im struggling and still saying
its alright to depend on these words
even if dependence is no form of freedom
and former independence doesn't like to
be called out by his first name so he
writes like a ghost and ghosts his friends
like they're lost in the woods and looking
for him or at least his corpse
i guess that depends on how far his willpower
is willing to bend before becoming a coward
too afraid to respond it's all choked up
nothing in his (my) throat but smoke and
he (i) choke on the ash and fall on my (his) ***
trying to grab the rock to hold onto but it
crumbles in my (his) hand and he falls
to the echoes of my friends' calls
into the darkness and the darkness transforms
he and i into i and he
a split sewn together and fraying again
he isn't me but i can't help but
be him when i want to be me
so i turn back to words on
pages that bring some semblance
of comfort and a voice
to the chaos in his head
and taste the vitriol in my mouth
before spitting it back out
because it may be filling but
it has no sustenance beyond
what a fog can offer instead
so i step into the morning fog
away from him who
i've come to hate and love as much
as i hate him
so that maybe someday soon
i will love him more than i hate him
but until then it's cold this morning
and i hear my friends in the woods

It means not putting her down when she hurts you
It means listening to her words rather than hearing her voice
It means telling her she's hot when she thinks she's not
It means holding her when she cries, and letting her hold you when you cry
It means accepting you're not perfect but still doing your best
It means doing the right thing when it's not easy
It means having endurance on the days you want to quit
It means learning to be a good husband and father
It means hugging her when she's doing the dishes, telling her to rest on the couch, and doing them yourself
It means putting your family first no matter what
It means loving her through your actions not your words

That's the man I want to be.

Screaming until I bleed,
Screaming until I lose hearing.

Bleeding until I die,
Bleeding until I stop this pain.

Dying so I won't hurt,
Dying didn't solve the problem.

Sometimes even the truth lies to me
But it's only because I lie to the truth
I have to keep it all balanced in place
And you'll never know it, seeing my face

My lies aren't an onion
Layered one after another
The truth buried in the center
That's too easy; I'm complex

My lies are like a Rubik's cube
But even better than that
Because even if you solve one
It's not the whole story I've spun

I've left many cubes over many places
It's impossible for you to chain them all
And figure out all of my precious lies
The reason I'm so good at lying?

Because I always tell the truth.

This aching in the heart really he no cure... I guess I'm always going to be alone no matter how much I try not to be.
It's something broken in my soul, and that's something nobody can ever cure...

Spinning a web, spinning a story
Spinning a plate, spinning a yarn
Spinning a lie, spinning a tale
Spinning out of control, and loving it.

"Where do you see yourself in ten years?"

That question took me off my very well reinforced guard.
My palms start feeling a little bit sweaty.
I hope they don't notice me starting to breathe faster.

Ten years?
I see myself being totally alone,
Maybe even dead, honestly.
I have that faulty heart.
I think it's getting worse...

Ten years?
I can't see myself past tomorrow,
Worthless as I am.
Ten years is incomprehensible to me.
Literally, I can't comprehend it!

"In ten years, I hope to have made myself a better man. To be someone admired and respected, with a deeper understanding of morals and values."

I lied through my teeth...
I'm such a wreck.

You swallow up the light around you
And your shadows cover all beneath
The darkness within consumed your heart

But I fear you not
I see the beauty in your eyes
And I have no light you can steal

You are my Black Pearl
My secret and sacred treasure
I will always protect you
In the shadows of my wings

Dancing a dangerous tango,
Every step perfectly aligned,
A dance of give and take,
Both in want of one another.

Bodies close, but not too close,
Enough to create goosebumps,
And make fine hairs stand on end.

Like balancing a ball of fire in the heart,
Keeping it from rolling into one lung or the other.
Your eyes dance with mine,
Even more dangerous than our waltz.

We both know what we want,
But neither is giving an inch.
No quarter need be given,
If we mutually surrendered,
To love.

Welcome to America
Land of the Mirage

You probably thought we were free over here
Had all of our liberties and rights
But we're tied down and *****
Without ever fighting a fight
Corruption is rife
Hypocrisy is rife
Freedom is oppressed
Liberties are exchanged
For false security
And you'd better fall in line
Keep your mouth shut
If you really want to
Keep your life

One red ball amidst all the silver *****,
A matte finish amidst all the metallic shimmerings,
One that is entirely and unmistakably different,
A unique and individual thing in a throng of unity.

One red cube in the midst of all the blue cubes,
Totally different than all of it's monotonous neighbors,
One who has no fitting in the lineup of sameness,
The red cube is wholly and entirely it's own master.

The red ball is someone who loves when nobody loves,
The red cube is someone who lives when nobody lives,
Are you going to be someone who loves?
Are you going to be someone who lives?

why do i identify with addiction and addicts when my only addiction is to sadness
an unwritten paper attracted to matches like iron to a magnet there is comfort in madness but comfort i cant manage
so i rip a page from the good book and ingest it hoping to live out gods commandments like doing good for the sake of good while i burn the world behind me
the straight and narrow is an uphill climb so i check my elevation only to find rock bottom has a basement
god is with the lowly and contrite so i guess self abuse is my form of abasement
but i can never hurt myself enough so i hurt the ones i love so i can gain pain by the process of osmosis
'cept god works his law in measure for measure so this living hell is just a double portion
wisdom chased me so i broke her legs because im scared love truly is the answer

I think I've lost my touch, my flair for poetry. Most of my recent writes I've not been happy with, so I'm going to take a break from it. I'll still be on here from time to time, but if you want to keep in touch more, message me and I'll give my kik info. :)

God bless!

I am a vulture.
I'll tear your bloated remains apart with my beak.

I am a raven.
I'll pick you apart when you are tossed away.

I am a piranha.
I'll devour you to the bone in under a minute.

I am a jackal.
I'm crafty and sneaky and I steal the lion's ****.

I am the face in the mirror.
I'll always keep you from being your best.

So this is what it feels like.
It's been so long that I'd forgotten.
Like a thirsty man in the desert
Or a starving man with a steak
Or a sinner remembering grace.

I have travelled the roads of it
Through the highest mountains
Through the lowest plains
Through the deepest caves
Over the widest rivers
Beyond the largest ocean.

It meets me in the morning like the dew on the grass or mist from a waterfall.
And stays with me until after sunset, like a kiss goodnight or the chirping of the crickets.

Even my dreams and daydreams cannot withhold what I'm containing within.
Surely it will spill out and shine brighter than a thousand noontime suns.

I'm in love again.

I have this amazing ability
To smile through the pain
And laugh through the torture
While my heart is carved like turkey

You never know when I'm dying inside
Or when I'm standing on the edge
The thoughts I have seeing sharp objects
You'd think I was the happiest guy alive

Everyone says how good I am
How much I help them up
Nobody sees the pain I cause
Or the damage I inflict

Under a tree with pen and paper
Thoughts immersed in writing prose
World around her turns to silken vapor
A masterful performance will she compose

Words are her instruments
Ink is her conductor's baton
Graceful art from her fingers
Spill onto the ****** paper

Her mind charges in the tranquility of her surroundings
The peace of the locale soothes her imagination
Focus and clarity like a mountain stream
Refreshment like a volcanic spring

Come and see what she has writ
Queen of poems beauty she emits
Lift her onto your shoulders high
Sing her anthems and crack the sky

Do masks hide us from others?
Or ourselves?
Why do we try for perfection?
Why not honesty?

A masquerade party,
With charades all 'round,
Deception, lies, arrogance,
Bequeath underlying rot.

Born of falsehood and judgement,
Be better than the person on your left,
Whoever dies with the most toys wins,
Don't you dare take off your mask.

I care too much
I suffocate people
I have so much family
I never let them close

Even with so many people
Surrounding my heart
Its stone walls are a mile high
Its stone walls are a mile thick

All the kings horses
All the kings men
Couldn't break this wall
With all the might they had

I'm an angel and a devil, living with regret.
Choosing compassion, sympathy, and care
To go with my lies, ulterior motives, and ***.
The influence of promiscuity
Gives my conscious visual acuity.
Not in the black and not in the red
Yet my morality is seriously dead.

But there's still a light in me
Burning ever brightly
Deep within the walls I've built.
It's going to take a tornado
An earthquake maybe a hurricane, too
To crash through the cell I'm in
But I want to live again.
So let it come.

A sickly mind,
Embraces a broken past,
Trying to hide,
Her prickly thorns,
Clinging to her.

Sprinting forth,
To uneven roads,
Running from wolves,
Gobbling at her long hair,
Feet carry her far away.

Tattered cloth hangs,
From empty tree branches,
Marking the journey she took,
From her sickly mind,
To her broken past.

Will someone help her?

These drafts I have about you
I can't finish them
I've tried for months
But the pain is too much

How could my family hurt me this bad?
How could we hurt each other so bad?
I have only one line written on each of you
I can't bear to write to the end

PTSD and so many fights
Cheating wife and lying husband
Father smokes like a chimney
Mother drinks like a shower drain

Brothers joined the armed forces
But I'm too disabled to join
I'm a great shot and can take a bullet
What more do they want?

So I'll be the black sheep
The outcast and pariah
I'll rise above you all
But I'll never forget you

It's not the crackle of the flames,
Or the smell of sulfur,
Or the heat of fire,
That makes us stand in awe.

It's the total consuming aspect,
The way it glitters in our hearts,
And leaves everything in ruin,
That makes us light it up.

Leaving charred remnants of things once valued,
Forcing them to become discarded as worthless and broken,
This equalizer, this fire, it is a balancing force of power,
To be respected and feared, yet also revered.

A little pink flower is laid down
Its pedals kissing the stone above
It's her grave, the woman he loved
The only woman he could ever love

If but death could be bargained with
He would trade a million souls for hers alone
How he holds her pillow to his chest every night
And watches their wedding video every day she's gone

And every year that passes him by
He leaves a little pink flower at her grave
And holds their precious daughter close
As they remember the woman who was their life

I know I'm in love because I can't stop crying, telling her how much she means to me.
Because she turns every tear to diamonds and every sob into joy.
Because she saw my demons and never recoiled.
Because I see her demons and I'm not recoiling.
Because we're equally broken, and okay with it.

Its the one flu that never goes away

More frequent than the common cold

More lethal than the black plague

More painful than third-degree burns

More devastating than tsunamis

More gut wrenching than death

More comfortable than sleep

its a point of forming
drops of water
carving
a channel
to this place i am
where i can see
beauty
in this broken shell
in the cracked
reflections
absent of color
and following
that water-cut channel
to the light above
well it may be past
my strength
but
maybe not

there's a chill
in the air
its cold
mid july
except inside
where heaters glow
by those who fear
frost's bite
gather round
this quiet town
humble
but cold
your hands will reach
but not quite reach
the edge on which
we all fall down

What monster are you?
I'm like a werewolf every full moon.
I'm the best type of person everyday.
Someone you can admire and compliment.
Polite, kind, humble...
But every now and then I transform
Into a beast I cannot control.

Howling at the moon
Yearning for blood
Seeking prey to consume.

So be aware, as well as cautious
Lest you become my next meal.

The beast within is baying for blood
The devil sings a sweet song to him
Dances on pawed feet, the beast does
Claws scratch the marbled floor

The devil whispers the deathly melody
Beast's mouth salivates in anticipation
Memories of flesh in between his teeth
His heart begins to beat faster

The demonic choir sings loudly
Echoes into the beast's ears
Fresh meat fills his nostrils
And the blood fills his mouth

When he comes out of his bloodlust
He is bathed in the life of his kills
Trickling into his eyes and ears
Their faces, their voices, haunting him...

I love being an insomniac
Because I get to see so much
That sleeping people never see
Meet people from across the world
See so many different perspectives
Perhaps not sleeping is a blessing

clouds are rolling in
from the west
leaving their shadows
in their wake
a darkness that
isn't dark
but only robs
my life of light
oh clouds go away soon
the sun has set
and none care to see
how monolithic
your judgements are
let the flowers grow again
and the animals are cold

Hiding who he is, he doesn't want shame
So he plays his part in the game
Dating the same girl for five years
She has no idea she's his beard

Yes, it's men he loves
Especially the straight ones
There's something they have
The gay half doesn't have

But he's alone right now
With the woman he "loves"
Laying in bed, wishing he was dead
Every time they have ***, he's misled

Some day, he might come clean
Tell the world he's really a queen
But until then, he'll just lie
Just like he lies next to her.

Opportunity missed,
Like a highway exit,
Went by so fast,
And my GPS is cussing me out.

It was like a blur,
I couldn't recognize,
What it really was,
Until it was far too late...

Opportunity missed,
Like the bases were loaded,
With only one out,
And I step up to the plate,
Hit into a double-play...

Opportunity missed,
Like she was giving me a,
Neon sign that said,
"I love you, I want you!"
Yet I walk right past her...

So I guess I'm trying to say,
Or, rather ask:
May I have another opportunity?

Poetry is like fishing:
You cast your thoughts,
Onto your inspiration,
And hopefully something,
Will bite.

We sell different parts of ourselves
Some of us sell bodies for cash
Some of us sell dignity for ambition
Some of us sell our soul for pleasure

Selling happiness for love
Selling love for happiness
You have your price set
Someday someone will buy

Everything has a cost
Everyone has something to sell
We're all ****** in the end
Married in our own hell