It seems most poets are inspired by nature
I'm mostly inspired by the nature of me
It is commonly sadness and anger
that fuel my poetry

Tried to rest my poet brain
Laid on a pillow, and let it drain
Drain it did, oozed out my ears
ran down my legs and disappeared
Now my head is filled with air
Not a single original thought dwells there
I have not one vivid revelation to share
And quite frankly, I don't care

I don't want to be backup
I am not a late night snack
Something you nibble on to soothe yourself when the walls collapse

I don't want to be a pipe dream
Just a childish fantasy
Something you keep in your back pocket, that's already history

I don't want to be either of those things
Yet I am both, my dear
Milk and cookies after midnight
and crumbs that magically disappear

Not only do scars remind me of what I've done
They also remind me of what I've become
With age came the wisdom to put the knives down
At least while I'm drunk and running around
Nowadays my scars collect on the inside
Solid tissue grows where my heart once thrived
The doctors are shocked I'm still alive
Quite frankly so am I

This is it
I feel the vibe
This poem's going to stay alive

I got it now
I feel the flow
This poem's going to learn to grow

It's all okay
I feel revived
This poem's going to learn to thrive

It's too late now
I feel it slow
Back to hidden it will go...

Ever closer your cooties approach my fabric, multiplying like maggots.

Can I even muster the courage
to peek under the sheets?

Nope.

Too afraid of what I'll see...
Perhaps a mushroom shaped like me?

Nowadays your dead skin cells are my pillow.

Funny.

You're warmer dead than alive,
and your cooties still thrive.

Ever wonder who's on the other end of these poems
Are they really human? Possibly clones?
Maybe a bunch of chimps in a dank room typing away
And after months of randomness, they conjure something clever to say
Some people are probably just busy, others insecure
That's one weakness every poet can relate to, I'm sure
But for a bunch of lonely souls, just longing to feel connected
It's amazing how many times I've reached out, only to be rejected
This place, this space, some people just seem so hollow
And you wonder to yourself,
do I even want to be followed?

Can't choose your family
That's what they say
But I'm supposed to love them anyway
They're supposed to love me, but just not as much
I'm the blonde sheep, the total ***** up
It's been years since I picked up a needle or straw
But it's true I'm still human, and loaded with flaws
Sorry I can't hide my contempt as well as you
I'm sorry you ever had to learn how to
So let's get on with the ceremony Have your little parade
Might see you again
at the next family charade

You do nothing but lie
While I do nothing but play
And we keep going around and round
wasting precious days

So you start being faithful
Hell, I'll be foolish too
And we can lie to the other's face
until we both turn blue

Sure we both know this is going nowhere
But does that mean we have to get there fast
Can't we both enjoy this nightmare
And do our best to make it last

You say we're going nowhere
I say then please drive slow
If we get lost I really don't care
We both have nowhere else to go

Towards the cliff
we are running
You can come
cuz I say so

I wonder if
the view is stunning
If we jump
we'll catch the show

Your words are drenched with liquid gold
Each sentence carved, a story told

What a gift to briefly escape my head
And nosedive into yours instead

You're a clever mind without a face
And the only stranger I can't replace