I wish
I was good enough
for myself

Sorry
I can't cry
unless
there's music playing
that will
make me reach inside myself
dig out the cluster ****
of suppressed nonsense
and spill it out

I opened the bottom drawer
of her bedside table
to look for a lense cleaner
when I found
she had taped
the poems I ripped
back together

my God
this tree
it fascinates me
it is alive I know it
it whispers when I pass
and bows in recognition
proud and hovering over the drive
like a gargoyle over the city
always there
always watching
a reminder that there are ghosts
that shadow us
that wait for us to notice them

and now the tree is gone
toppled onto the road
and removed
like an old soldier
that served well
but just fades away
all but forgotten

now I am gone
after 11 years of watching over this property
brothers of the night
we were
it has taken a piece of me to it's grave

I remember laying in the grass
Adolescents way to drunk and high
We were out with friends
They were sitting under a bridge nearby
Looking up into the night sky
I turned around and kissed her
She kissed me back and turned around
3 minutes of silence passed and
She said "ive never wanted to kiss someone so much but without wanting ***, ive never wanted to talk to someone but without the words, ive never wanted to be around somebody just to be around him, do you think that's love?"
I looked at her and said if it is love i love you more than anything
My heart was beating so fast
She said "i love you too more than anything"
Ive never felt better
So much brighter on the inside than with any drug ive felt before
And i knew from the moment she kissed me my depression was gone
This was the most beautiful moment of my life
Sitting there with my first real love
With the people i love
In the darkness i love
Under the bridge i learned to love
Smoking the **** i love
Drinking the alcohol i love to hate
But eventually friends turned on me
The bridge got demolished
And she left
All that was left was the darkness of that night, the **** and, the alcohol
I wrote over 300 poems that year
Writing stuff of my young sorry soul
The poems helped me mentally
And the drugs helped me write them
Thats how i became an addict
Now people look at me and tell me im an addict
But im only addicted to her love, these friends, this place, this night
And that's what people dont understand
Im addicted to leaving this world
Leaving this pain behind just a few hours
There's a story behind every addiction
If you speak to an addict in your life
Speak honestly and dont judge them
You'll learn something
You'll learn that this world is a sad little place
And every sad little addict has a sad little heart
Dont judge people you dont feel what they feel

This is about me—
I’m going to make it that way
because, unfortunately,
that’s all I know.

These days
focusing on the positive
in every situation
does not happen with me.

It’s waking up to open the curtains
and realizing there was
no sun to begin with—
you have only ever seen
that dark sky
and the stars.

Something must be wrong with me
and that’s all I know.

There is no energy to
dig deeper
within myself or
within the depths of
knowledge, vast in the growing
planet we call home.

There is a vastness of people
I can’t seem to love,
to understand,
or to even hate.
But why?
Why do I have to harbor these feelings?
Why do I have to accept them?

I have a choice, right?
Right?

Why do we listen to sad music
to make us sadder?
Are we so drained and empty
that we cannot shed those tears
unless those lyrics,
those harmonies,
those sounds,
kick us in the heart?

Why aren’t I special?
What did I do wrong?
Why am I so tired?
Where did all my energy go?
Where did I go?

I am sorry to those I have failed,
to those I have angered,
to those I have saddened
and confused.
I don’t want you to worry about me,
but these days I can’t seem
to control my emotions.

I can’t articulate anything.
I can’t tell you what I’m feeling,
I can’t tell you what I’m seeing,
or what I’m hearing
because I don’t know
how to explain it.

How do I tell you that I hate
and admire you simultaneously?
How do I tell you I’m proud of you
but also jealous of your success?
How do I tell you I hate myself?
How do I tell you I’m fine
but have depression?
How do I tell you I’m confident
but also anxious?
How do I give you all my trust
only to shield it from you?
How do I tell you I’m paranoid?

How do I tell you
I don't feel
real anymore?

It's strange--
When I think of darkness
as a sentient cloak
with kisses soft as fluff
and voice hushed like wind,
with an understanding attitude
willing to use its body as
a fortress to protect me
from the cruelty of the outside
   I see the light as something negative
   I forget the Sun is trying His best
   I forget He does not mean
   to shed light on unfortunate things
   He's just trying to guide me
   to warm me
   so that I may start again
   hands out and ready
   to push myself up after I fall
   though His rays of light
   may sting my eyes
   I adjust
   and keep going