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.
Pain
Loneliness on a Death Bed

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
Forgotten Riddle

Disregard
the aroma of the carousel
Disregard
the unforgettable thirst
Disregard
the saturating hunger
Disregard
the mist in your tone
Disregard
the fears that dwell inside
Disregard
the yearnings you bury
Disregard
the cravings you once had
Disregard
the sarcasm in this riddle
Disregard
the awakening of the tension
I am accepting
that you continue to disregard me
Barbwire Sessions

Untamed and unforgettable
Ripple effect spreads like a disease
Lip licking and chomping
Like a wounded dog without a collar
Even your shadows cry
All you do is scratch
Tick tock…
Chasing traumatized winds
Clotheslined by barbwire
A feared and reckless beast
Gnawing at my insides
Even your skin is distasteful
All you do is claw
Tick tock…
Crippling my essence
Ruthless and disturbing you crawl
A relentless bitch
Foaming at the mouth
Even your tears want to run from you
All you do is manipulate
Tick tock…
You won’t know what hit you
Trampled Feelings Pass (Braeden’s Writing Challenge #2)

Goodbye desolate shivers
Goodbye forgotten aches
Goodbye swallowed tears
Goodbye opaque walls
Goodbye erratic fears
Goodbye discarded pages
Goodbye to a dark clown’s frown
Goodbye to a lightless mirage
Goodbye to my lost and last words
Goodbye to the faceless sun
Goodbye meaningless friendships
Goodbye somber passions
Goodbye sensitive heart
Goodbye drowning memories
Goodbye deep blue sky
Goodbye unread poetry
Goodbye Trampled Feelings Pass
Vulnerably Harsh

On the outside of the glass
Aphorisms ringing like a bell
Insensitivity weaves a cobweb
Vulnerability trapped in a
medical syringe
Harshness spoken with a sterile
and violent tongue
Commanding and demanding
Blatant and in bright lights
Waterworks flowing like a creek
Hearts awaken and cringe
An awkward silence creeps
Hoping love seeps through the cracks
seeking a mysterious ocean
Apocalyptic Words
Furious waves are dying. The gentleman in me is fading like a light. You carve out the tension and slowly I am denied. The more you take the less of me you receive.
You are not who you advertised. I remain calm as I construct a devious plan. I hold the wind in my hand. I have a defense. I made sure the world knows. Apocalyptic and cryptic I will speak. Repeating my words is not a option.
You use the word love but don’t show it. You use words you don’t express. The storm in this jungle has elevated to a hurricane. Patience is running thin. You love the image. You love the facade. You don’t love me. Say it. Admit it.
Dark Wild
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
Defining Moments #1

I will never forget the day I moved back home . I will never forget the sentence that broke my heart. “You will never set the world on fire.” The chip on my shoulder just became bigger. Perhaps he is just a realist. Perhaps he saw his son average. I’m not saying he didn’t know how to love and care. I’m not saying he was a bad father but I would NEVER tell that to my son.
Little boy the message here is that you can be what you want to be. You are going to make choices I probably won’t agree with at the moment but the belief in you won’t disappear. I want to do something that my father didn’t do, just understand you. Please don’t be afraid to open up. I don’t want to be a critical spirit like him and put your thoughts under a microscope. Your father is a writer at heart and doesn’t have support from those who I thought would support. I stand alone. You will never stand alone.
Alligator Juice

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
Sorrow’s Lyrics
Crinkled stars
Above all the broken hearts
Lost in direction
Hope is found
On the frozen ground
Losing its affection
The pieces are missing
Dandelions are kissing
My world is aching
I want what she has
I want it just as bad
I want something breathtaking
Could you play a melody
and add another verse
Could you play a guitar
to remove all the hurt
The Bottomless Crutch

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
Blinding Light
I never saw
the heart strings you pulled
I never saw
the lies you borrowed
I never saw
the bedroom disguise
I never saw
the contamination
I never saw
your buried intentions
I never saw
the light on the center stage
I never saw
the script you wrote
I never saw
the truth revealed
I never saw
love drip from your lips
I never saw
this moment ever arriving
I never saw
you imagining you could walk away
I never saw
you so terrified and scared
I never saw
you using me
Spit On

I altered my perception
and I got spit on
I appreciated someone’s art
and got tossed to the curb
I stand here misunderstood
and the sensitivity got ripped
I’m not surprised
Their perception never changed
Burnt Memories Street (Braeden’s Writing Challenge #2)

Strolling down
Bleeding Havoc Lane
Counting the
shattered porch lights
Awakened by the
mountains of trash
Recognizing the last
names on the mail boxes
Falling aluminum siding
Mesmerized by the
paint chips
Boarded up windows
Awkward silence
Desolate skeletons
in the mourning closets
Tortured furniture
is howling at midnight
Roots below the ground
remain pessimistic
Only whiskey pours
from the ancient faucets
Slowly I pull up to the
street sign
Eyeing up the tape covering
the name
Tearing it off like it’s a sore
underneath
Burnt Memories displayed
Mayhem and Wreckage

Spastic clutter
Opening up a can of debris
Mixed up predicaments
A compilation of distress
Walking into turmoil
Gazing at a eyesore
A mayhem of selfishness
Mishmash of ideals
Seeking light in the wreckage
Tripping on hindrances
Overlooking headaches
Disoriented from the gospel
Ignoring the theorems
Forever searching the self
Wounded and Numb
I’m a wounded prize,
Laced up in bitterness.
I’m a lethal injection,
Trapped in a empty bottle.
I’m a bullet from a war,
Only shot through my veins.
I’m a discarded black heart
Only seen in the shadows.
I’m the venom from the rattlesnake
Only to swallow with salt.
I’m a chill on my own spine
Only to stop from being numb.
Cup of Dirt

Choking on self served dirt
Prancing in your delicate castle
Bantering with the jester
High regards as a princess
Pointing at the fabric
stonewashed character
Keep sipping on your ideals
Seeking hidden agendas
Removing the plastic
Only glancing not seeing
Interpretations of nothing
Creating a plate of something
Keeping sipping the cup of dirt
Creeping Coldness Drive (Braeden’s Writing Challenge #2)

Soaked in a frigid soliloquy
A bandage of icicles
around my fragment
and ruptured heart
Stuck in neutral in
Creeping Coldness Drive
like a drowning widow
Dangling a torch
above a mile away
from my frozen
barely pumping heart
Carrying winter chains
Gasping for air
Neon needles probing
to keep the remains alive
Please put the key
in the old ignition
and put it in drive
Bricks of Light

In this reflective light I couldn’t see your enigma
In this reflective light I couldn’t see your
dark wild
And the bricks stack up
In this reflective light I couldn’t see your
shades of gloom
In this reflective light I couldn’t see your
leaves twist in your tiring wind
And the bricks stack up higher
In this reflective light I couldn’t see your
blinding aggravation
In this reflective light I couldn’t see your
scorching tragedy
And the bricks surround me





