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Jan 27 · 61
Short Poem
Tyler Jan 27
Inside your head you hear crickets.
You wake up and see the stars ,
And feel leather and fear.
That’s all for now
Later is the part we rip each other apart
Figuratively, of course.
Tyler May 2022
The cluttered old shelves, always dusty
Hung through Merlot red wallpaper
With little tears in it, adorned
By faint outlines of broken hearts.
Little pretty things.
All with handwritten price tags,
All asking you to bleed.
Dead roses and heart shaped boxes.
Emerald necklaces, diamond rings.
Slender books filled with sappy poetry.
Snow-globes capturing old memories.
Your favorite sweater she never gave back.
(You never asked)
The photographs you threw away.
(You never forgot)
Glass shards from broken liquor bottles.
Everything in the Emporium of Misplaced Lovers
Yours, for blood from your broken heart.
May 2022 · 269
Our Bedroom II
Tyler May 2022
Every morning, the dark room.
Every morning, the wandering hands.
           The white linen, the black curtains.
The Golden light waiting behind them
      Silence in the air
Silence in every breath you breathe
          Every one of them is for me, I know.
            The white walls, the black ink.
The green leaves of the spider plant
      Sitting on top of our dresser
That you swore you’d **** within a week
          But will never wither or wilt.

          The soft touch, the strong arms.
The wandering hands, restless
      Until the find you, they always do.
So they may pull me closer to you
          As the golden light fills our bedroom.
May 2022 · 228
Tyler May 2022
Moonlight pours over your skin;
                 Your eyes still closed.
In this moment
I can almost imagine your lips moving
                    And down
Telling me you don’t know what love is
And asking me if I do
                                       As if i have a clue
A new lover
                      Her deep brown eyes
                      Her hands
                      Her touch
                      Her lips
             Not yours.
I’m trying to be fearless because I know,
                             I know she wants me,
needs me, craves me.
It makes me feel handsome.
With her nails in my back I apologize
         That I don’t know if I love her or not
She pulls my face to hers and whispers
Love isn’t always roses and heart shaped boxes
Sometimes it’s a guilty conscience and scratch marks in your back.
My mind goes back to you
              Your hazel eyes
              Your hands
              Your touch
              Your lips
Telling me you don’t know what love is
       And me
Wishing I said we can figure it out.
Tyler Apr 2022
Always the harp strung out.
              Always the cactus deserted.

All you wanted was something definitive.
I cant blame you
            For looking past little words
That weren’t even said to your face.
         You look beautiful tonight,
But that’s nothing new.
          Face to face,
I wonder what pattern of words and
            Could make every inch of you mine.

My heart: a lone oak tree.

All I wanted was the world
                                               But I’d settle for Asher, Arizona, with you.
              In complete honestly
There’s not much difference between the two.
Love in the desert, love in the mountains
Love in my arms, love in the Pacific,
                    Love in my passenger seat
Love on stage
           Love walking away in my headlights.
                  “Love loves to love love.”

Hello, Love
I’m sorry my smiles a bit crooked,
          I’m sorry I’m looking at you like this,
                    I’m sorry I had to go and ruin,    
              everything by saying it all out loud.

Here’s the part where an anxious 20 year old sends the
exact right text message at the exact right
Hello darling, I can’t wait for you
                    To come home for the weekend
So we can make strawberry cake
        And fall on my kitchen floor laughing
Spilling bottles of cheap wine
            While I finally draw the words I
Have always wanted to here from you
                        And return them in kind

I’m sorry about all that.
                   If you’d like
                        We can forget about all that
            And get matching tattoos
In the morning before you leave.
                   If you’d like              
  We can pretend it’s all so simple.

I’m sorry if I ****** you
                              Even if it is intentional.
Here’s the part where I forget all my apologies:
I grab you by the waist and
     Tickle you
                    Because I know
You’ll fall into me laughing
           And rest your head on my chest
And when you look up
                     I’ll be there to kiss you
And take you away to dark rooms
     With confident hands
Bad intentions
                               And the crazed euphoria
Of feeling your skin against mine.
Apr 2022 · 127
Strong Arms
Tyler Apr 2022
Your eyes burn through the cold
                           And me
They wander like
                                They’re lost
And a little scared
                   Looking for something
     To hold on to
                                             Until they find
A pair of strong arms
Loosely attached
                                to a weak man.

Hypocrite I am, I want you to go further
I want you
I want you
              To tighten your grip ever so slightly
I want you
              To want to be with me alone
Somewhere with dimmed lights
And silence in the air between us

You’ll have me with a few whispered words
Or if you pulled yourself any closer to me
                      Hypocrite I am,
I’ll just lead you there.
                                       You make the call
          If all you want can be found in
A pair of strong arms
Loosely attached
                                to a weak man
Apr 2022 · 94
Tyler Apr 2022
I wake up to
Golden morning.
Stand up,
                 Stretch my arms,
                                                Brush my teeth
And walk in a perfect circle
Wondering where I’ll end up
                                This time.

A rat gnaws on my brain until
A million or so tiny words
                                          Bleed out of it
They all just read about
  The lacerated seams in my skin
That separate all of this
And all of that

Through this
                                 I picture you
Looking at me and saying
“I’m so incredibly lucky for you to be in love with me”
               Do you ever think that?
Mentally, I’m slaying dragons for you.
Im placing my hand on your back
Hoping you don’t think it’s a bit much

            The bare naked truth is
                                             You terrify me.
But in an okay way
                                 Or learning how to drive
It all could be over in 5 minutes
But it’s a thrill,
       You make me feel like a real person

But I want more than that
       I want you
To make a frame with your hands
        And put my face in it
             Then call me your masterpiece
Be a perfectionist,
                                           Perfect me

We’ve been on the edge before
                          Probably 50 or so times
Where I nearly traced over your curves
                         And edges
With trembling fingers
And surprised you don’t pull away    
Before we lose our nerve

And then I write about
                            Walking in circles  
Or some dumb metaphor
Scarred skin
                       And hope that you can relate.
Tyler Mar 2022
She walked in beauty
As if she hadn’t
The slightest idea
She was mine.
When she passed me
And I saw her smile
Smelled her perfume
I remembered all
That was stolen
From me.
How careless was I?
How careless was I?
To leave home
With the front door
Mar 2022 · 320
Tyler Mar 2022
He looks at himself a sinner
With horrible thoughts.
He looks at her, an hourglass
Running out of sand.

He wishes to be the twisted sheets
That cover her body as she sleeps.  
Or an unspoken thought
Melting away on her tongue.

He’d walk on burning coals
To be a little closer to her.
Then offer his tender flesh,
His scars and all, to her

He longs to be the stars
That she sees above her at night.
And a sweet grapefruit
With skin her fingernails

Rip apart.
Mar 2022 · 71
Tyler Mar 2022
The sun won’t fall
                                 As I chase you
Around Penrose stairs
                                 I’ve almost got you
Almost all caught up
                                 And in the clear
I can almost touch
                                 Your beautiful face
And I think to myself
                                “Am I ready for this?”
Mar 2022 · 57
Our Bedroom
Tyler Mar 2022
Golden light pours onto us
Like a baptism by dawn
This moment always feels holy
And I can hear Church bells ringing
But they haven’t woken you.
Because the world is still now
Nothing matters but this.
And I can just gaze at you
In wonderment, in enchantment
Like a holy shrine
Blessed to everyone near you,
But still only mine.

When you wake up we’ll leave this place
Find Jacques or Pierre at the Cafe
He will already know our order
It will be the same as every other morning
I’ll read a newspaper
                   And say
real smart stuff about the economy,
Or war in the Middle East,
And hope you’re impressed,
And crack a joke here and there
So I can see your smile and hear you laugh.
I can’t see anything past that      
From lying here in our bedroom.

Beneath our window
On cobblestone streets
People are speaking French
We may never understand them,
But when we walk those streets,
                        We know.
They’re talking about
How beautiful we are
And of course how American too.
We’ll never fit in, but that’s okay
Because Paris is ours anyway
I see it when I look in your eyes
And nowhere’s ever felt more like home.
Mar 2022 · 199
Swans in the Sky
Tyler Mar 2022
If you could put it in the air,
Would you?
Like swans in the sky,
Beauty surrounds me
Because you’re here
And nothing could ever feel more real
More important
More solid
More authentic
Yet so ethereal
As when you fall into my arms again
Even knowing it’s temporary
Doesn’t take a thing away from all this

Like swans in the sky,
Beauty is above me
Because you’re on top of me
And nothing could ever feel more real
Than your fingers running through my hair
And all of you
Wrapped up in my arms’ ink
Only half ashamed.
But this moment is fading
There’s silence now.
And a question devastates me,
“If you could put it in the air
Would you?”

Like swans in the sky.
Mar 2022 · 53
Tyler Mar 2022
Youll **** your self up
If your folks didn’t already
Staring into mirrors
Like they’re another universe
Frozen in the cosmic horror
Of you and everything you are
Hour after hour.
A stubborn *******
With a mind full of bees.
But you’ll find ways
To look at the ceiling
As you put on mascara
And focus on the background
As you paint your lips red.
Excuse yourself when Grandma
Pulls out the family photo album.
And time will not wait
The earth will turn
Dynasties will end
Wars will be fought
Your sister will move out
Grandma will die.
And you’ll never really see any of it
As long as you just stare into mirrors
Through bloodshot eyes
And don’t learn you don’t always
Need to just
Tear yourself open
And bleed everywhere
Mar 2022 · 55
Shut Door
Tyler Mar 2022
I said it in moments of crisis,
But never when you wished or wanted.
Always to your shut door.
Admittedly, never looking into your irises.

I will always think of the things I lack.
Always wonder if you felt anything at all.
Always wonder what you thought.
Those times you didn’t say it back.
Mar 2022 · 60
Cherry Stem
Tyler Mar 2022
Sometimes I still feel 18
Like I could still be
Picked apart just by
Looking in your eyes

Like I’m still watching you
Tie a cherry stem
And silently hoping you
Were trying to impress me

And I can almost still feel
Your lips on mine
And the peace I felt
For just that moment

But we grew up
You moved on, moved away
Out of reach, not out of mind
In and out of love all at once

But you can still find me
Driving too fast down dirt roads
Trying to crack jokes at the drive thru window
And breaking down in the Walmart parking lot

Thinking of you
Feb 2022 · 59
August 14th
Tyler Feb 2022
It’s August 14th and I am thinking of you.
As the Summer’s monsoon breathes
It’s final breath, and ceases.
I will see it again, and I will see you.

But I’ll have changed a million times
I’ll color over tattoos that remind me of you.
Changed my name, my frame,
And forget if you care at all.

Maybe you do. I know you did.
I can still feel your head resting on my chest.
All our memories are salt to my bleeding flesh
Because of overthinking and insecurity.

Because I would’ve called you,
If I thought you were ever home.
Came over,
If I thought you were Alone,
Took you as mine
If only I had known.
Feb 2022 · 117
Strawberry Pancakes
Tyler Feb 2022
What hurts is
I can still imagine
The feeling of your nails
In my back,
Your lips
On my neck,
My hand
On your throat.
A moment reaching
It’s point of crisis,
And none of it feels wrong,
Then when it’s over
There would be nothing
Left to do but
Wake up the next day
To your sleeping face;
Blanketed by the quiet light of morning,
Walk into the kitchen,
Make you strawberry pancakes
(Probably a little burnt),
Kiss your cheek,
And tell you how beautiful you are.
Feb 2022 · 57
a moment
Tyler Feb 2022
Just like that, everything was still.
My blood ran cold. Air trapped itself in my lungs.
Bursting forward but stopped by some
Force within me. My numb lips grew warm.

(Then hot.
It was all so familiar.)

And for a moment there was time.
Time for you
And time for me
Time to hear words spill out from your lips

(Like sweet honey
And maraschino cherries.)

Time for miracles,
Time for horrors,
Time for a thousand more “I’m sorry’s”
And a thousand “You know I ******* loved you.”’s

(To think “plans change a lot.”
We have that written in ink.)

Time for Parisian flats
For golden morning light pouring through windows,
And typewriters,
And a cup of coffee growing cold.

(I’ll come to where you are
Alone in the quiet light)

Just like that, the moment was passed.
Time was up.
I could breathe.
My lips were numb again.

(And I was happy. You were happy.
We were happy.)
Dec 2021 · 40
Truly Yours
Tyler Dec 2021
Nights of passion, nights of regret
They’re the same for me
Better than nights wasted thinking
Thinking of a moment, a second
A second to force the moment to its crisis
A second to relive memories that haunt
Like a specter passing by
A second to be torn apart
By your nails in my back
And lips against my neck
A second to burn
Like pomegranate *****
With no chaser
And be yours
Truly yours
Jul 2021 · 59
Southern Arizona Poem
Tyler Jul 2021
My chest is made of copper
Like all fourth generation Arizonans.
Strong, sturdy, homegrown.
Like every ancient thirsting saguaro
That 18 year old Scottsdalers watch
Flying by their car passenger window
In mid-August, going to Tucson,
The ***** T. Baja, U.S.A.
To experiment with bisexuality
And pursue a liberal arts degree.
Jul 2021 · 58
Walking Through Paris
Tyler Jul 2021
Looking into storefront windows
I see your silhouette
Always next to me, facing me
And if I could make out the picture
A little clearer
And you weren’t just a shadow
I know
You’d have that same **** sad look
That always gets me
And I’d ask you
“Are we still not done with all this?”
Jun 2021 · 578
Contact High
Tyler Jun 2021
I was sober
Your hand
Grazed mine
Jun 2021 · 211
An Ode to the Queen
Tyler Jun 2021
Black mare in the background,
Crumbling castle.
A personal opera’s decrescendo
You are dust,
And to dust you shall return.
Eras fade, gold dulls to plastic.
A crown is just a hat.
You, an old woman.
Jun 2021 · 109
Ode to Ridle Baku
Tyler Jun 2021
Watching Ridle Baku takes me back
To cobblestone streets
Strangers speaking in mysterious, angry accents
Asking, “bist du Amerikaner?”
A few blocks separated us,
A chain and barbed wire fence
And MP’s wielding machine guns
But on Saturday’s my parents took me out to the market
And I wonder if we ever passed by each other
Two children in the same city
The city was yours, is yours.
I was just a tenant.
Standing in ancient shadows.
I never knew Arizona didn’t have castles
Until I left, and I missed them.
I got a Mainz 05 scarf when I was 18.
A year before I watched you play for them,
And score against Leipzig.
And the city cheered.
Your city cheered.
And all at once I realized how much I loved Mainz
And how badly I wanted to call Mainz home.
How badly I wanted the city I grew up in to feel like home.
Tyler Apr 2021
My folks cut off my roots.
I almost never knew that
I’m just four generations removed
From fighting with Pearce.
Six from being born into genocide.
“Ar scath a cheile a mhairean na daoine.”
I was placed on dead men’s shoulders.
Great men, terrifying men.
But they’re not here, where are they?
That’s a weird question, here.
I don’t pray enough.
Hardly ever touch a rosary.
Most others don’t even consider the act.
But that’s all there is for the last of us.
If there are any.
Unless we’ve all outlived
The last American Irishman.
Mar 2021 · 64
All the Rest
Tyler Mar 2021
You’ll **** yourself up, you will, you know it.
Staring at paintings of purple women,
Through indifferent eyes; flames will be lit
Just so you may feel something. And what then?

You, you, you, and the cross you say you bear.
Not nailed, but rather tied, fettered, and bound
To the wood by splintered brown and blonde hair,
Severing with a cracking, moaning sound.

Love is written large across your stomach; 
Not your heart, not your lips, nowhere it should.
Nowhere protected from the candle’s wick.
Nowhere it can turn into something good.

When it’s time, find bravery in your chest.
Do not fight it, just burn with all the rest.
Mar 2021 · 57
Over and over
Tyler Mar 2021
Blood was running down my spine and
All I could think of was if you
would think more of me for this. And
Would you slowly run your fingers
Over my delicate raised wound,
Over and over and over.

I don’t believe anyone that says
They “like” the feeling of getting
tattooed. Feeling the needle dig
Remorselessly into your skin.
Again and again, rapidly,
But seemingly completely at
Ease—confident, collected, cool.
And then there’s the anxiety.
The ******* endless anxiety
Of change. Irrevocable change that
Voluntary scarring and a
Set rate of one hundred dollars
Per hour for a C-rate tattoo
Artist who smells strongly of ****.
And I hate ****, all it does is
Make me anxious. Just like change, and
Like every time I get another
Tattoo. But I did this on a
Whim, without thought of pain or angst.

I had blood running down my spine
Just so you might want to see it,
And maybe think more of me, and
Maybe run your fingers slowly
Over my delicate raised wound
Over and over and over .
Mar 2021 · 70
Tyler Mar 2021
Drunk, ******, and filled with glass.
Draping my broken arms around you,
And through pursed lips I think,
“I’m so sorry for everything.”
I meant it. God I did. God I do.
Even with my vices I know
Love is more than pretty words.
More than you, me, more than poetry.
But God we were so close to infinite,
So close to indescribable.
Beautiful, perfect, lovely, flaws and all,
And that’s us, and I still believe
I’ve never looked better
Than I did in my reflection in your eyes.
Jan 2021 · 67
Tyler Jan 2021
I became what I once hoped you wanted
Through years passed, years dead, and gone but not forgotten
With paintings of you dried like ink on skin
Through memories pondered, missed, and aged but not rotten

I never jumped off bridges except when i did for you
But still never enough to force moments to their crises
Never enough to satisfy, never enough to understand
But enough to never forget those ****** irises

A funny thought is, they never had a color to me
They were just what they were
Heavens gates couldn’t be so lovely
My world was those eyes, the rest was a blur

A funny thought is, that I am content
Finally understanding what it all meant
Dec 2020 · 50
About a Parade
Tyler Dec 2020
There’s a ticker tape parade on 7th street
And I’m contemplating the life and times of James Joyce. That’s my scene. In another a beautiful woman is staring in the mirror; Inquisitive as she is, she ponders the pros and cons of having her nose touched up. She’ll never make up her mind, but time will for her. “I should have been a pair of ragged claws.” Joyce says, to which I reply, “What the ****?” I like to get into fights. On 7th street a child is riding on his fathers shoulders, smiling, without any knowledge of the ions of death destruction and oppression which humanity has toiled through in the midst of patriarchal norms and bourgeois practices of power and control that have led up to that moment in which he laughs as a float with a Lockheed Martin logo passes by. I envy him. Why yes, I do attend a liberal arts college.
Nov 2020 · 44
Word by Word
Tyler Nov 2020
The bitter cold snarls and bares it’s teeth,
With a clenched jaw and fingers tightly wrapped
Around a secret but known hidden sheath.
Bravely but terribly gazing into the dark.
I’ve seen it day and seen it night.
Seen it in reflections of paintings and in men
Of a terrible manner; men of a hideous nature.
Seen it in questions asked of “where” and “when.”
Seen it brush against the tips of my fingers,
But too far off to grasp or possess.
Too far off to hear my whisper, “I beg you, yes.”

Seven rows of dreams deferred.
Seven more scolded and deterred.
Seven last better left unheard.

And so I’ve heard their cries
From time to time, and seen
Their looks; entertained their lies,
And they were always filled with mercy.
Kindness, sympathy, pity, and some shame,
And I would admit that that being that is best.
For if the scene were to reach its crescendo,
If questions were asked, answered and put to rest.
Then where would we go from there?
To a thousand simple thoughts,
A hint of passion, a little wit,
To the blackest crevice of a burrowed pit

Seven rows of dreams deferred.
Seven more scolded and deterred.
Seven last better left unheard.

Hopefully, soon, you will forget my name,
The tyranny of courteous chains, relinquished.
Broken, buried, but survived by shame,
And wouldnt that be what’s best?
And would you notice?
How I sink into defeat,
As a thousand thoughts replace a thousand more;
Of how you’ll see my little retreat.
And will you see past the space in my eyes?
Seven galaxies between you and me.
Filled with lines crossed, broken, and blurred,
Laid out neatly before us, word by word.

Seven rows of dreams deferred.
Seven more scolded and deterred.
Seven last better left unheard.
Jul 2020 · 56
About a Stranger
Tyler Jul 2020
You were a stranger,
And I loved you before I knew you,
But it was a conditioned love.
For if you didn’t look like you did,
Or talk like you did,
Or think like you did,
I wouldn’t have loved you at all.
If you were nothing like how you were,
I would have never loved you.
So it was a conditioned love,
And you were passive about it all.
It wasn’t your fault, you couldn’t help who you were.
But you never stopped it.
You let it fester,
And let me burn for you with
Love and lust until the two became one,
And it became all I was.
The air I breathed was for you.
So I burnt and you watched,
Or maybe you didn’t,
Maybe it was too terrible to see.
All I know is that you’re covered in my ashes,
And you look stunning in grey.
Jun 2020 · 54
Charles’ Poem
Tyler Jun 2020
Charles you’re looking pale
And your fingers are curved
And clenched, and cold, and light
They feel like a chill around my throat
You should really get some rest
Or maybe drink some wine
You oppress me with your conversation
And I never know what to say when you’re like this
Hit me, Charles.
I want you to hit me.
Maybe one of us would feel something if you did
Maybe we could live a little
Because this isn’t life, Charles
This is Hell
And you started the fire
And I hold the keys to every room
Apr 2020 · 71
In the Night
Tyler Apr 2020
Around street corners,
On dimly lit sidewalks,
She’ll come back to you.

As a burnt cigarette drops at your feet,
And you let out your last warm gasp of nicotine,
She’ll come back to you.

As you feel the cold on your bare cheeks,
And zip your sweater all the way up,
She’ll come back to you

Outside the liquor store on 8th street,
With a brown bag in one hand,
She’ll come back to you.

As she takes your other hand in hers,
And burns through you with her smile,
She’ll come back to you.

With warm brown eyes that feel like home,
And skin you could melt into at any second,
She’ll come back to you.

With her kiss,
And her sweet red lips,
She’ll come back to you.

When your head hits the pillow,
And your mind looks for its favorite story,
She’ll come back to you.

In the night.
In your dreams.
She’ll come back to you.
Mar 2020 · 78
Jenny it's Getting Dark
Tyler Mar 2020
Jenny it’s getting dark and
             I should really be getting home,
                                                But I’m in New York City,
And I’m drunk,
And I don’t know what I should be doing with my hands but
I wish I could hold you in them.
Just so I’d know what to do with my hands.
And they wouldn’t feel so weighted,
        And there’d be something in my palms
To keep them from balling into fists.
         I wonder if you were here
If you’d even see me at all;
Now that I’m such a New Yorker.
          And do all these things I’d like to say I hate
But love.
I’m not not myself.
        On the contrary actually.
  I’ve just finally discovered the tools necessary
To make me who I’ve always been.
  I was not who I was.
And you were not who I thought you were.
Or maybe you were.
                     Who am I to say.
I’m just a man you never knew who is deeply, foolishly, and                   completely irresponsibly in love with you.
And who wishes you were here
So he could hold you
And keep his hands from balling into fists.
Mar 2020 · 37
To Be Plain
Tyler Mar 2020
A Tequila Sunrise
at the Roadhouse.
A warm cup of coffee
with cinnamon sprinkled in.

I begin my dissertation on Ted Berrigans Sonnet 2.
A piece of my soul.
Although I am not 18 and my hands hardly shake anymore,
And I absolutely do not in fact know better.

The wind is angry tonight.
Conquering the dark with its horrible howls.
But it will not prevail against these walls,
That stand around this little Eden.

A bed, a candle, some stillness and calm;
I need nothing more than these things.
This is love—to be plain.
This is all love has ever been—to be plain.

Is what I strive for.
Is the feeling of holding Venus in my arms.
Tyler Jan 2020
Row by row and row by row,
Marching too and then marching fro,
The Ancient saints, gone—gone—gone,
Into the sea’s most violent throws.

Brothers and sisters look on,
To the bare grey of the new dawn,
To however this sets them free.
Waves pull the pelican and swan,

Down into antiquity.
No tears cried, no lost sympathy.
Mary, the Lord is with thee.
Hail Mary, the Lord is with thee.
Tyler Dec 2019
With the pale cracked mouth of a saint you spoke
In patterns; like all my favorite prayers,
Ave Maria, Our Father, so on.
Pray, pray, the old forbidden question.

Au revoir! Scene!

A half burnt cigarette lands at my feet.
Oh what’s it all mean? What is it to me?
The old Manhattan Opera is all filled
Up with those glowing pretty faces I love

Perfume and cologne, fur coats and bow ties.
The cool night rain douses the red embers,
I look up from it before i miss them;
The apparitions could disappear soon.

Any second! At a moments notice!
I could lose every single one of them,
And their glory, and their beauty, all gone.
Oh, but I pray, what would it be to me?

In the blink of an eye they could be light
Years away, and what would that be to me?
Tyler Nov 2019
They are marching in Warsaw,
Through their wind and their snow,
With their banners and their anthems,
And their God and their crucifixes.

They are marching in Warsaw,
Scared and proud,
Strong and powerless,
Loving and enraged.

They are marching in Warsaw,
With thundering footsteps,
That’s clapping fades into the sad,
Sad hums of something destined to be lost.

They are marching in Warsaw.
In vain. In vain.
Sep 2019 · 73
Crawl Space
Tyler Sep 2019
You are where you’ll always be
Laying silent in the crawl spaces of my mind
With hands filled with dirt and crushed pebbles
Eyes closed and that ****** bleeding smile
Basking in the glory of your own destruction
Aug 2019 · 84
At the Foot of Your Grace
Tyler Aug 2019
You bared your bleeding heart,
I couldn’t stop from falling hard;
Falling away... and I wish I could forget
All these visions that still fill up my head.
You look like my favorite sin.
Headlights on you, they never dim
Shining bright, waiting on a curtain call;
Walk away, maybe I won’t overthink this all.
I owe you so many thoughts I keep all to myself.
Can’t believe this is too good for my health;
You didn’t see how I died at the foot of your grace;
Call me a martyr with a cause gone to waste.
If I could relent to my old stubborn ways,
I’d again love to die by your grace.
Aug 2019 · 80
Tyler Aug 2019
With arms around you I make love to myself.
Outside the leaves are changing with the ode of Autumn,
And the rain sings my favorite grey old song,
But I don’t think it sings for me.
You look up at me as if this all means anything,
While I hate everything i do to you,
And I will not tell you my name,
But I don’t think you’d care to know it.
You’ll be done with whatever this is soon enough.
Our ****** vignette of nothingness.
You put your nails in my back like you’re supposed to,
I kiss your neck as I imagine I probably should.
We act out love like the marionettes we are,
But we will garner no applause.
Aug 2019 · 122
I, Yeats.
Tyler Aug 2019
You walk in the room and I lose my head,
Walk in the room and you run through my mind.
Some spoken words, a smile, my face turns red,
My courage, my voice, I never find.

What beauty with which you are inflicted,
Such that, by you, my dreams may be wrecked,
Their enduring secrecy, insisted,
My thoughts and feelings, you’ll never suspect.

All this to you, my beloved’s beloved;
My own Maud Gonne’s John Macbride, to I, Yeats,
What contrary roles are we behooved,
I, the ground she walks, you, her heavens’ gates.

Such looks, such passion, more than I could be.
I hold no ill-will, no scorn, just envy.
Aug 2019 · 359
My dream
Tyler Aug 2019
My dream: A juniper tree.
Giving shade, to you and me.
Where sin feels ever so sweet,
And our heart and thoughts roam free.

My dream: old cobblestone streets.
Where we feel no chill nor heat,
And you, my heart forever keeps
The old Parisian feat.

My dream: A chapel steep.
Ran down to Destiny’s deep
Grey eyes, that I see and weep.
For this dream, I stay asleep.
Jul 2019 · 79
Empty Words
Tyler Jul 2019
Pouring through an hourglass; she’s always “‘in love.’”
I look at her and see some of the stars I lost—years ago.
I never believe a feeling or a word she says,
But that’s nothing new.
I sit up before it all feels too familiar.
There’s a soliloquy of mine floating around,
I can’t quite catch it; I wouldn’t know what to do if I did.
The moment’s crisis is all but lost on me.
My ****** ego and pretentiousness.
I go home to forget any of it ever happened,
And I spell out “lust” where I mean “love.”
Jul 2019 · 121
Beneath Starlight
Tyler Jul 2019
Try, try, I try with all my might,
For years, years, for years I fight,
To love you how I think I ought,
Again, again, beneath starlight.

What passion has such moments brought:
Not spoken--but often thought,
From time, reaching that crisis,
Others, that progression is fought.

Such nights, so warm and desirous,
I find my lost, ancient virus,
Deep in those golden irises,
Lost in those golden irises.
Jun 2019 · 197
Spinning Out
Tyler Jun 2019
In through the nose and out through the mouth.
Over and over; repeat it ad nauseam.
Keep it up and find the way out
Breathe out Count to five out loud.
“One, two, three, four, five.”
Breathe in Now breathe out
Breathe out “One, two, three, four, five.”
Breathe in Now let it all out
“I hate that you don’t care that I’m proud of you
I hate that he loves you the way I do
I hate your good looks and reading new books
I’m gonna spin out
I think I’m gonna spin out
I hate my mind I hate my life
I hate ever not being by your side
I hate the way you think of me
I hate my walk and I hate my talk
I hate everything I ever do
God I hate being in love with you
I’m gonna spin out
I think I’m gonna spin out
I hate the mountains and I hate the trees
I hate doing things that make good memories
I hate the amber specs inside your iris’
I hate my lovers, every-one
I hate the *** and all the rest
I hate everything I ever do
God I hate being in love with you
I’m gonna spin out
I think I’m gonna spin out.”
Jun 2019 · 14.1k
Chasing Cleopatra
Tyler Jun 2019
Back when I was young my father told me:
That I’d grow up, and I would be lonely,
But not to go, chasing Cleopatra,
Or else I’d die just another bachelor.

He said;

“Oh those pretty girls, there are so many,
Just look around you and, you’ll find plenty;
When you’re hurt and broken by a lover,
Amen, don’t worry, just find another.”

I said;

“Daddy, what if none of them love me back?
What if I’m alone, when the sky turns black?
What If all I am, ain’t what I could be?
It’s hard to find wisdom, but not misery”

He said;

“Son don’t stress, there’ll always be someone
Looking just for you. You: their only one.
And don’t ever worry about heartbreak,
The road to love; it is made of mistakes.

So, count your fingers and count your blessings,
Invite Cleopatra to your wedding.
Never love ‘til you don’t have to chase it,
But when you do, don’t you ever waste it.”
Jun 2019 · 655
Tyler Jun 2019
Sally why don’t you throw on that green dress?
The one hanging behind your closet doors,
The one that would always make me a mess,
The one that always makes me wish I’m yours.
Sally you should really go get some sleep.
I won’t recognize you next time we meet,
Every time I see you, I hear you weep;
I almost wish you didn’t taste so sweet.
Sally you don’t have to go run away,
I don’t know why you’ve gotta worry me,
Write me when you find somewhere dry to stay.
I’d like to find out what you want to be.
Sally just try to keep me in the know,
I would follow you anywhere you go.
Jun 2019 · 85
Tyler Jun 2019
Eyes so icy; like the heart of her mother,
Burning the air; and matched by another’s,
But that’s fine,
The feelings divine,
I like how it hurts once in a while.

A smile and a few words could melt me down,
Just a puddle for her to walk through on the ground;
And that’s alright,
She’s such a sight,
I can ignore all the lies.

Throw away the makeup and perfume,
And she can still steal any room.
She’s perfect,
I’m an addict,
I get my fix some of the time.

Idyllic dreams of untold Rome’s and Paris’
Caught in the constellations of slashed wrists;
She’s shattered.
I’m enamored.
This girl with be the death of me.
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