deluge

little fellow.
tiny, baby frog
sitting on a frightfully blue
bike-lock spiral cord
waiting to bid me
adieu
on my journey home.
literally millions of dragon flies
cascade from the sky
ethereal like paper-thin crystals
spinning down to earth in a
dance.
depression,
preying on freshman,
faking your way through seven hours days.
it's like a building was built around you,
for you,
formed to you
and now it's being broken down
by a jury of every thing you ever
put a speckle of love into.

this will be interesting.

tastalgia

captain morgan reflux,
got the taste creeping up my throat.
yet there's been no consumption
so i wonder.

insomnia/knee, ah

it's these times.
the tides raise high,
the house quites its voices
and the stillness sounds like
machines crawling in infancy.
times like these that i,
i feel alone in the dark
with the sodium gateway lights
open in front of me.
the chill has come too soon,
not even the month of october has
yet to swallow the trees with
orange and red.
it's now, with no distractions
that i feel the most real,
the most disassembled.

tragedy

it's sad when you can
look at your reflection, and wonder
"who is that looking back at me?"
because you can't recognize yourself
when something's missing

accept it
you will never be happy again
unless you have it.

still

it's almost like
every electron in my body
is excited
and breaking away from the atom,
unraveling my corpse.
i used to be addicted to misery
but a forced trip into rehab's
got me down.
taking away the substance
never guarantees a recovery.

i've got a nightmare that follows me
everywhere.
gold sedan, it rears on it's hind
wheels
and tears apart every thought
stopping life in its tracks.
i cannot live this way.

it's all fucking over
and i'm forever stuck in the same spot.
i am scared and i can admit this
but it wont change a thing.
everyday way a mess
perhaps an occurrence caused by me
but honestly?
i'd rather be falling apart, that way
than falling apart, this way.

pathetic, emotional mess,
he probably laughs behind closed doors
and this hurdle is just too high
to jump over.

eff why eye?

March and April, renamed:
Depression and Schizophrenia.
may and june passed under the radar
and could cease to exist without you
knowing.
July and August, now:
Growth and Rebirth

everything is changing.
your personality gains muscle
and your emotions lose mass.
everything is coming together
albeit slowly
but you still feel
empty.

obstacle

so i've been thinking
that if my heart keeps sinking
it's gotta stop
eventually.

running out, running mouth

i like when city lights
brighten the foggy night sky;
northern lights for those
lacking poles.

i live in overcast
but photograph under golden sun.

gravity is ruling against me
and i feel sick, now,
only because i've realized
i was genuinely happy, then
but never again...

late night dress-up

was it dirt smeared away from his eyes
like some ritualistic makeup
or his inner cherokee?
his face, heavily lined
but healthily dark,
hair free of grays
and clothes a tattered mess.
inside he was young
and his smile revealed the youth
still alive inside.
his words were slurred
like he couldn't fit his mouth around them
to pronounce them properly.

another man in striking contrast
he lives for his health
straightedge and passionate
yet they both sit on the streets
of portsmouth
begging, for lack of a better word
for money, to keep a living.

mr. lekler, he plays the dulcimer
and the melodic pings that shoot out
from in front of him
create beauty you cannot ignore
yet the drunks stumbling their way
down the streets,
they are blind
or rather, deaf
to his passion and his living
and it's terribly sickening.
the words he relayed to you, that night
gave you hope and realization
for his thoughts are your thoughts
and his wisdom is here to help you
to give you guidance.

the cherokee looking for weed on the streets
far away from home was he
and he scrounged yuppies for dirty pocket money
that would become dirtier by his hands
but he also had some stories to tell
that furthered your appreciation,
fed your heart and broadened your mind.
he is the bad conscience in all of us
and he is the hippie everyone strives to be.

their words told you to go in opposite directions
but their hearts lead the same path
and so does yours.

the truth, very obvious

she's ugly, homely
outspoken, too nice and
not interested in anything
you like.

you are beauty, defined.
shy, nervous and
short tempered.

i thought we had something
nice going, but
i guess i was very wrong.

i wont hesitate to
punch her in her ugly face
or spit in her eye
so keep her the fuck away if you
like her at all.

though, how can you
if you let one of your best friends
call her a cunt.

i don't think you realize
what you let go.

self hate prevalent

i don't care what any of you say
this is never ever ever going to change.
words were better with heart still intact.
can't really explain any of this with
justice or beauty or poise.
freaking out because i
count the days without sight, but i
freak out because i count the days until
i must face it again.
my entire life, a paradox,
a conflict.
all of this is bullshit.
so much pain i can never sleep
i can't smile without it
faltering and my thoughts
are never kind.

i should ask
what you're going to do when
school starts and you're
separated but,
i'm sure you'll have the perfect answer.

i just want everything to disappear
this whole year is stress heaven and
i fear my head may explode.

they say you'll look back and realize
it was never what you thought it was.
i say i'll never let this happen again
and they say, everyone else says that, too.
i learn from my mistakes.
primitive instinct makes you stay away
from things that hurt you
and this is no different.

when you realize you can never be happy again
what exactly are you supposed to do?

omgpleasehelp

can't keep doing this every night
it's destroying me.

falling apart more each day
a rag doll ripping at the seams
the sand that fills me slowly drains
and my animated face sags in ghastly humility.
i am inwardly screaming
in a silent plea
pain sizzling off of me from the heat
just bounces off my hard outer shell
trapped inside, never coming out.
i'm too proud
and too scared
to say anything face to face
or more accurately,
text to text
for perhaps i know the ultimate outcome.

he's been gone for too long
a foreigner, now
you can barely remember
the memories you share
and any thought of him seems
ludicrous
and so far away...
almost like none of it ever
happened in the first place.
it's almost funny,
almost.

any kind of reunion would be
asinine and futile
awkward and uncomfortable
not do-able, refuse-able
happily avoidable and impossible.
but each night in bed
your mind regresses and your entire body
screams for him
and you wonder if it will ever stop
if everything will return back to
"normal"
if it could ever be the same and
oh, God, please please
please
i don't know if i can live this way
i don't know if i can win this battle
i can't see myself doing it
this is all too much...

reunion, impossible
friendship, impossible
moving on, impossible

where else is there to go?

je te deteste pour ne m'aime pas

his personality is mind numbing.
her's, comically clashing
a red light district whore,
red fire light spinning on
the crown of her skull.
each rotation
and red is burning in your eyes.

to her, he offers your needles-
-needless to say
it's irrational.
combine words for a thick paste
that mirror in sound and
sight but are
completely different.
the needles keep a metal zipper
pinned to your chest
which when unzipped reveals
your insides.

you are slowly making your way
to being fresh faced
and it's not so bad.
however,
sweat still covers your body
and every area is fair game.

you're hurtin'.
he'll never take you back
never want you back,
never anything.
but you're still going to hope
and dream
and nothing can take that away from you.
it's just how your mind works.
half living in reality
half living in conscious dreaming.

fuming

if i could tear down this entire house
from the foundation up
with a sledgehammer,
i would.
sweat would roll off my skin
like diamonds.
i'd be rich in anger,
high in fiber
with wooden splinters piercing my flesh.
oh, how inventive.
it's all a futile attempt
to release everything.
i could never do such a thing
but dreaming is nice enough for now.

stuffy

i feel imprisoned.
every thought and emotion
seeps out of me
and fills up this house,
clogging the air
suffocating like high humidity.

i scream and
silence reverberates back at me.

i think of how it's been 3 months
and get completely sick.

i'm dying alone in this
godforsaken house.

i think maybe
you gave up on me
when i needed you most

and you know this

resurface

literally drowning under
gravity, fresh air
emotions and thoughts

sometimes i'm not sure i'm
breathing

left them downstairs

i'm sick of feeling this
i thought i was over it.
it's come down to:
given the chance, i'd go back
take it back...
-become what i hate
in order to heal.

i'd be decomposing everyday
happily.
my skin would shed in layers,
i'd be exposed to the cold
naked to the eye
but not to the naked eye
and i'd shiver in shame
but boil beneath tender muscle.
emotional-physical mess,
put myself down
thoughts construed and pointless,
unhappy,
yet my heart on a pedestal
beating erratically for
you.

he is utterly beautiful.
his eyes crescents as he looks up
into top eyelashes, at me
they glimmer in the soft glow of the
static television and for that moment
i wish he was
all mine
for i know she will never
care for him like i know i can.
he is pursuing a lost cause,
a heartbreaking unsatisfiable banshee
-words i could never speak to him.
my care, my want
it is born from places unknown
hidden from view, hidden from brain synapses.
he isn't the source of my pain
but he looks like my captor
and perhaps that is the sole reason.

i wouldn't say i'm still in love
but memories keep me grounded
and destroy the muscle keeping me alive
constricts airway passages
and tricks my brain into:
suffocation, arrhythmias
stomaches bottoming out and
bottom-of-a-long-dark-well
feelings.

i thought i was okay
but that's clearly not the case

free it, please

everything's carefully cryptic;
you're too scared of anything else.
emotionless, bottomless well,
welcome to outer appearances:

creamy beige,
the early stages of a baking wonder.
run your fingers up and down,
a tireless exercise
and glow from the fact
that it all belongs to you.
you are the last two people on this earth.
all thoughts revolve around each other
and eye contact brings the realization
that there are no two separate paths,
but in fact, an intertwined web of thoughts
and decisions.
you put all of yourself into one thing
because you believe it's a part of yourself.
you aren't giving yourself away to someone
you're giving yourself away
to yourself.
you can hold on
and feel comfort
because it beats and breathes beneath you
but you never believe it's another entity
and you never give it it's chance, either.

revelation

touching something
you believe with all your heart
is beautiful
makes you, yourself
feel beautiful
and that is the glamor
of love.

i'm not.

tu me manques.
yeah, i'm sorry.

i like temperature

you've broken it so badly
that i've developed heartburn

the worst season

on summer nights
i used to let my love
flourish.
it emanated from my being,
swirling off like smoke,
like the sweat evaporating
from our skin; hot heat.
it tasted
sweet.
i apologized, for my tongue
consumed all the sugar
and left you all the sour.
but ironically,
i'm the one feeling bitter.

summer nights now,
my love is left to rot.
it was given all away
and now it's time to
let it regenerate.
my pores are all closed
and here's the problem:
it's all stuck up inside.
no one to give it to
but no will to give it out, either.

lover

thank you.
you reminded me
i wasn't built to love.
you reminded me
being something i'm not
isn't worth it.
you taught me
the people who love me
are meant to hurt me.
robotically programmed
you as the doctor
frankenstein, perhaps.

you've created a monster.

induced chemicals

how can so much laughter
come out of someone
so devastatingly depressed?

missed this

i do it
so my skin can open like a mouth
and breathe;
my skin's too tight,
needing to be shed
and i am just a personality
stuck inside flesh and bone.

trust in me.
i don't compensate beauty
for identity
but sometimes
everything just isn't enough.

lullaby

you tap the surface of the water
and it ripples, the sunlight
acting as a prism as it colors the water.
the lime-green fish backtracks,
kissing the water once it returns stagnant
and you sing him a lullaby
though he can't hear it.
"i once believed i would die without you,
but now, i know i'm stronger than that"

changes

as he devours my neck
i wonder
what have i become?

no more wishes
for last chances.
i'm done

tall tree

finger biting frustration
leech and lice nesting in your
head, scratch until your bitten fingers
are stiff.

get dolled up
just to cut your foundation down
and destroy self upheaval
and respect.

bend backwards for the pain
and to accommodate for
everything.

breathe the scent of the
fresh, new air
and of the beauty in the
immediate surroundings.