#callous
Take in one hand God’s promises
In the other,
The reality of this
stunningly beautiful but broken,
f'ed up world,
That cannot even keep
One simple promise…
And choose life; exquisite and precious.
May 27
May 27, 2026 at 3:16 AM UTC
i'm overreacting?
oh this time it's
that i'm to quick to act.
now i think little things
are bigger than they are?
i "care too much",
but you care too little.
i mean at least i have empathy?
or any emotion at all.
at least i'm not mindlessly
obsessed with myself, right?
at least i can chose not
to be selfish.
then, when the last straw had dropped ages ago,
i'm past 10,000 breaking points,
and i'm literally crying in frustration,
you're yelling.
wonderful.
"see you're so dramatic you're crying!"
and i can't even say anything back,
i mean i could,
but not if i'd sob it out.
i'm not one to give into
what's provoking.
so i stay quiet, for a while.
and yet,
you're still rambling on.
May 14
May 14, 2026 at 10:25 PM UTC
Monday, once,
Spring of 1970,
you were unborn, odds are…
but I was by then a veteran, alive,
and influenced by my trial experience,
with the animating influence that's justice.
She so poetically correct in balance, blind
for good reason… the heart of man, is wicked,
twisted into wicking threads through thorough
ghucking unneccessary roughness, as we untwist,
in the flame, at the tip of the wick, as we simmer
with an anticipatory experience that counts, for reals,
imagine dying, but dying for reals, experience matters,
as facts fail to express the odds in reality at all, as just us.
Imagine not dying, after that, it's easy, just live. Be kind,
nothing we die for cares if we don't. So live, its hard,
but worlds more interesting when we consider sides
- sidereal expanses past the Hubble deep hole -
so far beyond our conceptual capacity to hold true,
self-evidently forcing life to feel too heavy to hold wrong.
for very long, five minutes every other day, think all wrong,
then right, on sight, will make a body smile, and feel
a slight dopaminergic rush… and a long deep sigh.
Feb 16
Feb 16, 2026 at 10:56 PM UTC
Aww, your life isn't turning out like you want it to be so here you are showing up hoping you could come to me thinking that I could give you guidance or some sympathy even after the way you treated me so callously Tears in your eyes and your all apologies I can see the manipulation so clearly Funny, not too long ago this would have worked but now any love I ever felt for you has been purged The ***** on you, to think that I would believe in anything you think you're going to achieve I'm going to push you away because I need to be no longer there for you, but here for me
Jul 21, 2025
Jul 21, 2025 at 3:01 PM UTC
Her gaze got the best of me
Burning bright and mahogany
Conversation-soliloquy
I framed my fervor in filigree
hollow gestures, a pantomime
She just wanted to pass the time
Nearly twenty, too juvenile
To be anything more than tactile
A crowded room, a compact tableau
I still look for her where I go
A stubborn habit, it’s hard to quell
Maybe too callous, but I meant well
A little less than fortuitous
Resolution eluded us
Two strings, discordant synchronies
My pride, my wounded dignity
Sep 6, 2019
Sep 6, 2019 at 7:01 PM UTC
Cloaked wings fuel feeds
Tongue loaded flint locked bullets
Eve stuck to her leaf
Feb 13, 2019
Feb 13, 2019 at 3:27 PM UTC
I'm acquainted with your suffering.
She's a friend of mine too.
Always on the verge of paralyzing primal fear.
The fear of never truly being seen your entire life.
The pain of feeling safe
Allowing your soul to be naked
Only to be coldly rejected.
I sink.
It felt like being slowly sliced open
Neck to belly button
Split open
Wild animals digging through my insides
Rooting around for my sweet meats.
All while being observed by an unfeeling audience
He's curious but he would never save me.
He loves a good tragedy.
Nov 25, 2018
Nov 25, 2018 at 3:27 AM UTC
I can't make a tremendous poem
It's too hard to portray
and construct words become pretty nice
I'm quite callous
for you, I just want to say
that I extremely like you
May 30, 2017
May 30, 2017 at 1:51 PM UTC
Kind hands learn to be calloused hands
under the thumb of others,
and around the fingers
of heathens mistaken for lovers.
Apr 22, 2017
Apr 22, 2017 at 6:49 PM UTC
Of sleepless meadows,
and cold, seething blades,
the last rose blossoms,
in the desert's cruel shade.
Lachrymose falls
to shadow's black crimson,
while its thorns cry out,
"Why won't they listen?"
The rose screams and shouts,
crying sweetly for its heart,
but vines choke it gleefully,
dooming it from the start.
Gun barrels and swords,
with dirt spewing everywhere,
and sadistic corpses fall
without a single care.
The sounds of their loved ones
still beckon them home.
But that love means nothing,
when you know you'll die alone.
Aug 1, 2016
Aug 1, 2016 at 8:58 AM UTC
I've run my fingers over the faces
of many men
Touching, yes, but trying so hard to feel
With my own numb heart
It is calloused from use, yes,
but no less tender
So I reach out my hands
And run my fingers over countless faces
As I try to feel again
Aug 5, 2015
Aug 5, 2015 at 7:09 PM UTC
your naive youth could never
strategically bind with my
callous tendencies.
and that is the only resistance between us.
Jun 3, 2015
Jun 3, 2015 at 12:09 AM UTC
and that's when i realized,
you will not come home to me, you never could.
i am not soft or flexible, i am all sharp teeth and rough tongue.
i am more carnage than compassion.
my jaw clenches to show i could be nothing but cruel, never will be kind.
and who wants to call a wild beast theirs?
the fairytales never end that way.
May 27, 2015
May 27, 2015 at 12:16 AM UTC
Each night I ponder
on moonlit beams holding my hand
Each night I wonder
on sun rays dancing on dusty beams
And when
the wind shatters my porcelain lips, or
the stones callous my deviate feet
I feel comfort
I feel peace
Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 9:22 PM UTC
Callous hands grasp my heart
I am intertwined in your misery to love
The deep slumber from heaven calls you
But I don't want you to let go
Promise me you will remember me
When I am long under the soles of feet pressing the dirt unto my casket
And even when I'm gone you will hold my hand
Callous hands, now tinged with fear
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 10:55 AM UTC