It gets too unbearable
We're all going to die
Jan 9, 2018
Jan 9, 2018 at 9:52 AM UTC
loneliness consumed you
while you were busy finding distractions
your eyes sunk deeper, your nights darker
you found a marker and wrote it out in black ink, you left half a cup of tea by the sink,
one final reminder that you could never clean up right, your scars were not quite healing
men came and went like hopscotch manic feelings, daily warfare, gentle as a tide though
you would let them in just to let them go
crafted a plan to **** yourself
because you didn't know anything else
but the bottom of a bottle you swore you didn't drink you spent 11 months sleeping on the brink of death
loneliness consumed you
you took the bad parts, shaped them into something you could swallow and fell in love with the high from your insides eating you alive now you're full of sculptures you gave up on years ago and maps of places, far away, where you'll never get to go
because you're bed ridden and tired, you're only 20 and you did it, you have carved yourself entirely empty
May 11, 2017
May 11, 2017 at 1:43 PM UTC
one day his words won't feel like knives
or stomach bugs, or shards of ice
one day his words won't haunt your dreams
or show up in once-happy memories
one day he won't be able to wrap his hands around you
even from a thousand miles away, when you've moved
to another state just to get him out of your brain,
wracking it for a thought that wasn't daunting,
didn't remind you every name he used,
one day he won't be able to
and it will be great,
I promise you
Jan 2, 2017
Jan 2, 2017 at 11:25 PM UTC
I'm giving up on myself today
I'm jaded and sleepless and need a break
I'm giving up on my goals today
I'm sorry and hope you can forgive me
I'm giving up on myself today
I'm sick of this fog surrounding me
I'm giving up on everything today
I'm empty and can't fill up again
I'm giving up today,
and will try again tomorrow.
Jul 15, 2016
Jul 15, 2016 at 8:04 AM UTC
A tall, thin man
stands outside my house,
it's cold out there and he waits for me to come out
The same young man wears a black hat
and a black blouse
he paces to and fro until he passes out
The tall thin man
waits for me to arrive
stands there singing songs
until he feels like he might die
He knocks on the door,
he sounds so polite,
begs for a minute,
and a glass of water if I might.
The man barges in,
he breaks my door,
he raids my cubbards
he stains my floor,
he spills my wine,
he eats my fruit,
the man feels nothing,
he continues.
While he wanders
through my house,
he spits out lines
as ironed as his blouse.
"Thank you for your patience"
"I really have to say,
you're very kind and giving
in the most pathetic way."
The man then goes up to my room
he makes my bed look brand new.
Then makes me now lay down and pray,
tells me that I belong this way.
I beg him to stop as my hands start to ache,
my heart froze up and he swore I'd been faking.
The man in the hat
the man in the blouse
the man that I let into my house
the man that stole
the man who broke
the man who I let take all control
that man took what he needed
that man then left
and left me bleeding.
On his way out he said goodbye,
he said farewell, and thanked my time,
before he took off to the sky,
he told me something I can't deny
"You're too trusting, my dear,
and look at you now,
you let people in out of fear,
and you are left the clown"
Jun 16, 2016
Jun 16, 2016 at 6:18 PM UTC
Its about one in the morning
I know I have to get up at 7
I wish I was knocked out snoring
I told myself I’d go to the gym at 11
I guess I can never keep a promise to myself
There are so many things I should do
But I just put **** off and keep it on a mental shelf
Why can’t I ever follow through
I told myself I’d tell you I liked you weeks ago
But then I figured that you wouldn’t care
You’re always with your friends for all I know
If I told you I bet you’d just stare
I told myself I’d get in shape this year
But surprise I actually gained weight
Being fat again is the worst thing I fear
This week I’ve tracked all the calories I ate
I told myself I’d try to stay in a relationship
But two weeks in I freaked and ended it
I got too annoyed kissing your lips
I can’t pretend to be interested in this ****
I told myself if other people are happy dating
Then I could probably be happy too
But I’m not comfortable with anything more than a fling
Monogamy just isn’t something I can do
I told myself I’d get my **** together this time
Yet I’m snorting addies at a Philly party
Then proceeding to cry about how I’m
Such
A
Piece
Of
****
Feb 1, 2016
Feb 1, 2016 at 1:31 AM UTC
Rhyming in a scheme
You should totally try it
It is not as easy as it may seem
Like finding a shoe that fits
Rhyming cannot be implied
It cannot be faked
It must be applied
It is like a good steak
A rhyme a day
Or is it an apple?
Will keep the lame away
But do not grapple
For it is rhyme time
Time to rhyme
Jan 10, 2016
Jan 10, 2016 at 8:29 PM UTC
I pick up a pen.
...or is it a gun?
and write about zen.
The world is all but one.
I pick up my pen.
...or is it my gun?
I will find it soon then,
the war is all but won.
I pick up a pen.
...or is it a gun?
I write about Jen and,
how war may lack fun.
Jen pick up her gun.
... it is surely not a pen.
my pen loses rhythm and so has the war
and the people who still fight all lose.
In the end we will all lose...
Nov 18, 2015
Nov 18, 2015 at 10:16 PM UTC
Alice in her wonderland could never have imagined
that the bounty of the promise land was not found in her companion.
She would have sought to make him king
she would have bought him everything.
But falling short of all her providence,
he would need some sort of evidence;
to show that indeed twas he
who from greed was very free,
and could love her in her poverty
if say, from above she'd loose propriety.
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 12:25 PM UTC
Scream your promises to my windows
I will answer to the streets
Carve forevers to my bed post
I will sleep covered in sheets
Keep your favorite record on my shelves
I might listen to them, unarmed
But I won't bother waking up early by myself
If you set silence as my alarm
Say that I never loved you, because
I'm like faraway stars in the morning
Feb 2, 2015
Feb 2, 2015 at 8:29 AM UTC
They say having good friends is like winning the lottery,
Well who gave me a fake winning ticket?
Every friend that comes and goes is just a mockery,
Of my undying kindness even for those who don’t return it.
Is it dumb to believe in the phrase “Best friends forever”,
Or am I just stuck in my 2002 kindergarten playground?
People seem to drop me like a bird sheds a feather,
And I am unwillingly isolated by the time I am found.
I was not aware that friends were like snacks in a vending machine,
Picked and chosen when it is most convenient for you.
I guess I am the little pack of crackers stuck in between,
The chips and the Mountain Dew.
God forbid that machine runs out chips and drinks,
Because then you may have to settle for my boring ******* ***
And maybe for once it actually won’t be a jinx,
But it’s too late I am no longer a convenience so I shall pass.
Aug 14, 2014
Aug 14, 2014 at 6:00 AM UTC
Here comes the days of craving tasteless food
To dip biscuits in tea by your bed
Today I'm the exact opposite of a *****
Groans and hmms and spitting red
Oh, but wait, my nose unblocked
I breathe with both nostrils now
The movie I just watched totally rocked
I feel like sleeping again, but how?
Toss and turn, take a pill
Blowing my nose some more
Cough drops? No, I've got nil
**** my throat will stay sore
Sep 19, 2013
Sep 19, 2013 at 2:24 AM UTC