#isuck
Sometimes I feel like the greatest, but most of the time I feel like the worst, the worst poet of all the living poets.
Aug 25, 2015
Aug 25, 2015 at 9:49 PM UTC
Blank pages haunt me so.
I want nothing more than
my words to flow
freely from my fingertips.
I crave expression worthy
of her attentiveness.
I want to grant her a repose
from the mediocrity of my
anemically feeble prose.
But my words no longer
shock and stop her heart,
her knees are stronger
and harder to make weak.
And I know my words no
longer impress her because
they no longer impress me.
Apr 12, 2015
Apr 12, 2015 at 6:21 PM UTC
I'm so tired of the judgment
Of the constant expectations
Of the people that claim to love me
So much treating me like I am
Nothing.
Like I'm a dark hole with a short lasting existence.
Well if I am a dark hole,I last forever and
There's no changing me.
Stop trying because I can be the rarest
Form of black hole.
I can destroy everything in my wake
And feel no remorse.
Feb 8, 2015
Feb 8, 2015 at 12:55 PM UTC
//so brace yourself, you know, you know//
I’m never gonna live you down
you’ve uprooted me //so look at me// you’re just as bad as I am
you’re the richter kid, you are, you are
you’re the sinking in my gut. I’ll pick your claws out of my skin if you
pick me up off the floor
**//do you think you sunk your teeth in me?
do you think I’ll stick around?//**
dear god I’ll scrub this thin skin off my face just to be rid of you
I swear
you’re the raptor boy, you are, you are
//did you leave your hands with me?//
are you just that hit and run boy now? just that kind of crude?
rip me up you know. I’ll fall to pieces. when I hit the floor
don’t run. don’t speak. put your hand on my waist
//I hate you//
am I too sick for you sweetheart? is my body all I’ll lose?
if you don’t care then I don’t either. I’m just as bad as you are
one hit k-o, you know, you know
it’s a ******* shame //take courage//
my guts are spilled on this tile floor but I’m still standing
//still don’t love you//
don’t look back, you know, you know. there’s nothing left of me
**//are we all this ******* tortured?
are you ripped apart like me?//**
you’re the golden boy, you are, you are
you’re just as bad as I am
Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 10:16 PM UTC
I don't know what i'm doing anymore.
The pen sits in my hand .
The paper on my desk.
but the words come all jumbled up
tangled together
in anger and frustration.
This used to be so easy as a child.
I could throw a stone.
and strike a muse.
but now the stones are boulders
and the muse is a pay stub.
Has life really won me over?
am I really all used up
My mind dry
parched from the absents of words.
Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 11:47 PM UTC