Poems · writing

Do You Find It Alright?

How did I get here

How do I know

Which way is up

When will I…

I’m temperate I’ll have you believe.

You hack at me, start it off

One two three four

Who is knocking at my door

Temporal, always, yes.

Buried deep in my chest

Gently tugging,

Whispering

“Have we made it yet?”

Don’t do that here.

Five six seven eight

Resistance, entreat me. They can’t be late

Interesting, be too full.

Every feat, every way, every turn. Undeveloped.

In the morning I’m silver

You’re always light blue

Why do I move. Why do I move

Finish without me I can’t take the cost

Nine ten

Late again.

Shut me off


Been doing homework all day, so here’s one circa January 12, 2018 at 5:39pm. (I like knowing the time. Frames it better for some reason. Better guess at my mindset for weird shit like this)

Poems · writing

Lover’s Descent

Orpheus, I’ve often wondered, why did you look if you knew your love was behind you?

But time and distance, silence and pain are enemies of love.

You feared she was gone.

I understand now. That longing, burning sensation of loss. You won’t know if you’ve made it until you see the light, or turn around and watch your life taken away.

Small mistakes tumbling down and piling up

Unfortunate lies soon discovered bury us under their once insignificant weight

Where were we living that we were so free?

What ever gave us the idea of exception from pain?

A child’s naivety

A Romantic heart

We’re torn apart

I do miss you.


I forgot to post yesterday! That’s my April Fool’s prank, I suppose. This is one from a couple months ago

Poems · writing

Whispered Things

I’m afraid my heart is closing up

I’m afraid the love I gave was never enough

I’m afraid of Time

Of the lines it furrows deep between, under, outside my eyes

I fear the timidness lurking inside, a meek spirit waiting to take over any liquid fire slipping passed my lips

I’ve felt it entangle me, encouraging every doubt, stroking each insecurity.

A russet hound, sickly and old

Begrudgingly, I allow these feelings to take hold

Scarcely aware of the inequities.

Poems · writing

Internalizing

Waxing Moon

Guide me to a night in June

A memory, distraction so sweet

May cannot come too soon.

Tears crack rivulets into skin

The salt water begging to wash upon every wound

A genuineness in its violence

Love as an act of defiance,

Where does it leave you?

A broken heart, this crippled tune.

Skipping beats, rhythm undone,

No longer aligned, the war is won.

I spark and these words ignite,

Setting alight flames inside this washed up soul of mine.

Hope is something I’ve indulged in,

And nothing has left more scars.

Poems · writing

In The Night

Her body is a milky haze

Moving slow motion through the waves,

Brambles crowd her mouth

Tongue caged by teeth that now prickle and bite.

Frustrations stick to lungs in clumps,

Coming back up, vile green,

Every breath a shaky occurrence.

Cannot unwind the cobweb fog her head has become

Eternal listener, augmented whispers,

Wake in the night, cry out,

She cannot hear.

Cotton replacing ears

Lips sewn shut in a mortuary style

Eyes of glass gaze back.

I think I’ll go to sleep for awhile.

Poems · writing

Darkening

Lately feeling like a mistake

Sometimes unsure of how much I can take

How far I will go.

Dwelling on negativity, an activity that is completely exhausting to me.

And yet I’ve been asking myself: was I just another fantasy

To you?

Ever since you were acquitted

I’ve admitted to every single fallacy

All my overreactions, the stifling contingency

 My ability to stir up the dust, rub lemons into cuts, and make accusations that make no sense to anyone,

Let alone me.

I see things, too late now, that were wrong about me

That are wrong about me.

That’s not to say that you are perfect in comparison,

But no one deserves and no one should ever try to fix another person.

Now with the curtains closed and coffins shut, someone nearby singing the Final Cut,

I again struggle to stand on wavering feet

Looking out to the long road ahead of me. Well,

At least I finally have a clear path, somehow.