untitled

standing here
i quit school today
did you know that?
of course you wouldn't
you're too busy to care
to notice
glass of whiskey in my hand
the same old song and dance
add some new moves
anger
thrashing
turn turn kick turn
smash the glass against the wall
shattered pieces in my hand
the sting of whiskey
mixing with my blood
i lap it up
a last desperate attempt
at failed sobriety
at finding you
i swallow the whiskey
the blood
pieces of glass
take me away
take me where you are
take me where
i never need to feel again
only the glass tearing my stomach
and the whiskey reminding me of old wounds

i hate when my tongue bleeds from biting too fucking hard

this is retarded
i'm not allowed to say what i think
because it might negatively impact others
who told me i couldn't?
no one.
i decided.
fuck i hate this hole i'm in.
i can't tell them
what i want them to hear
because it all comes back on my dad
or
i don't want to hurt their feelings
because i do love them
i just can't stand them
i can't face them
the worst part is
avoiding them
paying for things
that i decided not to do
fuck.
my.
life.
psychoanalyze me.
you're a fucking psychiatrist
in your fucking dreams
they don't even know what they're talking about
they have no fucking clue what's going on
and i have to tread carefully when i speak
especially when entering dangerous waters
wouldn't want to rouse the sharks now, would we?

harry and his bucketfull of dinosaurs

there is obviously something wrong with this child
do his parents not notice?
that he disappears
for hours at a time?
and when he comes back
he tells them about adventures with his dinosaurs
is it going to end up being like that scene
from premonition
where they call in people
to take him to a psych ward?
he thinks everything is fine
until one day
BAM!
you're in a psych ward
and are the dinosaurs real?
does anyone else see them?
do they really exist?
or is harry's grandma indulging his imagination...
setting out cookies for the dinos?
maybe it's genetic.
she sees them too.
but plays it off as indulging a child's fantasy...
to get aboard the magic ride
all we do is jump inside.

mr potato head

he stands on his stand
with his goofy glasses
and blank stare
what horrors has he seen?
him
the defective one with no butt flap
he cannot store his facial pieces
sodomized
by the plastic stand that came in the box
the special metal box
more like a cookie tin
a cell.
a tomb.
doomed to grow eyes
tentacles
desperately reaching out
yearning
for the light
open the box
light up his life.
put on his top hat
make him individual.
because right now
he's just a number
just another plastic potato.

untitled

somehow.
most of my poetry
does not have any title
except untitled
is that an example of irony?
i flunked english class...

untitled

these lies
are like your touch
your taste
your lips
in the way you look at me.
i see.
you don't mean it
who would?
who could say anything like love
or forever
when it comes to a wretch like me?
the thing that hurts most
is you never did.
i never even got the satisfaction
of a lie.

untitled

there are people
i've betrayed
disappointed
by staying with you
they don't understand
don't want to see
what i see
what do i see?

untitled

before you came along
everything was dark; bleak
shades of gray
i couldn't believe it
yet there you were
playing a most wonderful
lovely
melody on my heart strings
and i let you in
but something changed
altered by fate
or some such bullshit
turning your major chords
to minor
slowing the melody
written for me alone
and as you play
you wish there was an audible heart beat
to keep time
but my heart beats are irregular
and at this point, you can't have both the melody and the beat
i am your incomplete song
the bane of your existence
and as you play your melody
my heart beat
inaudible
beings to slow
and so do you
as you reach the end of your tune
the end of me
defeated once again
and you've already moved on to the next

untitled

visions
my own
secrets that only i know
no one else is aware i have
dreams and wishes
that force me to
conform
in an attempt of repression
in that
i repress myself
so as not
to trouble anyone
no one needs to know
no, not right now
but the time will come
when the world breaks down
cracking the dam
making it flow
in a torrential wave
of fury
and unharnessed dreams

untitled

have you noticed
that i'm sick?
that i'm tired?
of wishing and hoping
that maybe someday i'll find someone
who wants me
accepts me
and is capable of and willing to break down my barriers
to find me
and don't you DARE tell me there's someone for me
because i'm tired of being spoon fed
everyone else's broken dreams, senseless hopes
and fucking beliefs
little white lies, passed down through generations
to boost the ego of an ugly race
don't you dare tell me
because you know what?
it's not in the cards

untitled

everyone wants it to be ok
and human nature is strange
in that
we all set ourselves up for disappointment
like
we both know it's not ok
somewhere inside
we just know
but i'm always last to realize it
and it's never on my own
by the time someone snuffs that hope
i'm high as a kite
on the idea of the future
when suddenly
you become the commencement of my suicide
when i'm falling
and still telling everyone it's ok
so that no one will bother catching me
crying myself to sleep
but quietly
so that no one asks if i'm ok
because nothing's ok
and it never was
and never will be

free

the silver clouds
in the bright blue sky
the wind that blows
for you and i
the grass of green
the sea of blue
the birds that sing
for me and you
so don't you worry
the way things may be
the best things in life
are free

unconditionally

when i look into your eyes
i see my future
staring back at me
daring me to reach out and touch it
when i see you
my heart skips a beat
shudders with longing
and screeches to a stop
when i need you
to the point where it feels like my heart will burst
and i want to press you close to me
making two beating hearts one
to the point where my legs become weak
and the world stops turning
but only for that moment
when i tell you i'll love you
unconditionally.

untitled

dreaming
conscious of my mental state
i look down at my skin
opalescent in the moonlight
i move through the thicket around me
cowering at my obvious vulnerability
i hear movements
i scream
in an attempt to escape
i run
nimble in my movements
but not fast enough
i fall to the ground
as i feel a gyration of movements around me
grating in my mind
the movement stops
and i do not breathe
cannot breathe
for fear i will be found once more
devastated by the loss of an innocence
as i feel the jumbled emotions move through my brain
inarticulate
i stagger away from the dreaded area
though never escaping the horror of that moment
a shudder passes through me
as i fight so smother my rage
my fury
my embarassment
corrupted
i heave
unable to draw air
i heave again
as i feel an irresistible urge to run
to stay
a cacophony of emotion
i stagger further into the forest
oppressive
funereal
i move forward
i heave
bringing myself to my knees
ululations escaping my throat
betraying my fears
as i hear a chant in the distance
implying something ominous
a rite of passage
a sacrifice
as my mind is devoured
by filthy thoughts
and necromancy
filled to the brim
with my dark memories
and i cannot wake
for it was never a dream

birthday poem

joanie
thy guitar in they profile picture
reeks of pure awesome
although i know it isn't yours
so justin can't have it fo sho
and thy birthday is today
and ye be turning 15
which just to happens to be
a year younger than me

untitled

i cried myself to sleep
because of you
because of the things you said
because of what you did
in a dream
i came to the realization that
it wasn't you i wept over
it was me
my idiocy
my gullibility
and i cried myself awake

untitled

the tender die young
the desperate die old
in a dark alley that reeks of death and despair
we are the youth
unite us
we are the old
don't fight us
with time comes age
with age comes wisdom
or does it?

untitled

death is the creeper
that follows you everyhwere
it's always there
a dark genderless mass
invisible to the untrained eye
it's there
in the bathroom, bedroom, kitchen
in the depths of your soul