IfIf you could read my mind you'd think I was insane.
CleverClever is just another word for awesome.Unfortunately I am neither.
NormalNormal is only an adjective.
FriendBeing a friend doesn't mean you were there in the beginning. It means your willing to be there in the end.
Who I AmThe pathless woods,and the lonely shore.The deepest sea,and the music in the roar.The chill in the wind,the unclimbable mountain,the kiss of the rain,and the oncoming storm.
SilenceMidnight, I can hear the clock. I walk around my house, the lights on.I come to the mirror above the mantlepiece, so intricately carved and hypnotizing. I look into the mirror.Behind me is black, the lights are on, but my reflection is black, except for my face, outlined and shining.I reach out to touch the mirror, the air chafes my hand red and raw, and the feeling of silk drops over my shoulders.It's so alone, so blank and sad.I spin around! Swearing I saw something move in the corner. Like a shadow, climbing the wall.I turn back to face the mirror, the darkness is gone! I can now see, clearly behind me, a tall, lean, shadow, in the shape of the man. Hanging on the wall.It crawls along the top of the ceiling, coming towards me, twisting like a snake. It stops above me, I freeze. Unable to scream.Silence falls.
OnceOnce there was a person named Katie. Katie was a man. How dare you assume wrong.Once I new a Russian named Vlad. Vlad was a bear, like all Russians.Once a little boy stole my corn dog. He's not a boy anymore.
Last WordsMy last words will be "Fuck, why am I not regenerating?"
The WorldSome days you stop, and the world keeps going.
MuteI rip out my vocal cordsOne at a timeWith no disregard towardsThe blood and gore I'mGetting on my rotting palmsNo one cares anywaysThey wouldn't care if I was dropping bombsThey're too wrapped up in their own daysWhy make myself muteNow they can't hear me complainAbout my oh so very cuteAnd insignificant painNow they won't needTo suffer anymoreThey will be freedFrom me, only a constant sore
MessEverywhere I goEvery single placeThe troubles seem to growEvery smiling faceEventually frowns with woeWhy can't I doAnything rightI just screwUp everything despiteThe happiness I try to spewIs it meAm I the source of this acheDoes the pain flow freeIs this what I makePeople be?Should I go away and hideNever to see othersOr the outsideBut would I stop another'sPain and be the only one that ever criedWhat is a life with no greyWhen everyone is sadI'd give it all awayIt wouldn't be that badI would finally be able to sayI saved a life
Today, I cried.December 10th, 2012.Today I cried.I wasn't bullied today.Neither was I bullied yesterday.Nor am I going to be tomorrow.But I cried.Because I relived every moment.In.My.Diary.And that was enough.I succumbed to my emotions.Today I cried.I wasn't particularly weak today.Neither was I weak yesterday.Nor am I going to be weak tomorrow.But I cried.Because I relived every moment.In.My.Diary.And I'm not ashamed.I succumbed to my emotions.But... I'm not ashamed.Today I cried.And cried.And... cried.But that's just the way I am.Once in a while, you just need a good cry.To remind yourself of:the little emotion you have left.
Promises, promises...I talked to her today,It was brief, but it went okay.She seems sad still, but getting better,I'm glad about that, even if it makes me sadder.I talked to her yesterday too, tried to win her back,Didn't work, looks like we can't just go back.We agreed to not talk for a week you know, I was too weak for that though...I broke my promise, I hate to do it, but I have to sometimes,Anyone knows I don't break them, if they read my rhymes.Only reason we broke up was I wasn't selfish enough,So maybe it's a good thing I wasn't too tough.I still regret making, and breaking, that one last promise to her,I still really wish I could tell her, "I love you Jennifer."But no, I can't do that, I have to be keep quiet,I promised to, but of my promises, I am tired...
On Platonic LoveThat love is beautiful,The apple on the tree,Which endures every famine,Yet lets the apple be.That love is plentiful,The sea that hugs the shore,Which meets solely at the brink, Yet returns ever more.That love is contentful,The twine of You and Me, Which clasp our eternal strings,Yet ne'er to become We.
Still, Poets will DreamRun your fiscal scheme,Sell your soul away,Annex another day ,Still, poets will dream.Feed your mock regimeWith fiction and skein,Fable and fib again,Still, poets will dream.Doleful be the theme,Yet a winful sinIs but a sinful win,Still, poets will dream.Will poets still dreamBefore the end of time?Aye, there will be rhyme,Still, poets will dream.
on loving writerstalk to me like a childbut love me like a writer,love me unabridged,love me with all my footnotes,postscripts and appendixes.love me when i am alive at night,tangled thoughts keeping you awake,the sounds of my scribblingscratching in your ears.love me with all my imperfections,the ones that allow me to run awaywith my imaginationand the ones that franklyyou just can't stand.love me when i interrupt youto write something down,or when i stop listeningbecause my brain is running onmetaphors, not oxygen.i am sorry ornot sorry to tell you this,but i will keep writinguntil i run out of words(and then some)
Hell's AngelAll I need is an angel from hell,She's the only beauty who can control my desire,When she breaks the ice and kisses me with fire.I've been asleep for so long when I return to life,The cherubim of heaven will hear my soul yell.All I need is an angel from hell,She'll be my fair lady who will purge my regret,When she calms the thunder with tears she wept.I've been lost for all time but now I have no strife,The seraphim of heaven will ring out an immortal bell.All I need is an angel from hell,She can do no wrong when all I see is her honesty,When she slays the wind in those skies of piety.I've been alone for an eternity now she's my wife,The children of heaven will curse us: We of minds so fell.
What to live forIn this milestoneIt's turned me underI feel so aloneAnd for once I wonderI used to feel so aliveThrough the break up; I stood strongYet I fell astrideThe empty bliss; its too wrongScared again I trembleWhat do I live for?I walk and run, I stumbleI gaze at nothing like a shamed whoreNo inspirationThe stress's aggressionLead me to an uproarAs silent as the ocean shoreWill I soon find?Whatever, whoeverWill I run out of time?Everyone has a goal, where's mine?
Sonnet XVIWhen life smites me in its wavering courseAnd colder than winters my winters be,I look upon Woe with tearful remorseAnd wish he would bewail to comfort me.Yet, tears take a man, and a man aloneSuch is the nature of inner downpourAnd empty the foyer, vacant the throneWhen stormy seas conquer the untrained shore.Yet, while I speak to airy winds in verseMy rightful purpose I do once more find,And in frightful pleasure I bless my curseAnd to my life, whisper,"Thou art too kind".To every loved patron my word I give:Life's will be undone, for thee I shall live.
the secret of lost thingsan old book issomething like a dead grandmother;silent everywhere but in your mind
Sonnet VDear latent poet of this lifeless ageYou are truth's last infallible device,Though your work may remain an unseen pageVerity requires your watchful eyes.Alas! Your life may never shelter peace,Nay, peace seeks harborage in ignorance,But your days so filled with candid releaseAre truer than truth's own truthful penance.Imagine no wreaths, for you shall receive none,Save laurels of slander as truth's sole squire,And in life, none shall know of things you have done,Only to read your name 'neath the skyward spire.Yet that enemy time, will be your friendAnd past infinity truth will transcend.
After a Poetry CompetitionAfter a poetry competitionDuring poetry's decline,Sat many a wishful rhapsodistLoyal to the heroic line.The results were finally determinedAnd the winners called to stage,Applauded the groaning ceiling fansFor the Miltons of this age.Once in a while came a well known nameFollowed by much cheer and gloryAnd amidst another's razzle dazzle I heard a distant voice call me.And so I rose in the sudden lull,Unknown to all but my shadow,And strode onward to the far off daisAs the dabbing of palms did grow.And noticed I in that long walkTo collect what I had won,They who clapped the loudestHad been clapped for by none.
SorrowSorrow is lovingsomeone so much,But knowing youcan never have them.
Missing Youremember those days,so far but not too long ago,you're still the only girl,i tell myself i even wanna know,about a week feels like a month,a month to me's a year,but it remains clear,that i still want you right here.my dear,i miss the talking,the dreams of walking,into a place in the weather,and dancing together,day or night,now or never,as i write this,i feel so lost,because i haven't spoken to you,and iv'e faced the cost,i need the convo's,you're part of me,normally love go's,but not for you and me,so truthfully,so wishfully,your kiss to me,is bliss to me,it's twisted me,if you're missing me,then convincingly,we're meant to be.
My LifeMy life is sad, strange and kind of wonderful.