by on

I use to languish in the polygon of my weeping mind

I thirst for the fragments of my anguish to mold my center

I use to sulk inside myself and drink the wine of selfishness

I sunk my teeth into the dejection

I use to dwell in the camouflage and sink in my words

I swam in the black river under the oppression

I use to neglect faith and drown in the empty tear ducts

I fell into the depths of silence

I use to grieve in the awaken sadness and never sleep

I felt the last breath deceive me

I use to shed my dead skin in the morning to erase the gloomy nights

I carried a chain of misery

I use to gasp at the hollowness and gazed at the autograph

I refused to stare at the nemesis

I saw the signature and found it revolting

A transformation within shouted

by on

If I could run away

I’d join a flying circus

Chat with the lions

Chant with the crowd

Joke with the clowns

Dance with the acrobats

Crawl with the trapeze artists

Hide with the magician

Wrestle with the roar of the tiger

Walk with the Bear

Fall in love with the sideshow

Sit between the caramel apples

and the cotton candy

If I could run away

It wouldn’t solve any of my problems

Check out my books!

by on

Constantly disoriented

frozen whispers speak to me

A deep hunger

to be understood

An appetite

to be stirred by intimacy

No one cares

No one shows it

Efforts are fallen between

the cracks

No one hears me

No one listens

Distorted perception wakens

This is my canvas

Only a writer, a poet,

will gravitate to my words

To everyone else

I am not here

by on

No verses can disguise

the barbwire truth

Furious on the inside

Depression settles like dust

A intact plan merges

Ignoring my needs

Methodical and analytical

Reread the chorus

Every day was an opportunity

you threw away to show me

Nothing will prepare you

for what I’m about to do….

by on

Staring into the

desolate snow globe

watching my brittle

tears howl from the chair

Craving novacane for

my anorexic heart

Gravitating to the infection

that is soaking to

my sensitive past

Refusing to retrace

my footsteps of

Chestnut street

Tangled ghosts weave

through out my

strewed mind

Only to see a glimpse

of a debilitating disease

Concentrating on the

disappearing inner tyke

Becoming a nomad within

Placing my hands in my

ragged and faded jeans

trying to capture the light

of playing hopscotch

No matter how many times

I seek the clarity and purity

of my jagged youth

Chestnut Street is just a sign

on a ten foot pole

*Laurel has asked me to use this street name for the Challenge.

by on

The stench will never disappear. I sit here in agony replaying the years in my head. I stare into the pitch black and contemplating the decisions that I have made in my colorful life. I was a jester. I have discarded all the useful cards in the deck only leaving myself with only a few to hold in my tired hands. I steer away from the root. I run away from the tears that refuse to see the sun. I was the fool in believing in the word forever. You took me for granted. I took you for granted. You didn’t have the ability to own up in your own mistakes. You chose to be stagnant. I thought I was the infant in this relationship. I took my vows seriously. My heart is full of mush, layers of sensitivity, and the cream you find in the center of a donut. I wanted more. I craved depth. I took responsibility of my actions. I stumbled away shapeless seeking the truth. I am a lost soul. All I can see is a twinkling light. I will find my way out. If there is one thing I do well it’s being persistent. Nobody will tell me I can’t do something.

by on

Exchanging blows

Trouncing the integrity

Parading with clout

Testifying with a punch

Ruthless and cold

Clobbering with animosity

Losing perspective

Gaining self worth

Sitting on a Island

without a blanket of protection

Circling apathy

with loneliness on a death bed

Persecuting myself

Questioning my beliefs

Constantly defending my being

Slowly giving up to society’s views

by on

Beneath the clutter

and the discolored anxiety

the war between us continues

Engulfed by the

fractured promises

Gobbled up by the

untamed distance

Dwelling in the dusk

crawling through the

dark wild

Regurgitated phrases

of shades of love

Acknowledging the

hardened suffering

Stomaching the

patronizing goodbyes

Inhaling your desolate

and sinister perfume

Sucking and gulping

your mocking remarks

Withstanding your

arrogance and malicious core

Underneath the deceased

your stigma withers

by on

Ribs shook

Teeth chattered

A swig of Alligator Juice

Testing intestinal fortitude

Crying Esophagus

Liquid to soothe the deserted soul

Reviving the hostile lungs

Defining the edges and nerves

Overtaken by the emptiness

As he fills his stomach

with acidic Alligator Juice

by on

Pouring down overused mentalities

Change fumbling around

Pulling four quarters to insert

in the old fashioned jukebox

Numbers exchanged between

the mentalist and the statue

Between the shot glass

and the pint of a Irish stout

Scattered observations are slurred

Tip toeing through the cigar vapors

and the barking stilettos

Polluted with aggravation’s

and lipstick smudges on the glass

Empty barstools are playing violins

Loneliness waits for no one

Be careful where you drown

your heartache and sorrows

Look up at the glaring neon sign

The Bottomless crutch

by on

So much anger

So much bottled

So much frustration

So much repeating

So much carelessness

So much distance

So much ignoring

So much venom

So much contained

So much lost

So much wasted

So much avoiding

So much gone

So much feared

So much vile

So much excrement

So much confusion

So much