Love isn’t poetic, but we still try, we’re pathetic, so why do we cry,
We all learn by failing, that’s why we fail so hard.


Learning, and seeing, and breathing, it’s what we do,
And every one of us is leading, the pack through and through,

Every man for himself, Every daughter too,
Will keep going on, Will be reborn anew,

And really, I love you.

Do you ever wonder what will happen to the webs in life
If you start tearing down the walls.
Do you ever sit and stare at the happenings and wonder
What it’s all for.

Do you ever wonder why we dream,
When all we dream is seeing.
Do you ever sit and think,
If you stand for a whole lot more.

Well you see sometimes in the dead of night,
I start to see what it all stands for.

Every drop we add to life,
Shakes the pond in every way,
Everything we ever do,
Can change the light of day,

And every time you ever think,
About the way it all goes,
Your thoughts can do a whole lot more,
Than you may ever know,

Cause the spider may spin her web,
And you may not like the sign,
But if it’s really meant to be,
It will not be a lie,

Cause in the end we have walked our line,
Down the path we just believe,
And if you ever look so far back,
You may be able to see,

That your whole life is anything but,
It will never be nothing,
All choices you have ever made,
All mean one great thing.

I'm sorry if I'm not willing to just tell you that I think about ******* suicide every ******* day and I hate every ******* person in our school and I want to sleep through all of my class periods and that the other night I was on that road by the refinery going 75 in a 30 mph zone and I thought about just turning the car into a wall.

I'm sorry that I have to talk to 21 a year old clerk I barely know to regain my sanity and not break down and just run away to Idaho.

Jami is my golden thread, and my only thread. I am hanging on by a golden thread.

Three tons of weight just, dangling.


Help me by not helping me. Only one person can help me.

Nobody helped me when I was struggling with suicide years ago. I helped myself. That's who I am. A self helper. I need to be alone to become Marshall again.

To sleep and be okay is what I dream for
Longing no longer to wait out this storm
Merely content with the concept of existing
And let the world continue busy.

If I lived her life,
I'd **** myself,
Every ******* day.

I'd put a gun up to my head
And send lead through my own brain.

I wouldn't keep on living if I knew I was a liar,
I'd try to be pure,
I 'd push myself through fire.

And sure, I'm not pure,
But purer things desire,
That purer men seek purer still,
Unlike that ******* liar.

The world will keep spinning
If the population starts thinning.

Maybe she can be the beginning.
*Of the end.

Add a poem
Write a poem my eyes dilated
She wears that shirt and my thoughts expand
Beyond the fibers of her thread and green
I breathe.
Green and green and green again
This light is white for not much longer,
Green.

I'm not yellow, she is blue.
I don't drink purple
And our wavelengths are resonant.

This is nonsense to ask if you but her and she and they and them.
Not one
but all could solve
This riddle. But Christ I want
To be more plain. I feel you.
In my eyes my chest my hands my brain my past my present.
I hear your voice and that is not a skill I have.

Dr. Maj: I am satan !
Ghostly: Is that so
Ghostly: I guess you've received a lot of mail recently coming from all the dyslexic children writing to Santa.

It seems the little man with his hammer and chisel,
Has cracked the top of my skull,
Made a crack not so little,
And now my brain’s far too full,

Tick tick tick,
Ting ting ting,
He caused a split,
Heavy hitting,

This migraine is mine,
There’s not enough time,

Not enough,
        Time.

Destroyed by one text.

Seven minutes.
I guess that's what I spent outside today.
Seven minutes to smoke at a church
And violate it twice.
First with ***
Now with ash.

Ashes I shed
And how sad it has been
Alone.

I started doing new things
Maybe hoping that you would start caring.
Or maybe that they would **** me
And I could just stop beating.

Stop my heart. My loud heart.
Stop the hurt. The alone.

Stop beating
Stop beating

STOP BEATING
STOP BEATING.

breathe









I never really feel okay.
I'm not sure what I need,
But I'm pretty sure I'll never get it.
Seven minutes in heaven.
It's like there is no message.
I'll never get it.

Love,
Dismiss my words if it pleases you,
But when I say love, I do not lie,
You may think my repercussions untrue,
The teenage seat I sit on is not high,
    by any stretch of the imagination.

Beau,
I asked for leave to find myself, no other,
I drifted the truths and fallacies in my mind,
Everywhere I looked, I found your eyes of thunder,
I clipped my wings so could not fly,
    rather I dug myself underground.

Jami.
I retired my soul into the shape of a seed,
I’ve undone any impure thoughts, confessed,
Gone into stasis, awaiting my lead,
Demoralized, destroyed, beat back by the stress.
    I can wait. I will wait.

Frienemies with benefits
I suppose that's what we are,
It's really not that bizarre.
Kissers, and snugglers and touchers,
not lovers.
We might only go so far.

But if one or no soul asks me,
I am grateful for you,
     And I.
How we're something new.
We're
Sometimes just two in a room.
Sometimes something good ensues.
I'm grateful.

And does my heart beat for the thought of her,
Or is it the presence of her comfort,
That makes me feel like I am so **** sure
That she and I could be such great lovers.
Is it the fact that she can laugh so great
That I am sure the gods boom and smile too,
Or is it how she stealthily speaks weight
Through the actions she takes in telling truth.
She takes me on some sort of shocking flight
When I search for what I truly do feel,
She makes easy the fire and stops the fight,
She takes the tall monster and makes him kneel.

We are based on a foundation of trust,
Which tells me that this is not just some lust.

“Would you like some more Love, sir?”
“Yes please.”
Like water her words restore the flower’s hue to the best blue.

“The rose petals reminds me of your lips, Madam.-
    So, soft.”

*She blushed.

Some nights when I lay alone, awake,
I dream of you,
And my lungs emit an echo,
Like a dog missing his master,
I moan for you,
It’s like crying,
With no sound.
It’s like dying,
With no blood.

I crave the texture of your skin,
The color of your eyes,
    Even if I can't see them at night,
It’s enough to know you’re there.

But I long for you,
And I hear the sound of my blood-
        Beating.
Because the flesh in my chest is dragged in your compass,
And the blood in my body is dragged to your presence,
And the hands at my side are dragged to your essence.

I miss you.

I smile more.
I laugh heartily.
I kiss and love.
I don't obsess.
I don't harm.
I am fit.
Physically.
Mentally.
Emotionally.

I read.
I play.
I drive.
I am free.
I am Marshall.
And by God,
*This feels good.

Wake up.

Eyes jut open,
Laying on the hard wet sand of a beach,
Unbeautiful.

Gray.
Tan.
Cold.
The colors felt.

Change your ways.

Wake up warm.

I was seduced
And I seduced.
And I lost and she gained
And so I stole back something else.
*Assurance.

Decadence,
Indulgence,
Celebration,
Euphoria.

Desolation,
Emptin­ess,
Forsakenness,
Pain.

I wish you were there tonight,
To see me dancing,
Wish you were here tonight,
To let me see a new light in your eyes,
Wish you were there tonight,
To dance with me,
Wish you were here tonight,
To have you see me at this time in my life,


Wish I could tell you,
    You have the perfect skin and eyes,
Wish I could tell you,
    To be the apple of my eye,


Wish you could see tonight,
‘Cause I want you here to see the lights,
Wish you could see tonight,
‘Cause I want to take away your fright,


Can you hear my voice,
Listen,
Can you make a choice,
Breath,
In and out,
Take your time,
Move a little slower,
Spend with me just one night,
Let me see your eyes in new light.

-June 1st 2013

The rhythm of our rain is spastic,
Unexpect the worse,
Feel the drops on your eyes,
Feel their abstract drift down your face,
Palpable as the day we met,

Never see the next drop coming,
But always dry off for more.

One eye too far is what it takes to ruin,
A perfectly good lie.
The watermark holds secrets hidden,
Hold it to the fire.

Ahab was searching for a reason to live
Ahab was searching for his big win.

Ahab was searching and boy did he find
That finding is bad and now nothing is fine.

I still think it was a dream.
Convinced actually.

If it weren’t for the warm of her kiss,
Or the bumps on her belly,
And the shape of her face,
I’d still believe it was fake.

For days it seemed I stared,
And she let me.

I learned her, far better than ever before,
She is more.

She is both a dream and a reality,
An Angel and a human.

She exists,
You see.

Save yourself
Then come for me.

I'm a pacer.
It gets me places.
It gets me out of my head.

I walk
I turn
I walk some more,
And I calm down from what was said.

Ze said it's self soothing.
I say it's just anxiety.

I say it's torture because I have to choose,
Do I let my feet ache,
Or my head.

Like holding your breath under fourteen feet of water,
Coming up,
    Craving air,
        Calling for it,
            Swimming faster,
                Feeling the pain,
                    Then,
It’s yours.

A full lung of oxygen,
Body panting,
Treading so desperately,

But safe.
Finally safe.
Above the seemingly endless drift of space between the bottom and the top,

Smiling again.

-July 9th 2013

I can feel my heart beating,
I can feel it in my legs,
I can see my lungs breathing.

I know why I’m still alive,
I know why I’m still here,
I know why I bother to try.

I see the hidden lines,
I see the secrets they hold,
I know they are no lie.

*I know why I care for you.

Do I have to conquer this demon inside me?
Or can I let him flourish?

Do I have to restrict my god given right of self pleasure,
For the benefit of us both?

I want to let him roar, stroke his mane and feed him.

But his stomach will sit empty for now.

Cathartic dirt,
I lay.
Letting dust and bugs settle
On my skin.

Breathing damp musk,
Breathing particle air,
Skin cooled by old tile.

Embrace this darkness,
Embrace this entropy,
Give love to the chaos.

*I love it.

I could love you if we tried,
I really think I could,
But I think right now,
I don't really think we should.

I'm trying not to,
I'm trying to ignore the urge to say I love you,

Less and less of it every day,
But those memories won't go away.

I thank god that you showed up,
I'm glad I found you with my luck,
And I'm glad we loved each other for a week,
But I'd really rather just remember that ****,

That night, those days,
My heartbeat and yours
No regret.
None.
And society will call me a *****
And I will laugh and say
"I loved her."
"I really did."
And it will not be a fib.

Six hundred feet away
The PA system of the nearby school comes on

Ding **** ding
"Good afternoon students! Let's have a wonderful afternoon here at __ Academy!"

I wake up and look around and realize I'm okay.
I have no overwhelming desire to die or eat or cry or complain or to really do anything.

I'm happy.

Solitioner, Soliloquy, Silence.
Petitioner, "Papers please", Paint,
     Take your pick.
Get high, Get drunk,
But don't, That's ******.

Get in love, Make some babies,
Don't. That's *******.

Have fun.
Yeah.
Have fun.

I know you’ll find your way,
You’re strong,
Strongest woman I’ve ever met actually,
Gorgeous too,
Intelligent.

You can live without me,
And though months it may take,
I will live without you.

You couldn’t be the one, you know
I worship you,
But you hurt me, ignore me.
You don’t love me, not much at least.

I wanted to spend my life with you, but it looks like things have changed.
I promised you, “I will love you as long as you will let me.”
You will not.
I cannot.

Goodbye, Belle. Your name means beautiful, and if you take nothing more from me,
Know that you can, and will be wanted, loved.

I need closure. I need joy in my life.

I hope so
I really do.*

I do too.

That's not even a poem but I love it.

My nirvana is this wonderland of white and black,
An empty sheet of possibility, all my thoughts I unpack,

My eyes see cold pixels, my fingers feel a board,
But the palpable essence of a soul is restored,

How could a screen of light bring me such comfort,
Typing these words, from my road I must divert,

With short taps I paint faces, colors, monsters and more,
I resort to my adagios for a softness unheard, life I ignore.

Recklessly waving my ribcage like some paper prize for all to see,
I can't quite see what I think,
I trust my gut too much and follow a trail unnamed, untamed, unfeigned.

It's offensive; being pensive and walking slowly, defensive.
It is not my right to gain her sight without giving something in return.
I have nothing to give, when will she learn.

I am a pauper, improper.
I am an author, a stalker,
A talker.

I have words and letters,
The bird's feathers,
But I cannot fly.

I've tried.

Light is love,
Love is light,
I need both,
In the night.

You are love,
You are light,
You take away,
All my fright.

If I search my depths I cannot find
the reason why I hate you,
I know I've searched and I know I've tried
And I know I can't escape you,

It's been years and years it's been
And I know that things have changed
And I know that hatred is the source,
Of my unyielding pain,

But I can't let go of this feeling
When I see your face,
The blood in my heart begins to boil
And rush up to my face,

It hurts again and it hurts like then
And I feel some sort of hell,
And I feel those feelings come out like steam
And scream from deep in their cell-

"I want you gone or I want you dead-
Not in this life or any,
But inside of me your fingers remain
and have done damage aplenty."

I hope you hear these cries I make
For they cannot ever be spoken,
And I hope you know I mean no harm
But my peace can bear no token,

I am here and I am strong
And I am loud and I am Marshall,
But yet I break with ease,
I hope you know I'm trying my hardest
And please grant me some kind of peace.

Two lovers,
In a red wood,
Laying,
Together.

He traced the veins on her arm,
Gently.
She stared at him, at the little smirks he made,
His brown eyes.

He had been waiting for this moment,
For years,
Right here,
Alone, calm.

They loved.

I don't know what to do!
I'm losing her!
The young father cried to his parents.
What can I do?!

His mother spoke menials
Stupid remark of a sheltered woman
And a barely assertive lifestyle.

But the grand of fathers sat and listened.
He got up to leave.

Dad, please. What do I do?

I don't know. I couldn't even stop my own son from killing himself.
Don't ask me.

Difficulties exist in my abilities to say no.
I do say no,
But not without effort.

I have a lack of restraint.
I am selfish.
I want affection.
I want lips.
And arms.
And eyes.

I want love,
I want lust,
I want want.

I want so many things.
I want the pieces missing from my soul
When she left me.

Old memories
Of touch and feel
Of pick and peel
And pray and kneel.

Old sensations
Of you and me
Of us and we
And watch and see.

Dusty
     Old
          Memories.
Like classics
In a library.

Tucked away
For a later date.

A love-sick dog.
But every bone he digs up was put there by some other dog.
They all taste like other dogs.

But he stops.
"*******, the bones don't taste like other dogs,
My TONGUE tastes like other dogs."
"Those *******."

And so he spent the next couple months applying acid to his tongue,
To burn out the taste and smell of the girl-dogs he had been with.
But it never worked.

He's still trying though.
To burn the taste away.

He wants a clean bone.

Recorded words of times ago,
Recorded words that hurt,
I remember when we fell in love,
When it wasn’t just a flirt.

I remember every day,
Every word you said,
I remember every photo,
Especially that one in bed.

I don’t want to go back,
Nothing good comes from the past,
But if I had one wish,
It’d be that it wasn’t the past.

If I had three wishes,
I would wish for three things,
Your health,
Your heart,
Our life.

Don't make me fall more deeply than I have,
The hole I've fallen into still has handle bars.

But deeper, where you're dragging me,
There is only one way out.

Down.

There's an itch on my wrist
That I refuse to scratch.

I will stare at my wrist and I will say
"You will not win this."

They are yellow and green and orange
And they do not taste good
And they grow on vines,
Woman!
A gourd.
They are the colors of Autumn.
I want. A sweater. The color.
Of a.
GOURD.

There's a body on a table in a morgue.
That's all.