Emotion provokes me,
Passion demotivates me,
And love desensitizes me.
But today, I let myself break down.
I let the tears break free from their restraints, and flow freely, and they ran
Down my cheeks, fast and urgent, like they desperately needed to meet my chin for the first time.
And I realize how fragile it is, how fragile I am, how sad life really is.
I feel
Real.
And this isn't something I've felt in a while.
Why is it that the thought of losing something so precious to me, makes me feel alive?
Why is it that I believe I need you, now?
The words keep running out my mouth, as I spatter these thoughts out loud, as my tears follow in unison.
Flowing,
Like energy,
Like the blood in my feeble veins,
Like the students passing through halls,
Like cars on the freeway,
Like life.
I am flowing, pushing effortlessly through some invisible current that I have been fighting against my whole life.
My tears, however, have reminded me that I am still moving.
No matter how much I have tried to halt, no matter how many times I have attempted to stop,
My tears have reminded me.
I am flowing,
I am breaking against my restraints, and meeting life face on for the first time in my life.
My anxiety has clouded me from reality for too long.
So thank you, Sadness,
If that is your name.
You saved me from going insane, tonight.

Of a Ministry pitiful, angry, mean,
A gallant commander the victim is seen.
For promptitude, vigour, success, does he stand
Condemn'd to receive a severe reprimand!
To his foes I could wish a resemblance in fate:
That they, too, may suffer themselves, soon or late,
The injustice they warrent. But vain is my spite
They cannot so suffer who never do right.

The coffee you gave me was expensive,
I know because it came in a cardboard cup.
Only the from the best coffee shops
Do you get such luxurious containers to hold your beverage.
In a working man's cafe you get a china mug.
No cardboard cups here. They wash them themselves you know.
No trees were injured when making their coffee.
It's not good enough, it's too cheap.
No. Coffee must cost the earth to warrent cardboard cups.
Thank you for paying so much for my coffee.

vicodin is a long term friend
with a warrent for my liver
and my life.

1:43am
we had an appointment
and god only knows
i could never be late for such
a chalky sense of closure.

and the young paramedic
who burst my vein and scolded me
could only pray his words
meant more than the hum of streetlights
as my body exchanged existence
for the embodiment of thought
and a brittle concept of my phrenic nerve

which was never more at peace than when
my lungs remembered the luxury
of standstill traffic

of weighted morals

of crushing insecurity's release
and the resulted ballooning
as squashed egos cry, and the garage door screams as it's yanked open

horrid sounds and tortured motion on both accounts

spiritual cataracts torn free
commercialized visions now blur

as the orange bottle morphs from
vicodin to paracetamol

equalized views in my bloodstream
as the sheet metal ceiling shifts to plaster tiles

to a TV set

to a bathroom mirror

to an agonized woman next door

to the back windows where my mother cries where no one but the whole world can watch

to a blue plastic mattress and a first floor window covered with bars

to a pale green day room with a caged TV
where there was bleach in the stomach of a nine year old

where the dying took their resurrecting breath between games of spoons

where the hinges screamed and blood pressure was taken three times a day

this where the living came to kiss death goodbye

until next time

Inconceivably impossible
But yet here it is.
Here I am.
An anomaly trying
To mainstream
It's way through life
While some sense in me
Finds no such sense in you
Sometimes I am that tadpole
Weaving it's way
through the current
Sometimes that kingfisher
In amongst termites
Did you know that
Theres a warrent out
For your arrest
They say that you're
The very best
At what you do
And yeh you do be good
At getting me to love you
**** you I do.
I do love you.

Everything brings us
     To the moment

We're meant to be at.

For better or worse,

      Life is chaos.

And our actions have
     Consequences that

Warrent infinite possibilities.

A ripple,
                that we
      Have no control over.

Just because
You are still my muse
Just because
My heart soul and intuition
Still wronglyfuly choose you
Doesnt mean
You get any more time
Than what is needed
To express myself
Through my arts
And certainly doesn't
Warrent your false beliefs
That I stalk you
When I don't
Have you ever been stalked?
Because I have
And writing poems
Without using your name
Anonymously
On some site somewhere
Singing songs
On my instagram
Writing tweets
About my journey
All with you unnamed
To express my
Unrequited love through art
Doesnt fit the bill
Of a stalker
Honey