I carry fragments of every version of myself.

A scared kid, alone, waiting in a car,
the world just beyond the window,

a quiet ache in my chest.

A troubled teen,

fingers trembling,

seeking solace in the burn of tobacco.

A young adult,

locked in a cage I built,

controlled by the world and its expectations.
But in the stillness of all these lives I've lived,

I’ve never surrendered.

I’ve learned how to survive.

I’ve fought battles, against myself, against the world,

I've been knocked down more times than I can count,
But I always get up.
I still work,

a slow, steady progress,

never perfect,

but always moving forward.

More.
More, more, more!

Is it always wrong to long for more?

I know what I want, I know what I need,

It’s right there, within my reach,

Tugging at its sleeve,

My eyes devour it greedily,

Soaking in my desire.
Please, give it to me

I can’t bring myself to take it.

Let the bones from my back turn to dust and fertilize the soil,
Let the ichor of my husk water the moss and ferns,
Let the hair on my head be given to the birds for their nest,
Let them make a home from my hollow skull,
Let the heart, still in my chest, be nourishment for the foxes,
Let it all return, not as it was, but as it is meant to be.

Her touch was sickly sweet poison,
Formaldehyde, cold and suffocating.

Her fingers left a trail of bad decisions
 a path I still fight to undo.
Her eyes bored into me, hungry for a taste,

and I, unguarded, reluctantly let her consume me.
She lives inside me now,

in the restless need I can’t shake,

in the cravings I never asked for,

in the lust I fight to control.
She led me down this path,

through shadows of hypersexuality,

and I wonder if you feel anything now.

Do you ******* pain,

the part of me you left behind?

I hope you hate yourself,

the way I’ve learned to hate what you made me become.

I want to be nowhere special,

with no one special.

Our home, just walls and quiet rooms,

our cars, worn but dependable,

our bank accounts simple,

our clothes, nothing to boast about.

Our food, plain and comforting,

our jobs, unremarkable but steady,

our phones, just tools for connection.
But in the midst of it all,

we will be something quiet,

something real.
We will be enough,

without ever needing to be special.

Are we a novel or a short story?
Will the hero vanquish the villain, or will we spiral into a psychological thriller?
Is there magic lurking in the corners,
or mischief in every twist?
Will we find glory or guts,
or will gold be the prize we never reach?

Will there be romance that ignites,
or a slow burn that fizzles out?
Will triumph rise,
or will we drown in the weight of defeat?
Fighting, feuds, will they scar us,
or will they push us toward something greater?

What will our story look like?
Are we a best seller, cherished,
or a forgotten tome gathering dust on a shelf?
Will we inspire revolution,
shifting the course of history?
Will we echo the power of ancient, biblical texts,
words that change lives for centuries to come?

Will we inspire, educate, and challenge?
Or will we lull, a quiet companion to sleep?
Do we linger in quiet moments,
read in bathrooms, in bedrooms,
or do we make our mark in the world outside?
Are we a tale as old as time,
or a new chapter waiting to unfold?

Time will only tell,
but I wish I could read between the lines
turn the page
before the story’s over.

The scars upon my flesh grow dull and pale,

A reminder, though faded, of a lesson learned or a fight endured.

The wounds within my soul remain raw, vivid, and tender.

If they could be seen, they would weep and bleed,

A stark contrast to the markings that decorate my skin.

A lover, a friend, a stranger, a shrink,
No matter their attempts to heal, I react

Like a cornered animal, resisting any aid.

Can I, like a wolf trapped by a bear trap,

Chew through my own memories to escape the pain,

Or will they remain, festering and new,

A constant reminder of the wounds that still bind me?

When will enough be enough?
When the seed of doubt has fully bloomed?
When the clock on the wall has struck its last note?
When the thumping of the rain falls silent?
When the light of dawn breaks through the dark?
When the winds of change blow their final breath?
When the weight of silence is lifted from the room?
When the shadows fade and reveal the truth?
When the last step is taken, and the path is known?
When will the end finally meet the beginning?

Your heart remains covered by vines and branches
The vines shroud you, and the thorns guard you
I will not hack and slash to reveal you
I will water and nurture, letting the small bulbs grow into vibrant flowers.
I will not pick them, I will let them live and thrive
If the season of frost comes again, and the flowers wilt
and the vines turn brown
I will be patient and caring, tending to the garden of our love
waiting for your heart to open once more

Brought into this world, ****** and afraid,

My face blue, unable to cry,

I took my first breath in silence,

A cry buried in the depths of a heart not yet ready.
I woke up one day, six,
And found the bitter taste of my father's world,

Beer and cigarettes,

Ashen remnants of choices he never took back,

I swore I'd be nothing like him.

They taste gross,

Their sharp edges biting against the innocence I tried to hold.

I fell back asleep,

A sleep that carried me through the years.
I woke up at eleven,

Staring down at the chalk on the ground,

Scraped knees, tear-streaked cheeks,

A bruise on my soul, unseen but aching.

Falling asleep again,

Trying to outrun the weight of the world.
I woke up at fifteen,

Cigarette in one hand, beer in the other,
Guess my old man is still a part of me,

His ghosts clinging to my skin,

Yet I carry them like a burden I never chose.

I fell asleep again,

Hoping I could escape,

But the shadows lingered,

Uninvited, relentless.
I woke up at twenty four,
And the weight had shifted,

I put down the beer, swapped the cigarette for a vape,

A quiet rebellion, small but real.

I’ll fall asleep again,

But not as the same person.

I’ll wake up accomplished,

Surrounded by a loving community of friends and family,

Roots that stretch deeper than the chaos of the past.

I will not let my past become my future,

I will grow beyond what I was,

And the kid who couldn’t cry,

Will one day find their voice.

The bird in the zoo,

A fleeting shadow,

While the tigers, lions, and bears sit pristine.

Behind glass, behind iron,

The ice cooler hums its silent cold,

A tire swing creaks in empty air,

A scratching post stands tattered,

Drawing the eyes of tourists,

The pride of the wild carry distant memories of jungles and savannahs,

Of woods that no longer exist,

Only flashes and pointed fingers remain.
They perform for their meals,

Hiding nothing,
Not a sliver of escape in sight,

There are no corners,

No refuge from the onslaught of gazes.

The birds come,

Landing briefly,

Their wings heavy with the weight of both freedom and confinement,

Dipping their beaks into water,

Picking at scraps,

And then, without a word,

They depart,

Gone again to the wild,

Leaving only the scent of freedom behind.
I, too, am a wild bird in a domestic zoo,

Half caged, half free,

My spirit soaring beyond the bars,

Yet tethered still to the eyes that watch me.

A swirl of blood, rain and sunlight,

Cigarettes smoldering in the woods,

Guns echoing where dinosaurs once roamed,
Beer spilling from broken mugs,

Footprints tattooing the muddy earth,

Where trees stand like silent witnesses.
Calm lakes, a mirror for troubled youth,

Roaring rivers hum a distant tune,

A German shepherd's bark echoes through,

Messy handwriting scrawled on weathered pages,

Anguished cries caught in the wind,

Blue jeans torn, like faded memories,

Toothy grins hiding the truth behind soaked shirts.
Bruised legs, open wounds

Tattered shoes that never stop running.

Half-hearted confessions slip through the cracks,

In the language of partially completed machinery,

Where love, like rust, clings to forgotten gears.
What feels like me?

The ache between the silence and the storm.
Never knowing the truth to the cyclone within.
Running from the past on two broken feet.
I will refuse to cower any longer.

You fall asleep on the phone, I stay silent and still

I watch the clouds roll over the hill

Wonder how long before you let me in

To the place by the mountains, covered in snow

The frost on the windows, the cold biting your nose

You need your space, you crave their love

You sleep on the phone, and my hand aches for your touch
I hope you think I matter as much

As the boy in your dreams, soft and frail

Nights like this make me feel like I’m in hell

But hell would be warm, this love makes me cold

I hope we’ll be able to die when we’re old
Sitting in chairs by the fire, hearts full of desire

Grandkids aplenty, stories to tell

Not just a house on the hill, but a love that lasts

And when it’s time, we’ll be the past

A hole in the ground, where we’ll rest side by side

And the gravedigger will fill the void where we once lived our lives

You were young, barely 16.
****** into a world of hate and pain.
You were sensitive and fragile.
Too soft for this world.
You took your life in front of the room we shared our favorite class.
The cops said you did it the night before.
I cant get the image of your cold body hanging from the gutter out of my mind.
Why did you do it?
Were you scared?
Were you sad?
Were you bullied?
The cops said the only two things you had on you were your rubix cube, and the signed ticket to the play we saw together.
You were always playing with that **** rubix cube, showing it off and messing around.
I won’t be able to look at one ever the same.
I still have the picture i took of you with the cast members.
The smile from ear to ear as you went through and showed me each signature and told me who they played in it.
Every day i see something that reminds me of you.
Should i follow in your footsteps?
Today marks a week since you took your own life.
Im full of sadness, guilt and anger.
How do i move on from this.

this site and writing poetry was a great outlet so that i didnt **** myself, and it helped me to figure out who i am and what i wanted in my life. i genuinely think that writing poetry saved my life. that being said i dont need it anymore, hopefully i never have to come back to writing poetry, because if i do it means that i am doing bad again.

You were my sunshine, I loved to feel your warmth on my back, and your beauty radiating upon my face.
Sunshine is good for you, in small quantities. I didn’t mind the sunburns I’d get and would take all the vitamin D I could get.
Prolonged exposure to sun can cause sunburns, premature skin aging (though that may have been attributed to the cigarettes you made me addicted to)  skin damage (from the knives you’d drag across my body, you were always a sadist)  and skin cancer. You were a tumor, slowly killing me, and I had to cut you away from me. I’m in remission, I pray to God that you don’t make me go through this again, no amount of treatment, whether it be cannabis or prayer could save me a second time.





I am vitamin D deficient.

I could never wait to get to the center
of the lollipop without biting.
Never had the patience of the kid in the commercial.
I was always the owl.
One lick to growing up too fast.
One lick to unwanted ****** scenarios.
One lick to depression.
One lick to heartbreak.
One lick to self medication.
One lick to suicide.
Lick.
Lick.
Lick.




Crunch.

i hope he loves you the way i never could

You have my heart, but you aren’t here.
She has my body, because you aren’t here.

You promised me forever, forever you were mine.
As long as long as the stars would shine.
How was I supposed to know forever could burn out so soon.

thank you for  breaking my heart into pieces, you taught me how to put myself back together.
thank you for not loving me, you taught me to love myself.
thank you for leaving me, you taught me how to find myself.

I want to french kiss you
with a grenade in my mouth

This is the poem I never gave you, I always promised I'd write you one but you left before I could. I could write about the way your freckles dotted upon your cheeks and nose were as numerous as the constellations, or how your wavy black hair was as captivating as the darkness of the black night sky. However, you are unlike the constellations, you are like the ocean, vast and deep but so close to us, yet vastly unexplored. Did you know we have explored more of the moon than we have of our own ocean? You resemble the ocean in that way, everyone always looks to the stars and revels in their beauty but overlook our very own deepness. You are like the ocean, you slipped through my hands like the ever-changing tide softly rocking against the beach. To bathe in your calming waters once again would quench my love for water for eternity.

just call me, just once more, let me hear your voice and the way your haughty breathing drifts over the speaker. Please let me listen to you, let me listen to you, let me listen. Please tell me all the answers ive been begging for tell me how it all makes sense. Tell me what happened, tell me what you did, why you did it, tell me how you could have done it.

You wouldn't have slowly drifted away
If you truly had meant all the promises you made

Give me a reason not to love you.
Give me a reason to not love the way your eyes sparkle on a sunny day.
The way your hair drifts in the breeze.
The way the corners of your mouth start to curve at the start of a stupid pun.
How i feel at rest when listening to your breathing.
How your nose wrinkles as that laugh of yours passes through my very soul.
I never thought i could fall for a shooting star.
Give me a reason not to love you.

long as theres blood running through these veins
long as there's a pulse
long as theres breath in my chest
ill never give up
ill fight tooth and nail
as long as i am alive i will never give up
they always said boys like us was stubborn
always taking the hardest route
but always gettin what we wanted
we start where we are
use what we got
and do what we can
thats our mantra
and ain't nothing get in our way that we cant fight our way through

sparking up a joint i look out at the field where i spent my summers as a child
the fence where i tore my hand on the barbed wire
the greenhouse with the window
still broken from the baseball thrown a little too hard
it all seems so far away
as if it were from another life
and in a way
it is
no longer am i a child
awaiting recess and nap time
now i await my nightly smoke and another day of being heartbroke

The bile that fills my stomach from words left unspoken is threatening to come pouring out of my mouth with words lathered in blood

in a world so rough
you were so soft

What do you do when you lover leaves you
some drink
some smoke
some cry
and some croak
well me, i just kept on livin
i slept
i prayed
i worked out
and got laid
or at least thats what id like to tell him
in truth i spent weeks in bed
couldnt get out of my own **** head
laying there smoking my ****
when it was really him that i need
living without him was living without direction
nothing would help, no fresh air or self medication
seemed like the end for me after a bottle of jack and a handful of pills
i wasn't staring down the barrel just for cheap thrills
after all this suffering agony and pain
it was still memories of him that plagued my brain
ive got no answers to soothe the pain
nothing will help
no ****, no *****, not even *******
i promised him so much but from the blade i couldnt refrain

everytime i see a german shepard i see you
evertime i hear scripture i hear you
everytime i smell **** i smell you
everytime i touch a keyboard i feel you
everytime i taste hot cocoa i taste you
everytime i feel love i feel you
how am i supposed to forget you when you are in everything i do?

I will always be in love with you
You are my only one
Like Icarus to the sun
I got ahead of myself and was consumed
My love has been engulfed in flames
a multitude of things are to blame
a lack of communication
being on separate sides of the nation
broken pieces trying to fit together
although my heart is light as a feather
it feels as though my chest consists of lead

I wish i sent you that letter
I wish i bought you that ticket
I wish i told you i loved you more
I wish i could see you again
I wish you could still be mine
I hope you know ill always be yours
I wish that you were here
I wish i could do something
I wish i could listen to your voice
I wish i could hold you tight
I wish i could hear you laugh

You said to write you poetry, and that you'd be mine.
Looks like someone beat me to it.

I wish I could be his lips, for they are embracing yours, not mine, tonight.
I ache to be his arms, to hold you tightly and never to let go feeling your warmth and softness.
I crave to be his eyes to look at you once more, soaking in your ethereal radiance.
I long to be his chest, to have you rest your head upon me listening to my heartbeat and soft breathing, falling asleep upon me.
I yearn to be his ears, to hear your soft and poetic words as they dance around in my head once again in that special way that only you can create.
I Miss Loving You.

my father was a drunk
mother was a *****
dad spent his paycheck on *****
so we were always poor
drinkings what he chooses
going to school with bruises
no friends to talk to
zipper always askew
although they stared
no one cared
until the boy with the charming eyes
the one who told such pretty lies
but i didnt mind
he was ever so kind
finding ways to make me smile
but of course he left after a while
but who could blame him?
i am just a broken kid full of sin
he was an angel
and all i do is make things painful

dont get sad get angry
dad beats you?
get angry
best friend commits suicide?
get angry
love of your life leaves you?
get angry

not even her with the candy coated lips and the spark from her fingertips
could take my mind off you
not her with the lungs full of smoke
as she takes another ****
could take my mind off you
not her with the plastered on frown
and the "dark black" crown
could take my mind off you
not her with the shiny blade
and the chrome handle
could take my mind off you
not her with the orange filter
and the smooth draw
could take my mind off you
only her with the sensitive trigger
and the steel barrel
could take my mind off you
and away from me

teardrops on a bedroom pillow
blood drops into the bathroom sink
my heart drops into my stomach
my voice drops to a monotone whisper
my body drops to the floor
my mother drops me off at the hospital
morticians drop my body into the casket
the priest drops the casket into the earth
the worms drop into my hollow chest

Pretty boy's gone
Since yesterday,
done with flirtin and acting gay
Bad Boy's back with the cigarette lighter and the twenty sack of **** to get a little higher
Ever since they went away, well
pretty boy's been full of dismay
heartbroken and lonesome he roams the town
looking for some ***** in which he'll drown,
broken and beaten
mean and old
on the street is where he sold
his pills and ****
his cid and lean
oh Pretty boy, sure got mean.
All the pretty girls tried to fix him
But he never could forget about the one that tricked him.
the one who stomped on his heart like a cigarette ****
extinguishing the warmth within him
like a punch to the gut
his eyes, once warm and inviting
are cold and dark
full of thunder and a spark of lightning

you told me to forget you
how the **** am i supposed to forget the late nights and early mornings spent talking about our future
the crowded apartment and loving arms
days at the beach and nights on the roof
daydreams of playing with your hair
holding your hand
stroking your cheeks
kissing your lips
falling asleep in a tangle of arms and legs
loving each other unconditionally
as long as blood runs through my veins
ill never forget
as long as my lungs take in air
ill never forget
as long as my heart beats
ill never forget
as long as im alive
ill never forget
forever and a day

Youre just like your father she said
not knowing that she was right
just not in the way she meant
the way she meant was that he was
a spitfire
a hoodlum
the kind of kid who'd start every fight
she didnt know however that he drank cheap beer
just like his father
for the same reasons
his clammy hands clasped around the neck of the brown bottle
as if he was trying to hold on to the little bit of fight he had left in him
he smoked cigarettes just like his father
for the same reasons
the smoke burning his chest
filling the emptiness that was left there from the many lovers who took what they wanted and left
he was broken and hurting deep inside
just
like
his
father
already emotionless and hardened from the years of struggles in his life
just like his father

Was it she who took you from me?
She who filled your mind with falsities?
She who painted me with blacks and red, when you knew in your heart that we were yellows and blues?
She never did like me, but I can't tell you how much it hurts that she would get through to you this much.
My life was planned around you and i'm not so sure that i can draft more plans.
A bottle of whiskey and a handgun are much cheaper than a flight, but I was willing to buy that flight.
She is unbelievably good at telling you how to feel, I just wish you knew how to tell yourself.
Will I see you in heaven?
You were always my angel.
And I, your god.
I thought I could make my own heaven down here with you.
You crafted me a Hell, not one with fire and demons.
One with lies and heartbreak.
One of sleepless nights and sunken eyes.
One of empty stomachs and full minds.

i hope you see me at the bottom of your glass
i hope you see me in your sunday mass
i hope you see me in your saturday cartoons
i hope you see me in the summer rain
i hope you see me in the cracked porcelain
i hope you see me in the smile of a child
i hope you see me in the sun upon your back
i hope you see me in your afternoon snack
i hope you see me in the daisy growing through the cracks in the sidewalk
i hope you see me in the face of everyone you love
i hope you see me in the beauty of a dove
i hope you see me in the ember of your cigarette
i hope you see me in every dog you pet
i hope you see me in your lovers eyes
i hope you see me in your dreams
i hope you see me in your favorite sports teams
i hope you see me in your nightmares
i hope you see me in your mirror
i hope you see me when you start thinking clearer
i hope you see me in the faces of a close friend
i hope you see me in the end
cause god knows i see you

For some a heartbreak is worth a fifth of *****.
Others, a pint of ice cream.
For me, it was lots of **** last time.
But, you, you're a different kind of hurt.
The one that keeps you up at night.
The kind of heartbreak you can feel in your lungs.
Each breath becoming increasingly more difficult to take.
You are the kind of heartbreak that you never truly get over.
You are the kind of heartbreak that feels like it can only ever healed with a bullet.

If freckles were angel kisses would you give me more than i have?
if bruises were faerie kisses would you make me a multicolored green blue and purple mess?
would you do me the favor of showing me how much you love me with the hurt?
let me know i mean something to you with each mark
i crave the pain and the trauma please give it to me let me feel normal again
help me to feel anything at all

a thousand lies?
its chill dont worry
cheating?
its chill dont worry
jealousy?
its chill dont worry
mistrust?
its chill dont worry
disappearing for long periods of time?
its chill dont worry
pushing me away?
its chill dont worry
im slowly starting to decay?
its chill dont worry
breaking my ******* heart?
its chill dont worry
pulling the trigger on my dad's rifle?
It's chill, don't worry.

my god is in a four hour long phone call
my god is in my lovers laugh
my god is the smoke drifting out the window
my god is stolen kisses
my god is a dull pocket knife
my god is passing out in my clothes
my god is love letters
my god is sunken eyes
my god is stealing from the liquor cabinet
my god is a ripped pair of blue jeans
my god is sneaking out at night
my god is making out in the park
my god is heartbreak
my god is listening to music too loud
my god is walking on the edge of a cliff
my god is a cold beer
my god is a pack of cigarettes
my god is a broken mirror
my god is a blood soaked towel
my god is dreaming of them
my god is waking up in a sweat
my god is teardrops on your pillow
my god is burnt flesh
my god is broken knuckles
my god is blood in the sink
my god is broken glass
my god is unanswered prayers
my god is unanswered texts
my god is a rifle
my god is a bullet
my god is darkness

The way his words cascaded down upon me like a never ending waterfall of wisdom and love
I was unable to quench my thirst
His arms reaching out in a loving embrace enveloping me in warmth
There was no place id rather be
His eyes deep and dark seemingly endless in their striking beauty
I could get lost in them
His lips, dear lord, his lips
Electricity coursing throughout my veins from head to toe when our stardust collided in a world shattering show of true beauty.
Gabriel.