Listen...

at least...

at...

the end of the day...

I learnt this:


I'm the type of person who

can have everything he wants in the world,
everything (yes, you)

But will jump to give it all up
in one second,
one ****** second,

all for the sake of adventure.


Take that as you wish.

She kissed me and her lips tasted like my French grade:
somewhat romantic, but still mediocre.

when you catch yourself staring out the window

eyes tracking snowflakes. counting the seconds.

searching for meaning in seasonal change

looking for patterns spiraling in any direction but
                                                                ­                                down

seeing the sky’s just ******* hallmark card covers

when it’s half past one and you’re

wishing
wishing
wishing for

that snow

to bury

the campus. the people. the ******* assignments.

in something so cold it stings your fingers into feeling
enough to dig out of self-inflicted snow drifts

in something so bright and white that it
washes the grey stains from your eyes

when you let it go let it go let it go
and sit on the slushy side walk – only frozen
but without the ******* feel-good Disney songs
that happily work out ever after
in the happiest place on earth
when you don’t even care enough to finish the poem.

don’t.

I live inside myself
my own little world
I read my own books
and poetry
and listen to my own music
sure, I absorb others material
as much as I can
but I am only a lurker
looking over the Earth
silently
from my dark little island
gazing over seas
both digital and real
wondering how the others do it
Are they just good at pretending?
Are they really not as insincere
as they all appear?
These feelings, or lack thereof
are thrown up like smoke signals
from the fire inside me
hoping another
might see or hear
with eyes, ears, heart, soul and mind
that are almost mine
to rescue me
from this strange illusion
of my own creation