#altpoetry
Not every first appearance impresses—
like walking into a church where nobody smiles;
:everyone working on themselves, but no real
service with a smile. And I know my first appearance
didn’t give you one, yet you stayed; more than a
visitor, while I remained a bench warmer in your life.
Doing the disservice of trying to ruin you—
when I should’ve rune’d you... once an innocent
wreck, crashing into guilty pleasures; my guilty
conscience…for not spending enough time with
you— not enough of me in your all.
Our final moment could be the start of it all—
and maybe I want to see you all, before we
lose it all. Fall into my trust— lose your all in
a trust fall; let your body confess what it’s been
holding, let me hear every unspoken call.
Where leaves meet their fall, they don’t
question the letting— and winter’s fall is only
a season… so stay a little longer—give it
your all; maybe, just maybe… something in us
still grows through it all—
—or we become the “almost” that had it all.
…and just like that—this is the end of service.
Apr 4
Apr 4, 2026 at 11:59 AM UTC
tired of the
same old ways,
i try to
kick it back—
explain:
sometimes the
world is cold.
you didn’t ask
for this,
but it’s
always been
this way.
you had everything—
then lost it
the next day.
you take a step
back,
look up
to the sky,
watching blue
turn gray
without a reason why.
melancholy sunshine,
rays of light
fading away,
like the soft
hues
of yesterday.
you hate this—
and yeah,
i know
it’s cruel.
but stick around
for a few,
it gets better—
and it’s okay
if it’s not
your day.
for all that
it's worth:
i love you,
anyway.
Jun 11, 2025
Jun 11, 2025 at 6:16 AM UTC
Selling mind and flesh; sold too much time…
now I’m a wreck; a crash-out on your shore—
:so be sure to love me; I arrive in waves
Love me like a rocking boat, paddling alongside
a magnetic wave— your smile pulling me in,
reeling me from a once serious face.
Facing your fears to be near your feels—
feels like cold feet finding courage; still…
:leaping from earth, jumping off the
porch, in training to fall— repeat.
How I need a coach, riding coach to confess
these emotions; or riding coasts in bottled
emotions— timed, primed… all just
waiting for the right place to burst.
Tell me, would you love to fall in love first?
Apr 5
Apr 5, 2026 at 12:28 AM UTC