I’m living in a coward’s world
Dying from a dream I cannot reach.
Too weak to strive to be
I slowly fall into the web
Of tangled truths and usurped eyes
Trying to break the wall
That I built too young
Unable to find my will.
Dead Dreams IIAn emptiness that eats
Nothing is left for the fruitfulness of our bonds
Together we hold still
But apart we break into shattered pieces of our pasts.
Why is an onslaught of misdemeanored causes.
No one's will is enough to wretch us free
Forsaken and tainted we stand
Our fingers interlocked in a dance of subtlety
Dead Dreams ITick tick tick goes the bomb
Dead dead dead goes its inhabitants.
Bye to our lives
Hello to our ends
Wishful thoughts mean more than air
But our breaths cannot grasp our needs
Forever fallen here we land in our falls.
Death of My RitualPray, just pray a day once more
The faith of our father's will keep us dear.
A silence of love shall dream anew
As the pilgrimage of children laugh till dawn.
The words are meaningless if the letter is old
For the need of the ancients have come to pass.
Come of AgeThe dance of the abdominals ends in tragedy
As leaves of the foliage come to pass.
Come the end of constellations undone
And still see you not.
The mentions of entries are here to stay.
If only our hearts could be swayed that way.
Feet of fallen create the pyre
As the ashes of tears hold those truths.
My Weak TruthI can't save you
All of you out there
Can't become the chosen
Not even if I cared.
My faults may bury me
My fears bring on my death
And my heart threatens to pause
In a swift suicide
As my mind wraps itself in a twist.
The paper in my pocket
Stalling the truth that shall come.
The sleepless come welcomed
And the dawning forgotten
for shadows are remembered
And the light turned off.
I can't bring myself to care anymore
It keeps tearing me apart.
Lost SelfHere comes my memory
I lost it long ago
Locked within the raindrops
bleeding from the sky.
Broken came the pieces
dropped without regret
Screaming for the recognition
of the greedy blind.
Falling toward the center
shaping what can be
only to ignore it all
As the freedom fails to ring
inside my lifeless heart.
I Tell You NotPlace me in a corner
and leave me here to die
My suicidal trivia
has succumbed into my mind.
Unlike your washy process
I always get it right
Following through this nightmare
of justice served real cold
a wonderland of echoes
of a land forever grand
with an outdated legend
Bringing forth the lies.
cuz if I were to tell you
the truth of which I know
Then I'd have to kill you
So they can still ignore me
Upon this empty corner
of which I make my home.
Letter To Myself As YouHi…How Are You?
I'm…well I don't exist.
So I guess that means
I can't really say I'm fine.
It I did, I'm sure I would be.
Fine that is. Then again
Considering that I don't exist
Yet I'm here "talking" to you
Means I'm a figment of your
Imagination. That is…well that
Means…that you are indeed
Insane. I'm sorry, it must
Be hard for you to understand.
I'm sure if you check your pocket
You'll find that slip of paper I gave
You. You know which one.
The one to remind you that you are sane
While you're insane. Check I assure you
It's there. I lie not. You found it
Didn't you. Heh I knew you would.
After all your mind is gone. How
Else would I be able to place
That scrap of paper in your pocket?
I'm bored now. I find your lack of
A clear mind bothersome. Your denial
Suffocates me. After all you fell
Into society's open arms. What did
You expect to have happen to you?
To go there is to say farewell
to yourself. The you in your mind.
The one you who holds the door
And knows when to sc
Slumbering DoorwaysI do not think I shall find sleep tonight
It does not call upon my door this night
Not a single knock or turn of the knob
Of this sleep, I was surely robbed.
Begainst the malice of this deed
Just a single night's sleep is what I need
Yet mocked I am again this night
To forfeit my sleep untingled without fright.
My eyelids unweighed, too shallow to sink
For they continue to gaze unable to blink
Forever in my slumber shall be forgotten
As I lay in my bed unsettled & darkened
Listening to the whispers that call in my wake
I settle in this darkness of which I forsake
My lust for this dream of which cannot be
The day that the door comes knocking for me.
five things they don't teach you in highschool1.
it's okay to fall in love.
i mean, they tell you you're never going
to marry your high school sweetheart and i'm not going
to tell you it's a lie
because it's not. you guys will probably
break up and is gonna hurt like hell
but you'll be okay. remember, you are not the only one
who has felt loneliness like a knife,
the only one to know the pain of lungs collapsing
because they were your air,
and you will never be the only one who whispered
"i love you" two lives too soon.
you will not be the last one to have tucked
hair behind their ear and leaned in for a kiss
or the last one to wake up reaching for a hand that's no longer there.
but it's okay.
your favorite book will not always be your favorite.
like you, it will change over time
to something unrecognizable
that gives you only a vague nostalgia in the tips of your fingers.
flipping through the pages will never
feel the same again.
you will learn to love something new;
your next favorite will teach you something about you
Yes, I Have a PenisYes, I Have A Penis
Do not assume (if I hold the door for you),
that I am making a statement
about your inabilities
to open the door for yourself.
If you hold it for me,
I'll say 'thankyou'.
Do not assume (if I pay for the meal),
that I am underestimating
your earning capacity
as a woman.
If you invite me out for a meal,
Do not assume (if I defend your rights),
that I am belittling
the attempts that you have made
to defend your rights yourself.
If you defend my rights,
I'll consider you human.
Insanity needs companyand now I’m stuck here,
how the walls became
a veiny sight-
(could the cause be me calling out
in the middle of the night?)
and alone I stand here,
how my feet got
nailed upon this floor-
(do you hold my ankles
like an anchor
does the shore?)
and I know it’s been thirteen years
since you were here at all,
according to the hash marks
drawn in chalk
upon the wall,
but I can’t
of our memories,
so for now,
I’ll let the doc declare:
Insanity needs company.
how to maybe fall in love1.
you don't. at least,
not at first, not for you; you sit
in the back of the room and kind
of admire the way
their laugh shakes
their shoulders back and forth,
rhythmic mimicry found unrhyming, unrehearsed.
it's refreshing, you think.
and slowly maybe you realize that hey, they
aren't too bad looking and hey, you
kind of like the way their eyes
dart away if you catch them looking at you,
you feel your heartbeat for the first
time in years.
you think you might like them.
kind of. maybe. you really don't know, but you
like to think you do
(because if you wish hard enough
some fairy godmother you know
doesn't exist might help this existential crisis going
on that consists of holy hell how do i DO this-).
but you like to think you know what you're doing.
and so you go on a
date, then two, then three, and you find
you really like that they hold your
smile in their eyes and hey, maybe
holding hands isn't like being trapped like you thought.
you learn everything ane
Brown Eyes Compliments, and AnalogiesBecause I'm sick of people saying there aren't any.
Your brown eyes are like the deep intoxication of campaign wine, bubbling with hazing richness and expensive taste.
Your brown eyes are like the color of mahogany wood- comforting and home-steady toughness that lets me know you will be the beams of supporting me.
Your eyes remind me of Dove chocolate, smooth, creamy, delectable, and melting.
The color of brown eyes remind me of mountain terrain and nature, something subtle, but beautiful in every form and season.
Brown eyes make me think of Devil's cake, taunting and tempting, curtained by black lashes, the symbol of rich seduction.
When brown eyes delve in love, they become the color of a leather book, promising a story of loyalty, long-life, and devotion.
Your brown eyes remind me of mysterious secrets, dark to cover the pain of ignorance, opaque to cover to want of another.
Brown eyes are like the stable ground, steadier and prepared to embrace you when you fall, into a nurturing a
Stars and Cigarettesi.
We stand apart
and cross our hearts
and swear to never tell
the secrets that
stars and cigarettes
We fly like gods
across the skies,
and shooting stars.
To leave the Earth behind,
our celestial home,
would be a journey
that dreams are made of.
To fly with the moon
and far beyond
is better known
by man or beast
than our own home.
Drug store loose change,
quarters on the counter.
tell a warning,
cooling in the air.
Snakes of the mind
undulate and restrict
in ways we cannot define.
When you fight
the thing that kills you
before you die
it's like seeing the future.
Save someone else
to suffer your own fate.
All the lovely dancing girls
smile for the camera.
Faith is numbered
beyond the stars
in violin strokes
and ways we say our prayers.
The churches that we follow
may be in buildings
or inside our hearts,
so long as they bring us solace
and wisdom to relate.
the last star
we see tonight
is only the first
speck of ligh
ProhibitionThe working men who drank for years
To liquidate their fears
Just a couple creamy beers.
Seldom exceeding that number
The beers lured them into slumber.
Living in this time
When society saw it fine
To enjoy such beer and wine.
But whiskey was not the same
It was the devil’s wicked game.
As it poisoned the best of men
It shall never cast it’s spell again!
They were wet, but voted dry
Against the bourbon and the rye
Never expecting the beer to die.
Unknowing of the petition
Endorsing absolute prohibition
That would outlaw their addiction.
With the banishment of whiskey
It was more pricey and more risky
As people stabbed and robbed to loot
The sole forbidden fruit.
No more rum, no more champagne
To entice the tired brain
As the people woefully dread
When prohibition further spread
Implemented to stop the jailing and crime
That increased tenfold with time.
Rather than ending prohibition
Up came another mission
To point the finger to the drugs
Associated with the murderous thugs
Rhyming in PoemsWhy do you all want to rhyme
all the time?
You don't need to do it,
that's perfectly fine.
You think it's so cool
And it leaves poems gleaming,
But it desecrates flow
And can ruin the meaning.
It's so bad to rhythm,
It's like a bad day
You wonder why you're not
Sleeping it away.
You think it's the root
Of your writing's salvation,
But we all will hate you,
All parts of the nation.
You think it sounds nice
But you don't even know
How ruined the sound is
How badly it 'goes'.
So the irony's over,
Your poems can mend,
I'll stop myself here,
Before you meet
How to love a girl who can't love herself.one.
When she cries herself to sleep
six out of seven nights a week you must
say nothing. You must simply take
her in your arms and kiss her gaunt,
pale cheeks and wait for her to
slumber at the sound of your heart.
On the days where she wishes she
were part of the stars, tell her
no. Tell her that there are too many
lights in the sky and that just one
would be forgotten the moment you looked
away from it. Tell her that she is perfect
the way she is: completely human.
Don't let her think about the scars
that no one but her can see. If she
says "I think I'm broken" smile like you
know a secret and say, "No, you're mending."
But do not be the one to fix her - no, she