#alt
hand in hand,
whispers of love,
shared music
and spit.
all behind
the safety of
your bedroom door.
people ask,
they wonder
if you are mine.
I ignore their questions,
none of their business.
making out to
my chemical romance
doesn’t concern
anyone but us.
hidden feelings,
denied labels,
my secret.
Feb 11
Feb 11, 2026 at 5:04 AM UTC
black nails peeking
through fingerless gloves
look like they were made
to be worn by her.
lip ring over her rosy lips,
eyebrow piercing glints
in a shard of sunlight.
of course, it suits her perfectly.
raccoon-tail dye job,
hair just past her ears,
covered by an old beanie.
she pulls me down to her ear
and licks her lip.
i look down—
eyes, dark as midnight,
rimmed in black,
catch me,
and i swear my heart
is loud enough for her to hear.
so i hold my breath.
everyone calls her a freak,
but they obviously just can’t see it.
and i shouldn’t want her either,
but i do.
i’d wrap myself right around
the skull ring on her pinky finger.
and she knows.
god, she knows it too.
Dec 2, 2025
Dec 2, 2025 at 5:30 PM UTC
In the rose field
lush and blooming splendidly;
Be the cantaloupe.
Jan 12, 2024
Jan 12, 2024 at 12:49 PM UTC
I want to lie in the low lights
Listen to loud alternative music
Feel chemicals relaxing my body
And forget
Jul 23, 2020
Jul 23, 2020 at 3:02 AM UTC
Mein Leben ohne dich ist so viel besser
Aber mein Lieber, ich habe deine
Liebesbriefe noch einmal gelesen
Jul 13, 2020
Jul 13, 2020 at 7:21 PM UTC
This must be it
Welcome to the new year
The drinks were consumed
The plants were destroyed and the hor'deurves dismantled
I'm not smiling behind this fake veneer
I am often interrupted or completely ignored
But most of all I'm bored
I'm trying to find out if my words have any meaning
Lackluster and full of contempt when it always ends the same
Why won't you listen to me
Why did I come
Oh why did I come here
These humans all ****
I'd rather be home feeling violent and lonely
I'm not trying to sound so insincere
But the postcard that's taped to the freezer reads "wish you were here"
How I wish I could disappear
Jan 8, 2020
Jan 8, 2020 at 2:30 PM UTC
They're evil and edgy
Partisans pledging
Communal wedging
Without hedging
Alt right
Salt might
Halt flight
Until whites
Are the blight
Dynamite
Exploding heights
Out of sight
An extremist
Screams this
Dream wish
Of king fists
Being dished
To the fish
In his own aquarium
His subjects daring him
To callously bury them
If they are married men
Because they carry dems
So a way to parry then
Is to say they shouldn't wed
By having them condemned
Minds frozen still
Imposing will
Exposing ill
Intent to ****
For dollar bills
Expect the shills
To get their fill
In their royal mill
With soil drills
Of oil spills
On toil hills
They're usually uneducated
Which can't be understated
And can't be underrated
They're the ones that say it
With pride and hatred
Until we're berated
And never related
While those in the dark
See them as marks
To create sparks
That feed sharks
And bleed hearts
When ends justify means
They fight and scream
As a way of blowing off steam
Keeping others from the American dream
No matter what their character seems
They see people as being on teams
And hate those not part of their scene
Which they call a grass roots movement
But the grass hasn't seen any improvement
Only the doom sent
By the hollow gloom vent
Of our atmospheric dent
A torchlight
Of foresight
Affords light
In sore nights
To ignore slights
Before fights
Implore bites
Of more plights
So I store fright
With all that is trite
Yet fear is their motivator
And their mode of behavior
Searching for a savior
Of the Caucasian flavor
To be their maven slaver
To lead the craven players
To their haven layer
On the simple surface
That can be purchased
Until we live in a furnace
And the planet's a dirt pit
For fascism we flirt with
Our country turns worthless
Sep 29, 2018
Sep 29, 2018 at 12:33 AM UTC
but i am putting it down
until it hurts
and grips me vicariously
'til i'm twisted around-
i'm turned into a mug's handle
it's the same plastic feeling
i had before
i miss the solid glass,
and the strips of wood
i teased with my angel fingers
the mirror couldn't see me
today
i didn't let it.
how could i?
my eyes are too small, here
shaggy planet earth
was invaded in 1981
beginning with my first soul:
i was so young
i didn't know better
tossed out, i'm left to drink up
the abundance of this world.
swallowing more light and dark
than my small eyes can;
i turned to ethanol.
hemingway entered my life
in the fall of '09
i couldn't have been more in love.
maybe that's why
i'm pen in one hand, drink in the other.
Dec 19, 2017
Dec 19, 2017 at 1:58 PM UTC
and so here we are in pieces
theres something about this starving that
feels so appetizing
something about this apathy
this undecided feeling, something about this week
that seems so far from real
maybe it's the way i love the word haunting
the daunting snarl of crumbling
papers on homework after homework but somehow you're still failing
it's filling your lungs over and over with air
breathing in until you've lost feeling just to notice
you are still drowning
maybe it's the trust you lack in others
maybe it's in your inability to speak to anyone lest they ask first, waiting until the very last second before you complete something you hadn't done,
stressing over a list you've yet to make
feeling like your heart might burst with every bite you take
maybe it's friends, (or a lack-thereof) maybe it's you seeing them with so much love, maybe you've just become jealous or perhaps not enough?
it might be double texting on airplane mode, wishing you could have anything to say though you never really cared much about them anyway and...
and maybe they just hate your guts
but
maybe it's just you
maybe it's simply "another thing you've found to worry about"
maybe it's "because you're always on that phone"
maybe you've been the one in the wrong all along
because hey, those who stress so much about themselves but be selfish right? must be jealous. must be hard thinking of yourself so much that you've become a walking time bomb with a ticker that can never turn off.
must **** knowing nothing and thinking you know it all.
anxiety must be rough...
but maybe you're just not anxious enough?
Oct 8, 2017
Oct 8, 2017 at 9:19 PM UTC
Spinnin and spinnin
Head breaks off into a branch
The ends of my fingertips thin out
Like
I am dense in the middle: thin around the edges: i can feel myself melting away.
He told me
Ill meet you there, but someone will hurt you when the time is most wrong
boywasiright
Oct 7, 2017
Oct 7, 2017 at 12:48 PM UTC
my heart broke and spilled on the highway
completely
out
i dont have any interactions with ppl that are not customer service interactions
im lonely. feels like my brain is just logged off.
with an axe i start to work throoo my leg
my brains just off
1 million dollar winner
oh my brains just
off
wont go on
i hit a pothole, pop my tire and
lose control
911 how are you today im amazing cuz I love life
im laying in the woods and i can't fall in love
with a hammer i work at my head
til its far gone
Oct 7, 2017
Oct 7, 2017 at 10:32 AM UTC
I am one but also many, there's no disease but I'm no shiny penny, I have many faces some you may know, some you may see, we all come and go.
So be aware on how you fare when a new face passes by, for with all these aliases that I accrue, how do you know that I am not you?.
Oct 5, 2017
Oct 5, 2017 at 6:36 AM UTC
im searching for some other side
some homeless home
where im gone
means less than letting go
more of getting home
is it so bad that my thoughts are showing outloud?
soft only seems safe in concept
im more cigarette ash,
vowed to still water but a silent ****
more of a secrets embodiment
or just a body
the more i think of it.
the more i think it probably should've been me.
whats a guilty conscience if you're never even conscious?
darling i know it's my fault
but while i sit, silent, gaudy, ornate,
i feel it forming in my stomach
i'm sorry i've never home anymore
it's just been getting difficult to face anyone
i miss our silent talks
it hurts feeling so far gone
if i die do you think hell could be my home?
Aug 23, 2017
Aug 23, 2017 at 3:51 PM UTC
bathroom floors always feel colder at night
and
i guess depression can never quite leave ones mind
and
i guess my dad can never get his head on right
but
its all in my head, these things
its all make believe
right?
weve been edging on a state all summer
and
perhaps i forgot the difference between happy and apathy
but
you know ******* everything don't you?
cuz i cant feel a god **** thing
i said i felt good or good enough
but i chased this demon and boxed it up
i spun stories all undone now, figured out pushing down is better than falling flat on the ground
bring me to church and even closer to tears again
show me the things i hadn't known i'd been trying to forget
and
hold my shaking arms as i fall apart in your hands and
ask me if i feel so tough
is that enough?
will it ever be ******* enough?
its a bitter thing these limbo summers are.
Aug 20, 2017
Aug 20, 2017 at 2:36 AM UTC
Conservatives cannot admit
that the White Nationalists were wrong
"But what about Black Lives Matter.
But what about the Alt-Left.
But what about what Fox News said.
But what about what our ******* cartoon of a president said."
Think for yourself.
You are feeling bad for Neo-Nazis.
They killed people.
They have a history of killing people.
They would **** everyone that isn't white.
This country has become disgusting.
A large portion is defending the actions of terrorists.
White Nationalists, ISIS--
They are, literally, the same.
You cannot be peaceful
when it comes to Nazis.
By sympathizing with them,
you are condoning them and creating more.
The only good **** is a dead ****
Be a ******* person,
think for yourself,
recognize true evil
when you see it,
you brainwashed *****
Aug 17, 2017
Aug 17, 2017 at 12:50 PM UTC
i met my fate as the orange grass met the sky
while i stood coddled up in sunlight, studious to some remnant of hope, either frequent or terminal
i sat cradled in tears screaming, speak or swallow me up
but perhaps the words came in sleep, or the bottom of my coffee cup
dripping into my sleep and bursting from buds
music to my ears or the flowers growing in love
i met my fate at the edge of the suburbs, when i disappeared into my head, barefoot and hungry, dashing into forests, so numb, holding my weight in heavy rising lungs.
i was fading, perpetual, my own burning constant.
haunted and gaunt, and hardly ever conscious
i met fate on the edge of chance, of a good luck charm. of a missing someone.
i met fate in the words tangled in tongue
where all you sing is unsung
and if you can't walk, you'll run
Aug 12, 2017
Aug 12, 2017 at 9:41 PM UTC
The man who wears a leather belt and uses sensible words
loves her in cobalt violet, in the streaks of a hazy violent sky
after a storm has passed and she lets him
he claims that the egg people are coming, they’ll bring with
them handful of gifts of glory, of the things people hide
in the crevices of sidewalks, in the spaces where identity cards
are devoured by the teeth of the unknown
the television is always on and the static that surrounds them
is the serenading music she listens to before she falls asleep at night
she pretends that love is painting one’s nails while the other
loses their mind
as he laughs at the invisible neighbors outside the window
his bones can smell the coming of the apocalypse
and it’s not in the form of a swarm, or a flood
it comes in the bodies of girls with strawberry blonde
hair and that’s why he’s so drawn to her
and why his mother was swallowed by the earth
she learns that illness comes in permanent mauve
the walls of her room are covered in that hue
the boy she sneaks cigarettes from at the diner
in his car the color is almost a tangible personification
the smoke blows out into the crisp air like a bag of potato chips
the lungs constrict and expand
the thoughts hindered from years of yielding to the yellow sun
with the ****** robe
the child, the woman, the human lives in ****
but the thinker manages to escape years later
and live in the suburbs on an easy paycheck from
foolish strangers that believe that gasoline is a cheap party trick
and a fantastic high
she doesn’t recognize touch anymore besides
the harsh graze of asphalt hitting her knees
people seldom realize that freedom is not in
the way your toes curl but in the way they finally unfurl
how curious you can spot patterns where there are none
to be rescued does not always come in the way of clean arms
She loved him in transparent maroon
the grasp of warm sand kissing you gently
Jun 8, 2017
Jun 8, 2017 at 8:48 PM UTC
A sinister plot unfoils
As the masses cheer with glee
Alt-right legion growing , don't want us to be free
A revolution rumbling, justice for the spoils
A sickness is spreading, stomach toils
A warning of words, to open up eyes and see
As hatred feeds on silence, of people who let it be
A witness to the victims, the blood soaked soils
Nov 21, 2016
Nov 21, 2016 at 2:30 PM UTC