#af
They let themselves feed off my light
So that they could remain sustainable in their void.
Choke on the darkness.
Aug 19, 2021
Aug 19, 2021 at 8:24 AM UTC
No drink you ever drink
No cigarette you ever smoke
Is going to fill the void you feel
It never works
More, and more, and more
It is never enough
It does not work.
So, why, do you keep trying?
Again, and again, and again...
Instead you wake with guilt
and the void is bigger the next day
so you keep trying to plug that hole
but you are just making it bigger...
The hole cannot be plugged
It must be built up, from the bottom
Find your worth, it is down there
Find your self-empathy, it is there too
Find your confidence, it is not lost
Find yourself, it was once discarded
with your bottles, down that hole.
- IJ
Jun 17, 2020
Jun 17, 2020 at 8:41 AM UTC
In my thirties
Yet I still spend life drinking
Instead of living
I wonder, if I quit
And am still empty
Is that the end of the road?
I dare not try.
- IJ
Jun 17, 2020
Jun 17, 2020 at 8:30 AM UTC
that moment when you realize
too many of your poems
share the same title
because you are
unoriginal
af
Sep 5, 2018
Sep 5, 2018 at 5:06 PM UTC
It's still not ok
But then again, when has it ever been
Keep on screaming "its ****** up"
Take back your words, but you'll never take back enough
I've got a feeling over time
You'll stumble over what you didn't want to find
Keep throwing bricks against the stone
Chipping away, until you wear it down to bone
And you've broken everything away
I'm leaving you to rubble, burying your turn of phrase
And keep on screaming "its ****** up"
Save the world, but It will never be safe enough
And all your pity is in vein
Tripping over syllables, you never planned to say
It's not ok
But when has it ever been
It's still not ok
But I'm guessing that's the way it will stay
So keep on pouring out your guts
Slick as the ropes that I never thought I'd cut
And break yourself against the stone
Amid the bricks, you'll quickly find yourself alone
Not sure what to say
Not looking so happy now
Never a bad day
Still not ok
It's still not ok
Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 9:02 PM UTC
Imagine a world in which
you lived in a little house
in the middle of the woods --
an itty bitty cabin with creature
comforts and small necessities,
and paper and ink and tables and chairs --
in it
you slept and wept and dreamt,
and would walk and walk
never finding anywhere else...
always returning to your teeny front door.
The cabin sits in silence,
in semi-darkness most of the day --
the path of the sun moves
l a n g u i d l y
through the sky
and the neighboring trees
cast puddles of shade.
You wish for
companionship,
though you
aren't sure
what that means.
Sometimes,
along your garden fence
you find little bits of paper
or tissues
or wind-swept bottles
butting up against the slats.
The papers have names
and bits of stories:
of shootings and stabbings and
conniving schemers,
of donations and creations
and family boat-races;
and you wonder who these people are,
or if the pages are ripped
from some book you don't own --
and if the wind blows in
toward your tiny little home...
mustn't there be a way
to get out?
Nov 19, 2017
Nov 19, 2017 at 4:03 PM UTC
"...and then we get up at the **** crack of dawn, eat cereal for breakfast, take a cool shower to put some pep in our steps, then get in the car and drive around listening to our favorite music until the coffee shop opens."
pause
"And when we've finished our morning coffee and people-watching we walk around town looking at all the crap we want to get when we've saved up enough money for it and then get a slice of pizza or something. You know what happens next? We take our favorite books or whatever and go chill in a hammock that we set up in a corner of the college campus. You want me to bring my guitar so you can listen to the silly ditties I come up with on the spot? Sure. You want to go to a movie? Just say the word."
pause
"I don't really care what we do, as long as we're content. I'm just throwing out ideas."
pause
"I just want to give."
puts down mic and walks off stage *
Nov 26, 2016
Nov 26, 2016 at 10:51 PM UTC
nothing is ethereal
there is no peace
tangible world
holding tight
to the bricks
of my life
and it's all terribly
terribly
real
Aug 16, 2016
Aug 16, 2016 at 4:10 AM UTC
I picked violets for her
it was spring, the flowers seemed menacing.
Can I surpass a lilac past?
My thoughts are a deeper purple
and I'm drowning in petals.
Mar 19, 2016
Mar 19, 2016 at 1:29 PM UTC
as this flame stares,
i stare back
a light losing,
eyes already lost
the sky is breaking darkness and
my finger burns but,
i'm spiralling,
i float.
it's not chaos,
a swifting fire is my guide
a humble shape shifter under the moonlight.
this language it speaks,
i understand
with a pocketful of dreams to burn, and
clouds breathing through my soul
telling me
i'll be on the salty seas at twilight
Jan 17, 2016
Jan 17, 2016 at 3:16 PM UTC
*I don't hate them
I'm Jealous
I feel ridiculous
While having this feeling of lament
Whenever I talk, always
I always get cut off
I feel out of place nowadays
Even if I try to fit in as I could be of
Every statement I say is being ignored
I'm just trying to be strong
But inside my heart, it's stored
The things I've been keeping for so long
I'm reaching my limit
I'm close to breaking
But, just smile at everything
Maybe that would lessen my agony in it*
Jul 24, 2015
Jul 24, 2015 at 8:53 AM UTC
i crave a piece of every
being in this made up universe
to search for one common mind
i could plant a sky in their brains
or even paint a picture for them to agree with
and pick apart their sanity embedded in their skull
am i feeling sense of self?
and am i able to agree with yours?
when my intellect leaves my body
and all that enters is my head are voices
talking, whispering to a
filthy conscience
"I know i am not meant to
exist forever but i am
willing to stay alive to question it"
Jul 10, 2015
Jul 10, 2015 at 12:53 AM UTC
i used to worry about my screen time
but that was before i had to worry about my scream time
then, screen time meant 'keep me clean time'
and now im left with no time.
you see - i keep telling myself its high time
that i stop dancing in this rhyme line
and start acting like its my time
that this life line
(that was actually a knife line)
is not something that i should want to see online.
Jun 21, 2015
Jun 21, 2015 at 3:43 PM UTC