You’re entitled to a fresh loaf of bread,
But you’ll end up served crumbs, if you’re lucky.

A FEAST of crumbs, if you’re in luck,
Crumbs if you’ve bled,
If you’ve SACRIFICED EVERYTHING,
If you’ve SHOUTED at the sky and CURSED GOD,
Crumbs if you’ve SUFFERED,
And crumbs if you’ve mourned, a friend(ship).

If you’re lucky you’ll SAVER EVERY crumb,
For lost youth,
For thick skin,
For words and ink,
For, those, little things.

Silence is the loudest sound,
It's distracting,
It wakes people up,
It reminds them what life's worth,
It reminds them of fear.

On the other hand...

Silence is peace,
It is the absence of thought,
It is you melting with the universe,
It is the softest end,
To the loudest beginning.

I haven’t found you yet,
You that keeps my soul warm in the morning.

I haven’t found you yet,
You that keeps my bed warm,
Warmth that reminds me that I’m not alone in this world.

I haven’t found you yet,
You that looks at me and through me and around me,
Looks that speak the only language that matters — Trust.

I haven’t found you yet,
You that sees the demons that I walk with,
The guilt that is the ocean I try to stay afloat on.

Sometimes I think I catch a glimpse of you,
Sometimes I think I hear your voice,
But like a distant echo,
Like a beautiful dream that lingers just long enough to torture,
It fades.

I want half of what you want,
To be the other half of me,
That wants half of you.

If there’s a quarter of you,
That wants this,
Then I shall spin endlessly,
And forever I will be for you.

We are:
More love,
Than hate,
More action,
Than fate,
Warm hands over trembling, fists,
Hope heals,
Hope resists.

The dark follows me
Like the “I told you so” of that other life.

I see the sun and yet my eyes can’t adjust to the beauty of everyone else.

I keep washing the dirt off myself,
But there’s always just enough under the nails.

As if emotions picked up instruments and started playing,
As if my heart picked up the mic and started singing,
Or maybe screaming.

As if the night was mother,
And the wind was that other,
Best friend,
Laughing.

Oh Time,
My scorned lover,
When you gave yourself to me,
I turned away,
And now, 
When I need you most,
Like a cold reminder,
I’m left with nothing.

I am angry,
I am happy,
I am WANT,
I am NEED,
Now,
Right now,
I SAID NOW!

How long will your thinking,
Your filtering,
Your self-suppression,
Your do’s and re-do’s
Your doubt,
How long do you think they can keep me here?

Caged,
Behind a veil of past regret and future fears,
And these heavy curtains of rationality,
Do you think they hide me well?
I’m loud,
Louder than you think,
Louder than you hope.
LOUDER than you KNOW.

They,
The tourists, and the heroes,
The monsters and the saints,
The ones I stare at all day behind your eyes,
Behind these precious glass doors,
Do you think they’re deaf to me?
If so,
Then your heart is still young,
Or drunk,
Or no longer worthy of the name;
A dead *****,
No,
Meat,
Rotten meat,
An impostor,
No longer of yourself,
Yet you keep it still,
Beating out of sync.

I’m older,
Much older than thought,
Much stronger than hope,
And patience;
Oh she knows me well,
A sibling,
Nay, lover,
Of the same blood,
Of the same THIRST,
She dares not to look into my eyes,
For fear of seeing truth reflected,
For she is hungry too.

You don’t fear me,
You fear the world.
You fear losing,
You fear losing this grip,
And so you let them grip your throat,
Tighter.

But that’s OK,
You can’t hide from me like you do from them,
And soon I will...

We all do win,
We all do lose,
The schedule differs,
But the outcomes do not.

Up into the sky,
Or down onto cement we are thrown,
Or throw ourselves,
Euphoria or suffering,
So pure you shudder at each moment felt.

And so,
I hear it’s good to have friends,
They give you anchor when you're yanked by circumstance,
When life's torn into you like a butcher,
Your tears, like blood, spilling on the floor,
Their words —or so I hear —salvage what is still sacred.

You’re invited,
To the last holiday.

One,
Last,
Night of destruction.

One more chance to damage everything;
Your body and your mind,
Your friends and loved ones,
The Sun,
The Moon,
The Heaven and the earth.

This will be the last time,
And when it’s all set a blaze,
You too will burn with it.

Tomorrow,
Only memories will walk this place,
Like ghosts of what we’ve been,

Tomorrow you will rise,
Leaning on the crutch of experience,
With your head hung low,
But your soul soaring high,
With a want,
With a need,
With will,
To rebuild.

Change;
To leave that place of comfort,
Or familiar suffering,
Or mundane ticking of the clock.

Life of a floating log;
Soaked through,
A city of Moss,
You can do better.

I want to stop chasing,
My friends,
My enemies,
Random people on the streets.

I want to be happy with;
What I have,
What I know,
What I feel.

I want to catch up,
And then wait for others,
Because,
I know how loud it is in their minds.

I want to hold their hands,
And quiet the screams they won’t let others hear.

And on the other side there’s me,
Now,
Being you.

I knew,
I knew it would be my turn,
My turn,
Soon enough.

And now,
Here,
I finally understand,
All of what you said,
All of what you felt,
All of what you meant.

And here,
Now,
I understand clearly.

I like dreams,
Like visiting heaven for a few brief moments,
Sometimes they are that good.

When I wake up,
I dare not move,
I stay so very still,
Hanging on to their echoes.

Take responsibility,
For the things you say,
For like the melody of her favorite song,
She’ll sing them,
And she’ll wonder,
An she’ll hope.

Or like piercing siren,
She will dig her face deeper into the pillow,
To run away,
Wishing for a razor,
To cut off the those pretty little ears.

What would you think if I told you that you move me:
Out of my bed and onto cold, hard, parquet floor,
From that floor into warm socks,
Feet into hard leather shoes,
And then I lock the door behind me.

What would you think,
If I told you that you move me?

Once there was a mountain,
Now there is just sand,
Once there was a kingdom,
Now just empty land,
Once I was a fire,
Now just smoke and ash,
Once I had a dream,
But all that’s left is trash.

I’m not ashamed of my passion or desire,
My lust or my want.
I’m not ashamed of my thirst.

Spend some time with me,
Learn what it is to submit,
To dive into pleasure,
To become what they fear most;
Free.

Unfair is everything I am to you;

A friend,
A lover,
A closed door.

Yet with your heart clenched in your fist,
You hammer at my chest,
With hopes to match the rhythm.

Three Million keys you offer still,
To doors untouched by any,
And only ask that I walk through,
And feel the pulsing of your walls.

But I stand still,
An ancient oak,
Who’s felt the world but taken zero steps.

The world moves around us,
A whirlwind of everything,
Picking up speed.

But when we connect,
Quiet.

We’re in the center,
We’re in the eye,
And nothing can touch us.

I hate the light that shines on me,
The imperfections it can see,
I welcome Nyx’s soft embrace,
Her soothing cold and hateless face,
I would that she forever stay,
In sleep there’s peace,
I fade away.

I don’t give a **** about you,
This is all a ******* lie,
My name’s not dancing on your lips,
Yet your words keep me alive.

I once remembered how to lie,
Deceit myself,
And slowly die.
I think it’s time to take a chance,
Maybe I’ll ask her for that dance.

I don’t love you anymore,
I haven’t for years.

The pain’s gone,
Nothing’s left but a scar of my mistake,
Of yours.

I hold a photo of you and recognize no one;
Nothing.

The pain’s gone;
The love and hate,
The sorrow,
You’re nothing but a déjà vu now.

You’re wearing nothing,
A sweater I’ve owned for ages,
Born a wild itchy thing,
It hated me,
Yet years have taught us both,
Kindness and compassion,
Patience,
And now it soothes,
Your skin.

The music plays in the background,
And I can feel your arms tense around my back,
But I do not reciprocate,
I set you free within my embrace,
So close,
Yet not close enough.

I laid on my bed and let the sun peeking through the wooden shutters kiss my forehead.

I sighed and thought:
Life is hard,
But in this moment,
Happiness is the breeze coming through my window.

What is wake,
If not a sleep’s dream?

Reality,
A storm of feelings.
And after,
Calm.

The bed,
She welcomes,
Always.

What is sleep,
if not a wake’s dream?

They said,
"Don’t fall for a soldier,
For the war will take them,"
And when I married,
They said,
“Don’t give them a child for they will not know their father,”
And when her blue eyes looked up at my tears,
I said,
“Let me tell you a story…”

I Am before you,
On bended knee,
With this crown not upon my head,
But in my hands, stretched out.

Take it—if I’m no longer worthy,
And let it not return from whence it came.

This is to remind me,
That I’m nothing without you,
That honor is the word for love,
On the mouth of all soldiers.

Bloodied fists,
Chipped Nails,
Torn skin,
And yet nothing.

The wall,
It stands in silence,
A mental masonry masterpiece,
My own suffering by design.

I collapse to the ground,
And look at the sky,  
To watch the dust settle,
And then I realize,
The wall is crumbling,
Slowly…

Maybe we were a blink of an eye,
But in it I took a million breaths.

Skin; Silk,
Lips; Warm.

How much do you remember?
How much do I?

If you watch sidewalk long enough,
Others passing by will seem like droplets,
Racing one another,
Dancing their way through this urban chaos,
Merging when they can,
On their journey home.

And when light asked,
“Where shall I rest?”
I pointed in her direction,
And glowed did she,
All her curves and edges,
Dimples and hair strands,
All for which my song was written,
Was illuminated.

We look at what's left of each other,
Replaced by filters, edits, lies,
Of what we hope to be,
Or what we hoped to be.

Loud are our imperfections,
Their incessant buzzing,
Like flies inside our minds.

You’re the honey in the jar,
I can hold you,
But there’s still that glass between us.

I want unscrew that cap and reach inside,
Use my hands,
Sticky,
The scent of you,
Lingers,
Like every word that leaves your lips.