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Tark Wain Jul 2014
It's crazy ya know
how everything I own
can just be wrapped up in boxes
trophies and awards
pictures and accomplishments
all tucked neatly away
my favorite pens and pencils
stuffed into burlap sacks

it's almost like it wasn't real
the first 18 years of my life
like it was all a game
that no matter what I did
I'd end up here
the only difference being
how many trophies
were neatly tucked away

like my whole life has been a checklist
like I was nothing extraordinary
there is nothing more dehumanizing
than being able to put everything you love in a box
it's just weird that it's over
it was always going to end
but I never thought it would be OVER
that's all
Tark Wain Jul 2014
bees can't fly
yet they still do
because they don't know
that they can't
of course this holds no relevance to me
I'm not a bee you see
i'm not saying humans can fly
i'm well aware we've tried
it just makes me wonder
about the things we never try
how the greatest musicians
turned into accountants
about what we do don't do
solely so we don't fail

if a bee were to understand
that he couldn't physically fly
he'd just buzz away
I want that
Tark Wain Jul 2014
A bandage can only do so much
it's the body that heals
don't cover up your problems
solve them
Tark Wain Jul 2014
Coffee stained sweaters
swollen bit lips
mistakes that stayed forever
wounds that never healed
apologies told
relationships mended
now that I have you
I'm reminded by how it ended

I search for tones in your speech
quivers in your voice
hints in your texts
movements in your body
I can't forget how we failed
how we might make it this time
and why either is
just as likely as the other

Do I love you?
Or am I just used to you?
Tark Wain Jul 2014
There once was a poet
who was very much alive
he'd write everyday
sometimes late into the night
his poetry was his craft
a never ending ascent into madness
a read of his work
was a trip into darkness

He was fascinated by death
by how simple it was
he imagined the light being as bright
as the white of a dove
he loved rhyming tricks
how they'd guide a reader
along a waterfall of words
the more the steeper

but he wasn't famous
he wasn't beloved
this tore him apart
and led him to what?
no i didn't hear that
a modern day Van Gogh
only 25
too young for him to go
Tark Wain Jul 2014
And if a picture was worth
a thousand words
then my actions
should speak a thousand verbs

And if actions speak
louder than words
then let my speech
rise loud like a thousand birds

And if birds prove
it's possible to fly
then I can tell you
how I love you and why

And if a broken clock
is right twice a day
then maybe there's a chance
I can find the words to make you stay
Tark Wain Jul 2014
There were ten boys in a room
numbered one through ten
they all lived peacefully
until the moment when
number ten took a liking to
number seven's suede shoes
three defended ten while
six and seven made a truce

ten shot a rocket
with questionable aim
after which we find
number two had been slain
eight and nine shot back
with a sling shot blast
while ten used four
to cover his ***

four perished, as one
came to his aid
spraying blindly
over where four laid
when it was over
only seven and ten remained
while one fell over exhausted
his resources drained

seven looked down at his shoes
which after the fighting were no longer new
he took them off one by one
and handed them to ten
deciding the war was no longer needed
ten thanked seven and walked away
to the corner and turned around
he'd fight again another day
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