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Feb 2014 · 431
Insomnia
Tyler G Feb 2014
I crawl into my nook under a warm blanket of self-love. Darkness fills my void and I succumb to sleep.

The sheep I count are green and three-legged, there’s daisies for clouds and orange grass. I’m soaring through space outside of some distant planet’s atmosphere. I’m on my feet, on my block.

Suddenly, the warmth is pulled from me like a turkey baster fills with broth. And I feel a bony hand on the square of my back. It’s cold and it seems to come into me.

I’m wide awake.

The unwavering attendance of the Ghost Insomnia fills me like hate. I toss I turn, I feel it so close. It begins to warm me from the inside out. My eyes soon feel fuzzy, and bounce around in my skull; I can no longer read the time on the clock. My lips feel chapped shut, I can only breathe through my nose now. Shapes being to shift.

Where are you taking me?

Do you know what you’ve done to me?

And yet, each time morning arrives and the golden sun stretches across the sky and peaks through my window, I watch it do so. I watch it as the dark night sky soon turns lighter. It then becomes a light blue - the color of day and quickly transitions to a honey colored haze.

The sandbags under my eyes could’ve saved New Orleans.

Where are you taking me?
Feb 2014 · 371
Pss
Tyler G Feb 2014
Pss
The wind whirls

and traffic stops

Bring on the rain

and watch it pour for miles

all around

Thoughts and dreams melt from the sky

To be there with you is one thing

to have you with me is another

Waiting patiently

sometimes too anxious

I turn again to patience

Time ticks as the rain falls

as will the sun

Though it rises

and we have our victories

it soon shall set

upon our defeats

Rise with the sun

not after

and realize the prosperity one has

of being free

Free from all ideas, demands, wants, greed

evil and need

I fight my way against the traffic

as does the rain against

windshields

I’m greedy too I tell myself

but aren’t we all?
Feb 2014 · 335
Flowers
Tyler G Feb 2014
There are too many people I find beautiful. Beautiful in thousands of other ways than just their appearance. Their beauty is captivating, like a vase full of different kinds of flowers.
You pick it up when you think it needs water and you move it over to the sink, but somehow I always end up dropping myself.
A vase of flowers wouldn’t know to pick up the pieces.
Feb 2014 · 365
Untitled
Tyler G Feb 2014
To stand atop the tallest mountain, I would not be high enough.
To scream louder than a million decibels, I would not be loud enough.
To sink to the bottomest depth, I would not be hidden.
To freeze in time, I could not escape.
I desire to escape all but what I want.
But what we want, not need, we are inherent in failure.
Feb 2014 · 530
Untitled
Tyler G Feb 2014
Burn.
Yes, burn as a fire should
and melt away icicles that threaten your
livelihood.
Jan 2013 · 579
Danse
Tyler G Jan 2013
Ton sourire fait rire les oiseaux,

ton cœur fait chanter les abeilles,

ton façon de vivre fait parler les fleurs,

ton esprit fait danser mon cœur.
Jan 2013 · 618
I Used To
Tyler G Jan 2013
I used to enjoy writing.

     I used to hate the government.

          I used to be expressive.

     I used to love you.

I used to be young and foolish.

     I grew up.

          I gained a tainted mind, spoiled by reality.

     I used to be naive, gullible - now I’m shocked and upset by reality.
It’s not what my mind perceived.

                I’m mad at myself.
Dec 2012 · 322
Untitled
Tyler G Dec 2012
A cigarette for the
lungs,
a cup of tea for the
heart & head,
a large, white pill &
it's off to bed.
Dec 2012 · 609
Ode To You
Tyler G Dec 2012
I love you.

I want to introduce you to my parents. I want to tell the world about you and how happy you make me. I want everyone to ******* know - I don’t care how many times I’d have to say it.

I love spending time with you and having you in my presence; it makes me happy.

I love your smile, it makes me happy. It makes me forget all the ****** things in life, if but for a few moments.

I love looking in your eyes, it makes me feel warm inside.

I love hugging you, it makes me feel important to hold you and be the only one holding you and protecting you from everything else. I wish I could hold you more.

I love your laugh, it makes my soul dance.

I love the way you walk away from me, purposefully - I know you’ll be back.

I love talking with you, you’re so smart (much smarter than me). You know how much I love to talk, and I’d stop the world to listen to you forever.

I know my past relationship was unexpected, but that’s over now - I realized how stupid I was for getting myself into a mess like that and I hope you know that too.

I’d love to sit on the couch in front of the fireplace watching movies you enjoy watching, sitting close together under the blankets with you in my arms.

I love walking down the beach with you, watching the waves break and slam into the shore. I know it scares you, but one day, I’d help you overcome that fear if you’d trust me enough.

I’d love to buy you gifts (not too often though, because you know I’m poor, but rich in love), they’d be from the heart.

I’d love to lay in bed with you, my arm around your side and listen to your heart beat methodically. And I’d love to wake up next to you, the sun bouncing off your face and hair as you blink the dreams from your eyes.

You calm me down, I’d quit smoking cigarettes if I was with you - that’s the only stress relief I need. And I believe you’re truly the only other person who understands me the most. You don’t fully know me yet and I feel I know less about you, however, but I’m more than willing to change that.

If you could just give me that one chance to prove to you I can change in ways you couldn’t imagine, you’d make my life complete.

If I only had the courage to tell you these things. If only I wasn’t so ******* stupid.
Dec 2012 · 1.7k
Planes
Tyler G Dec 2012
"Planes are mysterious" she told me.
I've taken my fair share of plane rides on various distances,
but I never understood the mystery.

"They take you so far away
so quickly."

"A creepy house,
a dead animal on the side of the road,
uncles,
and politics are mysterious."

"Then you don't understand the joy," she says,
"Of packing a bag and leaving.
The next time you talk to people,
you're a hundred, or a thousand miles away.
That's the mystery."

"Where will you be tomorrow?" I demanded.
Dec 2012 · 565
Four Days
Tyler G Dec 2012
And as the seconds tick away, I countdown to my departure.
Four more days, I think to myself.
That's all I need to endure before I leave this place.
I'll leave this small town and return to my former French town.
I can't wait to see faces and hear voices I haven't in a while.
But,
I can't help but feel it was my fault all along.
Maybe you've poisoned me. Maybe you know I'd **** to have you be my everything.
Unfairly, your words penetrate my thoughts like a needle through a water balloon.
And like a sponge, my brain over analyzes each word.
And,
like a young child, I get wrapped in my imagination,
teetering between one idea and another.
I'm indecisive,
I always have been,
but if there's one thing I know,
ninety-six hours to go.
Dec 2012 · 826
Toi
Tyler G Dec 2012
Toi
Je ne plus comprendre comment aimer.
Toi,
t'as parti sans moi.
Tu m'avais laisser dans la rue sans un pull,
sans une tête,
sans un cœur.
Tu l'as pris comme la diable que tu es.
Mais,
je t'aime, je t'aime, je t'aime.
Je ne comprends pas comment tu peux pas m'aimer comme je t'aime,
ma belle.
On peux changer le monde entier.
Toi,
tu peux changer ma vie simplement avec un regarde
de tes yeux trop bleu.
Les yeux de la mer.
Les yeux bleu comme la mer et violent comme des vagues.
Les vagues intensifs qui cognes sur le sable de mon cœur.
Si je peux m’arrêter de t'aimer, je le ferai,
mais,
comme je peux jamais arrêter de t'aimer,
ici je resterai, tout seul avec mon tasse de thé vert.
Dec 2012 · 573
Misplaced Care
Tyler G Dec 2012
Where in your heart
can you find space to
love me.

Love me as you do
everything else.

You have the biggest heart
and the most compassion
of anyone I know.

You'd never do wrong
on purpose or
hurt for revenge.

But
where
in your heart
can you find enough love
to love me?

Love me
as I love you.
Dec 2012 · 303
Untitled
Tyler G Dec 2012
When it rains, the steady tap down the storm drain above my window reminds me of you.
I can’t remember your face right away, and I’ve forgotten what your voice sounds like, but the putter patter reminds me of the sound of your tears hitting the floor.
I don’t know who you are anymore, nor do I care, but I need to know: why? Why cry when there’s so many other things to do?
Why be so obsessive over something so insignificant, a human life?
Shouldn’t you be crying over the fact that one day you will die? That doesn’t seem to be a problem for most people, but you will die and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. At least you can stop yourself from falling in love…
Dec 2012 · 4.9k
I Am
Tyler G Dec 2012
I am the shattered glass on your speckled floor. I am your blatant disregard; I am your car’s speedometer: the needle is well into the triple digits. I am the fresh rain on the old asphalt, the slick, frictionless surface between rubber and wet asphalt.
I am disease, destruction.
I am the spirit that breaks up families; I am a home wrecker. I am six years of marriage, a strong bond, destroyed. I am seventeen years, two houses, two marriages, two divorces. I destroy, I break, I mistreat, I use. I disobey.
I am apathy; “Who cares?” I am natural disasters, I plague your towns and ruin your ecosystems. I am global warming, holes in the Ozone; holes in your brain. I am ecstasy, euphoria, nostalgia; I am illicit substances. I am good, I am bad, right, wrong. I am “three lefts make a right”.
I am your daily struggle; your endeavors to abscond from conformity, from similarity, one-mindedness. Social destruction internally, from the people within. We eat away at our own regime, scouring for anyone different to spite them while we chew away and succumb to our own insanities while the nonconformists, the infidels, the rebels, the heretics, they stand by and watch you. We are different, but join together as one physically, and watch you, you mentally attached beings, destroy yourselves with your pretty clothes, expensive makeup and two door cars.
I resist, I defy, I am a renegade from the mental oneness. I have my personal oneness, and that’s what I am. I am one being, one soul, one complete set of organs, bones, tissues and veins, one sentient form. I am the laughter in your ears, the heckles from your classmates. You are your insecurity, I am your apathy.
This is my harangue, my lecture to society, my discourse of great unconcern. You all, you all one mental being whom cannot think for themselves until conjoined with someone as the same likeness. You cannot understand these words I repress your likeness mindfuck with. My apathy is wasted on the ignorant, the solitary conformation, the greedy mind ***** of this world; you longing to be like someone else. You want to fit in, and henceforth, my words have been squandered, left here on this domain to take up space, this viable invention carrying one more nonsensical harassment of the conformers. I am the freckles on your face, I am the birthmarks on your skin. I am the dandruff in your hair, the pimples on your face, the purity of your skin sans daily application of makeup to hide the imperfections that everyone has, that everyone knows about, the imperfections that you don’t want people to think you have. You wish to be a divine being, one without mistakes, from birth to death, your celestial life will be filled with lies that the conformers are force fed. They crave that. You all crave ***** lies, filthy gossip.
I am a loaded gun; I am the second amendment of this worthless country’s constitution. I am the Hemp paper it’s written on; the implausibilities of this country, this state of oneness, conforming. I am the embarrassment you seek to shun from your life. “Oh my God, dad, stop embarrassing me!” You are your phone bills, you are lethargy with regards to other humans’ emotions.
You lead the conformers; they aspire to be you. You shoot down the differences of the nonconformists. You dash individuality and support pop culture, a culture of mental oneness. You are your disgust and I am rewarded. You hate me because I’m not you, we are not connected through the same telepathic, social, daily mindfuck. We love that; I want you to hate me, because I am winning. I am winning your war against yourself. By being different, I have, unbeknownst to you, pitted that piece of your brain that has been unaffected by your grand scheme of oneness against yourself.
You are bemused, destroyed from within, yet you fight it, because you are connected with millions of others through one enormous mindfuck, like aliens. You all dress the same and have the same values. I am different. I am fine with walking alone, I know how to handle myself alone and I am not afraid to be alone. Point your pristine fingers at me, cover your mouths and giggle when I walk passed; those pristine fingertips will only seek to find the comfort of a cellphone or a keyboard - a reliable second option to your oneness. So go ahead, be the same children, live a robotic life of ignorance and wealth, go, live like kings and queens.
I am happy for who I am and where I’ve gotten because I am different, and you have yet to realize each time you ridicule me, shun me, disregard my absurd practices, you are defeating yourself; it makes me better. I am detached from you, from your continental mindfuck, your baiting fear of singularity, uniqueness. I am unique, different, single; I am also joined together of my own oneness, a oneness of will, of physical bonds between different people. I learn to adapt, to accept; you will botch the young, restless years of your life becoming one with everyone through mental bonds of instability, ignorance, of togetherness.
I am the strength which you lack and cannot learn. I am what I want and there is no feasible way for me to lose faith, my individuality. Point your fingers at me; you are defeating yourself.
Dec 2012 · 442
Gray
Tyler G Dec 2012
There’s only so much time in a day,

Yet I seem to be wasting it anyway.

The trees know when to give in,

Rake up the leaves and put ‘em in the bin.

It’s a cycle that we humans can’t seem to learn; when it’s time to give in, we keep wanting to fight. Maybe that’s the right thing to do; maybe we should be like the trees.

When it gets too cold, they drop their leaves.

Take a breath, baby, and be at ease.

The passion we share for one another could not be thrown away.

Wasted like the time in a day.

I’ll sit here, tomorrow, a day after that, a week, months and I could think to myself: “What could I be doing today?”

The air would answer: “Wasting the time of your day.”
Dec 2012 · 21.1k
The Things I Carry
Tyler G Dec 2012
I carry the shallow weight of my own regrets.
I carry the guilt of my mother who felt she could’ve done more for my grandmother.
Nights spent, teary-eyed phone calls to the nursing home.
I carry the comprehension of my father.
Hundreds of times he’s defeated me at chess, at card games.
I am his knowledge.
I carry sorrow from soccer games lost and triumph from games won with the stench of wet grass and caked on mud still fresh in my memory.

I carry the weight of high school, the pressure to get into college, the weight of rumors and the regret of not paying attention in class.
Feeling hopeless and defeated when I fail a test, though I remember I can carry the power of success.
I carry the daily jeers and spite of my peers and my teachers.
I carry the burden of my mother’s size eight firmly up my *** when I don’t do what I’m told.
I carry three-day weekends and the joy of a snow day.

I carry my blood, my veins, my organs.
I carry my bones, my cartilage, my flesh and my hair.
I carry my beating heart and the sound it makes letting everyone around me and myself to know that I’m still very much alive.
I carry the ability of perfect hindsight vision, the ability of blind foresight.

I carry my friends, the pressure of their own burdens.
I own the ability to make them smile, the ability to cheer them up when I don’t know how to help myself.
I’ve carried some of them for as long as I can remember; some I can’t carry anymore, and some I’ve just started to carry.

I carry love and passion; I carry hate and abhor.
I carry confusion, delirium, nostalgia of days past.
I carry insomnia and sleepless nights dreaming up at my ceiling of life to come.
I carry my dreams, both physical and mental.
I carry what I aspire to be.
I carry photography, a story of my life through pictures, through captivity, through still frame.
I carry my wishes.

I carry the beach, the waves that crash down onto the shore and onto me and the salty residue that lands on my flesh and hair from staying out too long.

I carry stupidity, I carry charm and I carry luck.
I carry the regret of anonymity and the fear of being alone.
We all carry that; no one wants to spend life alone.
We carry expensive wedding bands and the pressure to say “Yes” and the hope that she’ll say it.

I carry the everlasting gaze of older relatives, some who have passed on to a better world.
They won’t have to carry anything anymore.

I carry countless vacations and holidays spent with my cousins and the millions of laughs we have shared.

I carry reminiscences of vacations and of meeting new people, people who I tried to stay in contact with, but alas, distance prevents friendship.
I carry the knowledge of the traveled world and the confusion of the uninhabited, undiscovered land.
I am a world traveler, I am a superhero; I am what I want to be and I carry that.

I carry a tainted mind.
A mind spoiled by politics, by war, greed and corruption of not only the government, but of my parents as well.
I carry the ignorance of thinking I’m right and everyone else is wrong, the false sense that I know what is really going on in the world and that I, and I alone, can make a difference.

I carry the benefit of living in a prosperous nation, a flourishing town.
I carry the thought of uncertainty of impoverish nations and how they live everyday without food and water, while I sit here and type on my own personal laptop.

I carry teenage angst.
I carry thoughts and memories of former lovers.
Some girls who have grown up to be different than what they once were, some who haven’t changed a bit.
I carry the thoughts of wonder, should I have said something to her?

I carry individualism, not being afraid of letting you know who I am and what I do.
I am myself and if you can’t deal with it then you won’t have to carry me anymore.
I no longer carry these words; my thought have been poured onto this paper.
My future holds the risk of not knowing what I will carry tomorrow, but I know I will carry life.
I know I may not be able to carry this all, but one thing is for certain: I will carry myself.
Dec 2012 · 742
Hitherto
Tyler G Dec 2012
She bounces around,

hitherto,

not like the seasons, strict and

predictable,

but more like summer rains,

calm and pleasant,

or like summer storms,

hot and violent.

I wish I could predict her next move.

— The End —