stranger's disease

"i wish i believed you when you said that this was my home"

11/30/14

 

thoughts about graduating

it's true,
i had time to fix it but i think
i was too scared to stop
waiting for the future to happen.
all my life i wanted to take
the teen years by storm,
and now they are gone.
i don't feel like i've wasted my time,
but the feelings have changed,
i can't sing,
can't dance,
can't write,
or say what i feel.
i don't understand
why i spent so much time
with people who have hurt me
repeatedly.
i shouldn't have been me to
become who i am today,
sure.
probably 12 yo me
is still crying in the corner.
it took me five years to
learn how not to cry.

it's true,
i could've been so much
more than i am.
i haven't tried to be invincible
and mom is proud of that.
but am i?

guess this life has
just begun.
at least i haven't started
smoking yet.

Labels: , , , , ,


11/28/14

 

drunk poetry slam at 2:00

its like you talk to
me like you knew what
went on in my life but
you've barely scratched the surface;
talk drunk talk too much
but i still say what
i want to say
because i dont know
anybody like you
and the ones i dont know
are dead inside.
i want to go home before
i kneel down in surrender.
take me back to your
rusty hands,
i miss you.
fuck,
i do.
but will you ever
stop pretending to love me?
pretending to be drunk
is my best quality
i never fail
(sometimes i
dont distinguish
reality though)

Labels: , ,


11/25/14

 

long shots; not pints

there is a young disinterest
in the way you curve your back
or the way your neck bends
backwards when you laugh.
victim of chance, you keep on
taking shots in the dark.
and also taking shots
of crystal which will burn
us out,
I wonder how many times
you have been out,
out in cold alleys screaming
that the system will run
down on us.

(sometimes I consider
how much we are alike
but every trace
leads to nothing.)

there still so much in you
I haven't seen.
so much I can't reach.
there is so much I wanted to ask
about your life.
the people who talk
the less say the most sometimes.

there is a place
inside my head
I always go
but if I open up
I may fall
I'm scared I don't want this again
especially if there is no chance
you will feel the same.

now we'll be gone
part like total strangers.
because that is what school
does to us:
makes us strangers
monsters,
or ghosts.

guess you are
another long
shot?

Labels: , , , ,


11/13/14

 

To L.L. (Extract), Oscar Wilde

Well, if my heart must break
   Dear love, for your sake,
It will break in music, I know
   Poets' hearts break so

But strange that I was not told
   That the brain can hold
     In a tiny ivory cell
God's heaven and hell.

Labels: , ,


11/9/14

 

what we carry

I'm sorry lover
but we have no skin.
we shred apart
with any moving step.
it's magical; mystical
how we can't get to know
each other.
behind this torn skin
I carry stories.
you carry blank canvases.
I'm scared of changing
you in all of the wrong places.
our hands feel like rust;
I pick the scabs of the past
that won't heal.
when I wanted to disappear
there was a subtle touch
of dry lips
and I breathed in.
now I have to rethink
my choices.
you're my test.
I'm your teacher.

the story repeats itself.

Labels: , ,


11/7/14

 

seriously now

I'm scarless;
(indestructible,
infinite
strong.)

and I was never hurt
because I never let anyone
get near me-

flick your fingers
and watch me
d
  i
   s
    s
     a
      p
       p
        e
         a
          r

 

i'm tired

guess what came up-
I'm full of hate!

for a second I wondered why,
why would I feel so filled with rage.

it makes sense,
it does,
it does.

I try to fight it
but I only end up hating
myself.

I am infected
by a plague.
it's spreading,
it will spread.

honestly?
I never much wondered
why I felt sympathetic
towards sociopaths

guess I might
be one too.

Labels: , ,


11/6/14

 

november 6th, thursday

Read more »

Labels: , , , ,


11/1/14

 

styrofoam boots / it's all nice on ice, alright

well all's not well
but i'm told that it'll all be quite nice
you'll be drowned in boots like Mafia
but your feet will still float like Christ's
and i'll be damned
they were right
i'm drowning upside down
my feet afloat like Christ's
i'm in heaven
trying to figure out which stack
they're going to stuff us atheists into
when Peter and his monkey laugh
and i laugh with them
i'm not sure what at
they point and say
we'll keep you in the back
polishing halos, baking manna and gas
well some guy comes in looking a bit like everyone i ever seen
he moves just like crisco disco
breath 100% listerine
he says looking at something else
but directing everything to me
ever time anyone gets on their knees to pray
well it makes my telephone ring
and i'll be damned
he said you were right
no one's running this whole thing
he had a theory too
he said that god takes care of himself
and you of you
it's all nice on ice alright
and it's not day
and it's not night
but it's all nice on ice alright

Labels:


Archives

January 2013   February 2013   March 2013   April 2013   May 2013   June 2013   July 2013   August 2013   September 2013   October 2013   November 2013   December 2013   February 2014   March 2014   April 2014   May 2014   June 2014   July 2014   August 2014   September 2014   October 2014   November 2014   December 2014   January 2015   February 2015   March 2015   April 2015   May 2015   June 2015   July 2015   August 2015   September 2015   October 2015   November 2015   December 2015   January 2016   February 2016   March 2016   April 2016   May 2016   June 2016   July 2016   August 2016   September 2016   October 2016   November 2016   December 2016   January 2017   February 2017   March 2017   April 2017   May 2017   July 2017   August 2017   October 2017   November 2017   December 2017   January 2018   February 2018   March 2018   April 2018   May 2018   June 2018   July 2018   August 2018   September 2018   October 2018   November 2018  

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?