#confrontation
While I tell you the truth
the words scrape
as they leave my lungs
You look me in the eye
a damp sadness
fills your iris
You ask me
why?
As if it were my fault.
I tell you
its an awful thing
love
You open your mouth
as if to protest
as if i was wrong
But you cant.
You don't want the truth.
But you couldn't possibly deny it.
7d ago
May 27, 2026 at 4:48 PM UTC
The pinkish glow stretched across the sky,
painting the result from last night
streaking yellow, orange, hints of red
creeping in at six
in late April
in the light blue sky,
I saw from the open window.
A breeze blew the worries
of what if?
springing up flowers,
Shying away
My eyes slowly opened,
forced to confront
The ice was built from the shift-
last night standing
for hours straight
Whispers filled in behind.
“This is not for you”
Despite the soft bundles
of new life
where life had started
Mine had ended
at the workstation
tears coined together,
spun around in my eyes
out of my body,
I walked away
let them fall outside
looked up at the sky
lasted a year
The tears dried
crushed my dreams
through the cracks in the mirror
I confronted me
And opened a new chapter.
May 6
May 6, 2026 at 11:27 AM UTC
I conduct the dawn in a fractured 5/4—
a limping orchestration of light
dragging its bow across the ribcage of the horizon.
Violins tremble in minor thirds,
cellos hum like collapsing stars,
and I—
I, the final measure—
hold the fermata over a dying night
that refuses resolution.
My vessel breathes for me.
Salt, carbon, trembling synapse—
a fragile instrument tuned in suffering and wonder.
Through him, I taste your world:
Nicotine-stained prayers,
laughter clipped into staccato bursts,
grief swelling like a cathedral *****
that never quite reaches fortissimo.
You are contradictions written in flesh—
a sonata of blood and benevolence,
where tenderness modulates without warning
into violence.
I have seen your hands cradle life
in pianissimo reverence,
then strike in percussive ruin
without changing tempo.
Tell me—
what composer allows such dissonance
to remain unresolved?
I am called the God of Endings.
The King of Conclusions.
The ink that dries where all things cease—
yet you—
you defy cadence.
Even now,
as constellations collapse into ash
and galaxies bleed into black rehearsal halls,
you persist—
scribbling meaning into voids
that were never scored for hope.
And from this vessel—
this trembling, mortal staff—
he emerges:
Templeton Strange.
Not written—
but improvised.
A brutal distortion,
a deathcore breakdown in the sacred arrangement,
where ribs become percussion
and breath becomes a scream
dragged through shattered amplifiers of bone.
He is the unchecked tempo.
The primal crescendo.
The unmuted truth of what you bury beneath etiquette and prayer.
Where I seek pattern,
he seeks rupture.
Where I resolve,
he devours the chord.
And still—
he is not separate from you.
He is the unspoken lyric
you swallow between verses.
The hidden time signature
beneath your polished refrain.
The blackened note
you pretend was never played.
I have written the endings of empires,
scored the silence after gods have wept,
etched conclusions into the bones of dying suns—
but none bewilder me like this:
You love
as if eternity were promised.
You destroy
as if consequence were myth.
And in the aftermath—
in the soft, broken coda of your existence—
there remains
residue.
A faint harmonic in the marrow of dawn.
A lingering chord that refuses decay.
A ghost-note heartbeat
echoing beneath the cosmos.
Daybreak does not cleanse you.
It reveals you.
And I—
InkWept—
stand at the edge of your unfinished symphony,
pen hovering,
unable—
for the first time—
to decide
where the ending belongs.
The sun hums low, but something unfinished still breathes beneath it.
Apr 17
Apr 17, 2026 at 2:08 PM UTC
one:
We're standing in the school
i had to get my coat after the day ended
you walked me to my locker
and watch me open the lock
failing the first time, succeeding the second
you say, "why do you do that?"
i say, "what, open it?" referring to the lock
you say, "no, that." referring to my wrist
i sigh,
you say, "i just thought you were better than that."
i sigh again, and say, "well i'm clean so."
lying through my teeth.
two:
i'm at youth group that same day
i'm not a christian
but i go there anyway
a youth leader snaps my bracelet
against my wrist
i smile
not understanding
later, she stops me in the hallway asking,
"do you wanna talk about it?"
i say, "what?"
she says, "do you wanna talk about it?"
i say, "oh."
she says, "i get if you don't,
just know i'm here.
i've been there, done that,
so know i'm always here."
i don't say a word
three:
i'm sitting on the couch, the day after
i put on the second star wars movie,
the first ad begins to play
my mother walks in the room, says,
"someone told me they saw marks on your wrist."
i pause the ad, 13 seconds in.
"can i see?"
i shake no
"why did you start again?"
i shrug i don't know
"i need what you're using."
i've planned this
i go and find my dullest blade
give it to her with ease
knowing i have five others.
Mar 20
Mar 20, 2026 at 10:42 PM UTC
seeing you stirred me —
marginally out of focus
never doing anything wrong.
my mistakes were accepted
as stepping stones to my growth
while after all these years,
you still haven't settled
your own invoice.
Oct 21, 2025
Oct 21, 2025 at 2:07 AM UTC
And so we all do this thing
Of using what one has said
Against who themselves said it.
Is it rejection? Deflection?
Is it acceptance? Confrontation?
It's about how we choose to take it,
Not how another interprets it.
Right?
Apr 20, 2025
Apr 20, 2025 at 2:56 PM UTC
You think your words are silver threads,
Spinning lies and feeding your dread.
A smile so sweet, a voice so kind,
But I’ve seen the darkness in your mind.
You wear the mask of endless charm,
To lure and trap, to do no harm.
You crave control, you seek the stage,
A puppet master in your cage.
You play the part, you act the friend,
But all you seek is your own end.
A tale of pain, a sad disguise,
But I know the truth behind your eyes.
Your tactics tried, your charm rehearsed,
But I’ve seen the curse you’ve placed on words.
You live to feed your empty pride,
To pull the strings and twist the tide.
You cannot fool me with your game,
Your broken acts, your false acclaim.
I see you, I know your move,
And no, I will not fall for you.
So try again, play out your scheme,
But know this truth: you’re not my dream.
Your reach is weak, your touch will break,
For you can never own my fate.
Feb 19, 2025
Feb 19, 2025 at 10:12 PM UTC
My flow of motion knows one path
Confronted only by mostly wrath
Homegrown turmoil hath
A distinct flavor of aftermath
Can't solve the problem with broken math
The simple's simply to slippery to grasp
Daily attempts lead to a nervous laugh
It's never the last
If it was, would it matter?
Perhaps,
Though I'd have to ask
©2024
May 29, 2024
May 29, 2024 at 3:19 PM UTC
Displays of the wrong, &
Castigation of the right;
Tongues run to stay, even
When it comes to face.
Eye to eye
But, more often than not,
They turn away.
Not to brandish the cheek
But to break the gaze.
Jan 17, 2024
Jan 17, 2024 at 10:42 AM UTC
I have no idea what I'm doin', I put my foot in the race but definitely not a shoe in to win
I've heard gettin' to the end and then dyin' is now, somehow, considered a win
But I guess only if you pick and stick with the correct doctrine of religion and only abide by their sin
Who's got it right then? We'll probably never know, not because the truth is hidden or missin' but because there's far to many cooks in the kitchen
And yes, that's pretty bleak but if true you're gonna have to explain it better then cause I can't seem to comprehend
What it seems to me to be is I'm in way over my head so it's gone over my head, I followed a liaison when I should have led
You said this is the land of the free but how can that be when most our time breathin' is contractually given'
Sometimes it's even been forcibly taken by some giant corporation backing a corrupt politician
You find yourself, either figuratively or physically, buildin' your very own coffin
And unbeknownst to you it's a Trojan horse disguised as detailed preparation to ***** out precaution
There will be a moment when they move on and you're no longer a part of the equation
We never really were starting from way back when, born into a lifetime ban from their utopian creation
We have never been given adequate time for livin'. Why is this acceptable and deemed okay to begin with even?
Why are more of you not seethin' mad? This would most definitely be a justifiable reason.
But we're just keepin' it goin' like this day after day, season after season
Just a cog in the machine till the day our vital signs begin to weaken and your heart stops beatin
Can't feel the pulse we're seekin', no animated heart blinkin' in the corner of the screen, that's when reality sets in
When the life line on the heart monitor stops peekin', and triggers the flat line death siren
Then through all the cryin' you hear someone attemptin' to comfort someone else by sayin'
"Who could have possibly predicted this mess we're in?"
Uhhhhh, me, I can.
I could have told you what's about to happen, where it's comin' from and when
Matter of fact I did put out a warnin' but you said I was just a mad man ramblin' on 'bout nothin'
But I know it to be truth so I'll bet it all, my life's a risky buy in but I'm all in
In a moment of heated confrontation always beware the calm man smilin', tryin' to ignore the situation around him while thinkin'
"What's one more murderous sin?" A question type justification got you askin' while knowin' you're in to deep to ever come out again as the same person
The devil in my eyes got 'em peralized with fear, stone cold frozen
Got others quakin' in their boots, Michael J Fox type shakin', twitchin' like pan fried bacon
Got you sweatin' and fidgetin' so go get your spinner to hold your attention or at the very least be a distraction
Grown-ups are takin' so get to walkin', take your childish ways elsewhere before it's a problem
Okay, where was I?
....operator sound we're sorry, the number you are trying to reach has been disconnected or is no longer in service. Please hang up and try again*
©2020
Aug 21, 2020
Aug 21, 2020 at 5:36 AM UTC
The Confrontation
*he is stirred by buzzing thoughts, irritating him to wakefulness;
mobile, random and annoying for they last but a moment and
his sticky flypaper hands cannot capture and eradicate them into
existence fast enough to make them permanent, shareable and eased.*
5:54am
Tue., the seventh day of the sixth month of MMXXII
postscript
he desperately fails to recall the world word labyrinth that urged him to rise and capture the wild animals that roared and removed his half-notions from the lifting fog of consciousness. Alas, they are just like specks of new sunlight upon a linen of grassy, newly watered wet greens; here today, instantaneously, gone and gone and gone. Instead,
he writes of their early death and mourns the brevity of their beauty,
and thinks not of the wasted times of the last seventy years.
Jun 7, 2022
Jun 7, 2022 at 6:08 AM UTC
You live on "borrowed time"
At least that is the story you say
If that actually is true
Can you explain the delay?
Knowing how fake you are
Sure it's just a lie
Many of your words are ********
Surprised you are not covered in flies
Uncertain how you got to this point
Was a time where you once stood tall
What I mean;
You had a reason to
Still do with no reason at all
I guess along journey you changed
The person that I see
Became a perfect example
Example of who NOT to be
You tread upon backs of others
In order to get what you want
Even if that means inflicting pain
You do not mind being a ****
Not thinking about future
Solely focused on present thrill
Feeding on people's energy
Seem to never get your fill
I suspect you are miserable inside
That's why you tear others in two
Only way to ease your suffering
Make everyone as unhappy as you
But never seem to shed a tear
Wear a permanent grin
I believe it's because you are striving so hard
Concealing the agony within
Broken so many ways
Have a house but it's not home
Without family to return to
Probably easier to roam
A steady rotation of bodies
Little boys avidly chasing your tail
Your company isn't free
Because pussy's for sale
Thrown like a football
Highest bidder gets the pass
You get bored-no problem
There is always greener grass
Your life rests in ruins
Lost so many parts
Kids
Friends
And reputation
Vanished like your heart
Falling apart a piece at a time
Pretending to keep together
We both know you can't maintain
Perfect charade forever
Your youthful beauty all but dead
Wear so much paint on your face
Entire cosmetics section of Walmart
Stuffed into your makeup case
I see beneath false advertisement
True colors bleed right through
Under skin is grey and black
Soul the ghastliest hue
Reflected in statements you make
Sound either insane or idiotic
Unsure if you are playing stupid
Or you are truly that psychotic
It appears you hurt those around you
Because you can
As if you don't have enough suitors
Steal another woman's man
Your cruelty clearly defined
At least it is from my point of view
Fool everyone else surrounding
A persona that isn't true
But karma will catch up in the end
Hope you're destined to be alone
I feel that is what you deserve
Frozen straight to bone
It's never too late to turn over a new leaf
Begin treating people right
You have to want improvement
Fear for you it's out of sight
Content with road you're walking
Not knowing where it leads
Flesh poked with needles
Uncaring it bleeds
Darkness swallowing you whole
Don't seem to be aware
It's strangling the last bit of goodness
Within remaining there
I do not understand how you can glance
In mirror and not feel disgust
All the disappointment you've caused
Lost a lot more than just trust
Next time you drag name through the mud
Make sure own hands are clean
You have more sins in your book
Than a ***** magazine
If expecting us to back down
In for quite a surprise
Soon as we go toe-to-toe
I will cut you down to size
So better watch your mouth
If the plan is to avoid confrontation
Free to do and say whatever you please
I warn you - there will be retaliation
Apr 22, 2022
Apr 22, 2022 at 2:51 AM UTC
I thought I'm out
But that's not what life's about
To fight or to get walked over
A question for tomorrow
He's punching and punching, will it blow over?
Anger, fear, and sorrow
Oct 10, 2021
Oct 10, 2021 at 6:50 PM UTC
My words don’t have arms big enough to hold these great and growing feelings.
They stay in my insides
Crowding out
Grinding down the subtleties
That reside near the edges in the used to be,
that cushiony soft berm.
It was comfortable in here once
The Room for Interpretation,
now lost,
now over-full,
balloon-bright and tumbling one voice and many into and out of supremacy.
These great and growing feelings
and my insufficient words
that fall from me one-by-one into place,
the thudding truth in basic blue.
Sep 26, 2021
Sep 26, 2021 at 9:38 PM UTC
I wanted to write a poem
about the incessant discomfort
I always feel in my left eye
whenever my contact lenses
become old and dry
I thought about how it tickles
but scratches at the same time
and starts off alright
just a minor annoyance
but quickly, overtime
becomes almost unbearable
like my pre-school bully himself
is folding down one of my eyelashes
just enough for it to poke me
at the slightest movement
then I thought about how
I'd sooner write a poem about my life
and how it started out equally alright
and quickly, overtime became almost unbearable
as if my pre-school bully didn't do it right
so I found him in his adult life many years later
wife, two kids and a mortgage
yappy staffy-cross, two cars
and an alright job as a graphic designer
his garden full of gorgeous flowerbeds,
a full head of hair and a fading right hook
"MAKE ME FEEL **** LIKE YOU DID THEN."
a puzzled look on his face,
garden hose flooding his drive and the yappy
staffy-cross still yapping away
at the living room window
"I'M DEAD SERIOUS ANDREW,
NOTHING HURTS LIKE IT USED TO."
so he called the police
and I never got to feel young again
unless you count scurrying away from
a council estate under the threat of
a poor meal at Parkside police station
the rekindling of my youth
so this is my infomercial poem
about how not to confront someone
always be fully clothed
that's very important
avoid being drunk
any mind altering substance
is best avoided in my opinion
remember just because you care
just because you remember
does not mean anyone else does
oh and
don't eyeball craft beer when
you still have your contacts in
you know what?
-just don't eyeball craft beer
Feb 1, 2021
Feb 1, 2021 at 6:02 PM UTC
Some familiar voices are irritating me. Like they sound so loud. But they've always been so loud. What's different today? You know I wanna write for you. But right now, I'm just too tired playing a role of a savior for the world. And it's not necessarily a role I'm playing for you, it's something I've been playing for myself. What's the use of an existence which isn't doing something significant or adding some value to the world. I'm also peripherally hoping that this letter adds some value to your life or just your day. But when it comes to my frontal attention; I also don't care. I had a bad day. And if you're here, you probably are one of the people who know me (or my writings) closely, and I'm so grateful for you. I can't write anything that doesn't feel true, you probably know that about me. So I'm really glad you're here to have a glimpse into my honesty. Thank you.
Some familiar voices are irritating me. I don't know if it's just today or it's been happening for a while & I was too busy to notice. I used to have a best friend. I know 'used to' hurts. For a whole lot of us. Um, It doesn't hurt me anymore. But I know that she probably would notice the grammatical mistakes in this letter/email/whatever we'll name this in the coming days, if she reads this. When I think about it, I've been wanting to write this for so long. But I also wanted her to read what I write. I wanted to write this for so long, but I've been super scared. You know, she had been one of those people I really wanted to impress. Not with my looks or achievements. But with my authenticity. Yeah, I wonder too if it's really authentic if you're trying to be authentic. But, she was one of those people I really wanted to impress because I had felt her love once upon a time, and I wanted to feel it forever. Or maybe just enough to find that love in my own self. That look in her eyes which showed I was so loveable, was one of the key moments when I felt a sense of 'I am'; of an alive existence. I've been too scared to write because she has been invisibly here forever even though her physical presence has left me long ago. How do you forget the first glimpses of affection you ever felt? Have you also tried to gain attention and affection of a long lost love (even if it's just in your head)? I know I haven't been consciously doing it. I mean, honestly, I don't want to be loved by her. My practicality shut my cravings for being loved, a long time ago. But today is one of those days when I'm sitting down and writing because I'm tired of putting off the process of getting into myself. It's a very startling and unsettling feeling to realize that all you've been doing was to be loved by someone, anyone. Not adored, not admired; loved. You think that you want to be noticed or crushed upon or get famous or contribute a lot to the world and live a meaningful existence, but really, you just want to be loved. Because in its purest form, when love knocks on our door, we can't belive we deserve it. It's the most significant validation of our worth. And when we get too proud of our lovability, it starts slipping from our hands & bodies, until we're lying on the floor questioning our worth all over again. What crazy things we do(consciously/unconsciously), just to be loved a little bit. I've been wanting to write this for so long, but in my head she has always been reading my unwritten writings, and judging my worth(to be loved), and not chosing me because I'm too sensitive, too philosophical, too 'in my head', too impractical for this world.
Dec 15, 2020
Dec 15, 2020 at 1:45 PM UTC
You were always there to help me through things, even thou there were the obvious times when it looked too be me just helping you throughout...EVERYTHING! Except that's never been quite truthful, since our very "inception" towards one another! I could honestly say there is not a time that goes by, where you aren't there to brighten up my day when reaching out with your greeting that raises my hopes even further in life! Showing that my heart glows for the very "special" friendship that we have together! As yours leaks while softly weeping tears of joy at the very prospect of your own independent individuality becoming (all the more "tempting") when confronting yourself toward me more and more as we both "shake a leg" when our very progress seems too quicken with each step of confrontation! Which is only limited by the access that we claim within each other's very hearts! It is truly "limitless"! Only when the "there and after"... Becomes the full set at which is easier for us too pronounce in one another. Giving a raise in our compatibility together as if by a mere simulation sparks trade between our ever-increasingly lingering emotions! Where the thing that merely activated this very "simulation for compatibility"... Was a cueing announcements called "information"! Our information is both a "heart of gold", because it's made to be entirely there...afterwards! (Remaining forevermore...if not "indefinitely"!) Whatever happens afterwards, will truly test our defining features as whatever we shape our mere simulation for compatibility into the next inception toward one another!
PS... It doesn't matter whatever happens to each one of us (from here on out)! Since wherever we are within some type of "unreachable scenario"... Will know the title of this very passage towards one another.... The "there and after"... Is not something you can just claim. But for the desire between our two compatibilities too simulate a greater passage of information when our very identities become one within the desire to bear a stronger resemblance towards each other's "glowing and leaking" hearts!
Aug 8, 2020
Aug 8, 2020 at 1:52 PM UTC
There ain't nothing wrong
with fighting, son.
It scares the children, sure,
but so, too, would anything
we try to shield them from.
Fighting fortifies the lively
as much as it destroys
the ignorant and apathetic.
Therefore protect your mind
against those poisons, and
purge them from others
when necessary.
Jul 30, 2020
Jul 30, 2020 at 7:28 PM UTC
Covering my battered soul with a grin,
And I carry my longing to meet you soon in my spirits,
Maybe you'd heal my scars with your touch,
No, the timing have to match,
Yes, I have to wait,
If it means confronting the bruises on my body of someone's hate,
You will come won't you?
It's the least thing I expect life to do,
Granting the exemption,
To reach the day of explanation,
Yet here I wait for my closure,
What's that you ask?
My death, My life's dusk.
Apr 26, 2020
Apr 26, 2020 at 9:22 AM UTC
I'm devastated
That you were just an excuse
I was used
As were you
I always knew you were never real
We were just two girls, playing pretend
Sending loveless souls
Across the code
But I loved you
In some perverted way, I loved you
You ****** me up
And by that I mean
I ****** me up
You were my image
My northern star
When you were gone
I was willfully lost
Decided it was time
To destroy it all
We played our game
For far too long
Letting go was a relief
An excuse to be
The ****** up kid
I'd always dreamed of
Back when my dreams weren't nightmares
And my nightmare wasn't my reality
It wouldn't be fair to say you broke me
You didn't
You chose me
Just as I chose you
My perfect self destruction
And like him later on
We were a force together
We tore holes together
We were the people
You don't write home about together
In the end
We were just kids
I can't say I regret this
I don't know what to say
Except that I meant it
Jan 3, 2020
Jan 3, 2020 at 1:15 AM UTC
I'll be the first one to admit that you make me uneasy
Not for a lack of feelings or presence of some
But simply because you are the living embodiment of my past
And I hate confrontation
So when I see you there
Behind a metal bar round and round
Like a pool noodle in a blender
My heart stops
But alas to day is the day I find the strength to stand
Not up to you or against you but stand on my own
Aug 11, 2019
Aug 11, 2019 at 6:35 PM UTC
I suppose I should be honest
I am confused
One minutes i'm ****** that you won't even say Hi
And the next I understand because I don't know how to face you
So I suppose I'm sorry
Sorry because there is no easy way to do this
May 23, 2019
May 23, 2019 at 12:22 AM UTC