wondering hopelessly
through an unknown place
of tragedy and despair

I cried
and begged
and screamed for help
but nobody was there

the tides
were persistent
and kept
dragging me down

I had fought
for so long
I was tired
and wanting to drown

the end
of the tunnel appeared
a black hole

the future
which was once
so bright
now seems so dull

as I was trudging
along I saw
a bright light

I started to follow it
and watched it
take fight

this light was
higher than me
and out
of my grasp

but it lowered
itself without
me having
to ask

it led me to
a place I did not know

a place where
it seemed
everything had
a perfect glow

the longer the
light stayed
the more faint
it became

I began to fear
that after
meeting me the light
would never be
the same

I took
and took as it
gave and
gave

Now I didn't think
I was the one
who need to
be saved

the light had already
shown me the way
but had become lost
on it's own path

the thought that I
had killed such
a beautiful thing caused
me such
internal wrath

I destroy
what I touch
and I blind
what I see

I wish there
was another person
I could call
me

The things
I have done
For you
Cannot be counted
On two hands

And neither
Can the times
You have let me down

The times I have
Forgiven you
Cannot be counted
With the hairs
On my head

And neither
Can the times
You didn’t deserve
My forgiveness

The times I have
Seen goodness
In your eyes
Cannot be counted
With the freckles
On my skin

And neither
Can the times
You took my
Second chances
For granted

The times I have
Wanted to say goodbye
Can be counted
On one hand

And the times
I actually will
Can be counted on

One finger

They always
Tell you that
What doesn’t **** you
Will make you stronger

But some days
My only wish
Is that what kills me
Would **** me

Fingers and bodies
Intertwined
A mess that
Did not need cleaning

Heavy breaths
And tired eyes
Purple necks that
Did not need healing

Embellished sighs
And bitten tongues
Contaminated screams
Reeking of regret

Crawling anguish follows
Wild goodbyes
Empty nights that
Beg for sustenance

Missed calls
And unheard pleads
Dead flowers and
Torn up words

Foreign flesh accompanies
usual thought
An unfamiliar face absorbed
With tight eyes

Taking steps
Forward
With a detached
Head

Fingers and bodies
Intertwined
A mess that
Could not be cleansed

Is this what it's like to be a poet?
To taste every goodbye, to feel every moment?
To feel every detail, to see every flaw?
To kiss every star as the night starts to fall
To fall in love with the way the sunsets
To dream of the birds from dusk to dawn

Is this what it's like to be a painter?
To find it captivating the way the earth moves
Mesmerized by your very own torment
Never caring if anyone else approves
Ingenious, stamped across your forehead

Is this what it's like to be an artist?
To find beauty in the pain that transcends
From the demonized garden growing within?
To find something alluring in the way
*People walk away