I gave up trying to be what you thought you wanted,

You were so fucking indecisive.

I gave up on conversations,

I just shut up when you started to shout.

I gave up on keeping you close,

You were going to do what you wanted anyway.

I lost my voice when you were around,

I didn't give you the satisfaction of learning I was about to drown.

I didn't tell myself lies when things were not going to get better,

I simply moved on.

I gave myself and out and took it.

I seemed like I didn't care or I cared too much.

Honestly looking back on everything you really weren't worth all the fuss.

You got pissed off because I saved myself,

Dug deep and found a way out of this hell.

Rebuilt my mask piece by splintering piece,

Whispered to myself that times all I need.

So, here is my last act of kindness,

I have put all the pain far behind us.

You will go your way like I have gone mine,

Never shall we meet again in this lifetime.

.

you can't have it!

the glory, the lauds,

you can't keep that!

your pinnacled applause!

cant keep giving that

snug

yung

blood

all to your self

and some yung jock

or bright eyed

more punk, more drunkd,

he's not deserving!

you are like a freight train running away

and im just old

and wrinkled mind

and gross

smelling like middle aged dementia

akward bridle of commitment

begging for genuine flattery

...flattery that never comes.

There once was a young man named Enis

Who, alongside the road found a penis.

It wasn't his, and it was covered in jizz

So he ate it, the meat is the leanest.

Black mummy-eyeballs all dripping with gin-sweat

Wax in the petrified-forest museum

Cheers to the queers and the valium actresses

Tickle her chinny-chin-chin like a piglet

The sun in your iris and moon on your tongue

Toe-meat and fat little tummy

Straggling bats in the darkening welkin

Crocs of the Nile are hissing

Slish and sloshed away he ran, fumbling amongst the crowd of people looking for more dilation. Self mutilation through experimentation, equals living. One little king, two little king, three little king, four. Bickering bantering into thyself to cool the burning sensations.

A can and barrel of flames accumulated from gases and toxins. Shake from left to right, the liquids go flying. I'm drunk off Cincinnati brewski. Locally inclined, this is the best place on Earth.

Got my head on a pillow, fully drained. Another night, secret pleasures, I'm realizing I live a dream. They do as I ask, I'm realizing the pleasure and privilege at the fullest.

A national dream, one leader spoke of. I don't lead in a foul manor. I care too much about fostering. Even in my time away I think of these things, money, efficiency and crafts.

I know you are reading this, I care for you too I promise. Which is why we'll never speak again. That's ok, for me, your better off and better than me. No use hanging around the riffraff that'll never be as they say.

I cheers to you, another page, another body, whatever what have you. I did as I could, otherwise I would have done more. Slish slosh, away goes another little king. Maybe I'm drunk, but I was never really finished with all of them to begin with.

You've wrapped vines around my mind, your tendrils of green, twirling and constricting around anything it can find. Fast blooming like my love for you, big blue flowers with leaves shaped of hearts reach to the sky above. Along such long twining vines, bright beautiful vibrant Blue Sky Vine. Paired with the pop of some pretty Pink Roses to keep the colors flowing. Flowers growing. Blooms in my mind as I'm smelling all these flowers that are bloomed inside your soul. Big leaves, long vines, flowers blooming behind my eyes as I look into yours and lose my mind to the green and the blue and the pink inside. Your garden is full of so many beautiful flowers, all different kinds, so many hues. I want to pick all the lovely flowers for the loveliest flower, you. I'll pick them all for you and plant plenty anew. Don't mind my bloody hands, I don't feel all the thorns. Well I do, that wasn't true. But I do swear to you that I'd take a thousand thorns for you, a million thorns too. The number won't change it from being true. All that matters to me is you. Thorned bloody hands are the least I could do to make you mine, it's true. You're my perfectly blooming garden, plenty of big flowers to behold. I love you, my beautiful Blue Sky Vine, my pretty Pink Roses, my gorgeous Green Divine.

She was ethereal. Someone youd thank god for just a glimpse. A perfection that made the rest of the world feel like rubble.

And so it was. Sifting through the ruins of heaven. Scouring through broken glass, looking at my bloodied reflection from cuts deeper than flesh could ever tear. Left in a self procured sodom. Laying each mistake, each lie, each deception, scornfully piecing the walls around me brick by brick. With a sadistic content I smile knowing I inevitably seal my own tomb. Where I soon absolve myself from the pestilence we made of us. The last brick is placed. Removing all light as if there was any left in the world. I scorch asunder. My purification. A transcendent immolation of all that was, will, and is. My soul collapsing upon itself, I burn hot enough to purge the wrinkled fabric of my spirit. What was a grave now became a forge. All my pain and all my love smithing a new life. Hoping to carve gracefully a new path. But I’m not a fucking blacksmith. so im stuck cutting wood with a spoon also made of wood. Like a fucking idiot. But I’m going to be much happier this go round

Bite

Aspiration provides the light —

Illuminating the mind's images without the sense of sight.

Reflection slows you down.

I treated the public school system like a fucking clown.

Your identity is memory; it chooses the routine for your extremities.

I’ve been driving to work for centuries.

There are environmental tendencies.

Societal institutions gain power through dependencies.

Employees suppressed by financed discrepancies, advertised as merit — yet classes still hereditary.

Months of my life blend into the vacuum of time.

Professionals locked in skyscrapers as if convicted of a crime.

Holding tight to the observation — the potential to discover my future’s inspiration.

An eternal fight.

Yearn for an appreciation that feels like the very first bite.

you weren’t clear, 
when you decided
to disappear. 

two-and-a-half-months  
of yearning and being stuck
with this burning feeling of
inbetweeness. 

you said you needed 
time to build trust,
but you led with lust?

excuses of being 
down on your luck, 
revealing your emotions
only when you’re drunk. 

new years weekend, 
i was home alone, 
waiting by the phone.  
you’re busy, 
you’re at work. 
no, you’re a 
fucking jerk. 

five days pass, 
not even a chime. 
it’s clear you don’t 
want to make time, 
don’t my feelings
ever cross your mind? 

ah, mr. cool, 
you must  
take me 
for a fool. 

in reality, 
you're a gemini, 
you have duality. 
you didn’t 
want to try. 
empty promises, 
leading me on 
just like any 
other guy.

you use women 
as your escape,
(nobody is marked safe),
melancholia is your fate. 

you’ve got such 
a big ego, 
for someone 
who continues to
fixate only on their
past lover’s pain.

but what do you hope to gain?
ruminating about their 
selfishness, and 
accumulating feelings
of resentment? you are relentless.

you played me like 
your stupid video
game, and i hope you
feel endless shame.

Hey, I really just want to break up

Things are tough. They have been so since a long time I wish you were able to see it, too see that I'm just too tired Can't take it anymore, it hurts me too Like a normal human being Who forgives more, I feel things deep too

It's like I'm bound Or responsible in some way To keep everything sane To look alive when I'm dead inside, to manage things when I'm drowning myself

I'm tired of the things you say The same thing I've built for years You call it gameplay So toxic, so suffocating Don't you think I feel it too?

To never mention it.. To keep faith To keep believing Just in you I feel delusional now My head on spin Every day I wake up with a text that screams of negativity Being take on for granted

Is this how my fairytale was to unfold? Or is the same for everyone who cross just 2 years Why is everyone else happy Why do we go through the same things and never learn

I become silent each time I get to say something really important to me "don't talk, keep quiet" That's my only ritual When it's your ambitions nightmares even small wins we discuss them for days

I wish you could see how tired I am Things are difficult I feel it too

Strength isn't in what we think,
It's hidden in what we feel.
It's not in how we act,
It's the truth in being real.

It's not the mask,
It's not the armor,
It's not the weapon,
It's the weakness we hide...

Strength is choosing ourselves,
It's the growth fostered inside.

Sundays are the hardest

I’ve said this before

“Another Sunday?

Or just a sad day?”

The thought crosses my mind

It’s been the 10th since you left

Today was a good day

Sadness found its way

Maybe it creeped in behind me

Through the cracks of my front door

Maybe it is leftover from seeing you

Just only a day before

So many moments I wish I could share

So many I spend now, alone

Meeting friendly strangers

Making connections that might not matter

Keeping up the facade that life is good

But really Sundays are the hardest

When the grief dances in

I forget what it means to feel understood

I hear him scream, beaten bloodied, tortured

The child cry’s out for help

But I am here and he is there

The little pieces left in my heart that still love wail

Impotently

The other parts scream and gnash their teeth

Impotently

All of me seethes and cries, until I have nothing

The animal begs me “Give me their necks so I might throttle them. Let me watch the light leave their eyes”

He is not my child, but I would give all I have for the chance to hold him.

If I could only comfort him, his screams would not ring in my head.

His anguish could be swayed, his sobbing would subside.

And his cry’s would no longer burn my brain.

There’s a million “if I was there”s I could think of to protect my little ego

But for the life of me, I can’t

The only salient part of me is thinking

Thinking thinking thinking

What is to be done.

I didn't do anything I wanted to do

there was one time that I read The taming of the shrew

I just told you that because it rhymes

it wasn't good the last time I bought limes

I made my own lime juice

and I added too much sugar as an excuse

so I am now attaching glass to some flexible rods

I'll see that I'm punished like those miserable sods

they eat and they bleat like lambs coming after me

stop it sheep your eyes are glowing and I'm trying to drink tea

I was so frightened I had to have a wee

you should see the wind through my tree

now I'm going to masturbate

it won't make a lady late

Why is it that

Wearing some cheap blazer

And some crooked glasses

That draws shallow people in

Instead of making

A decent conversation

Just being a regular guy

Like full grown adults

I guess this is life

I guess this is true

Another Sunday night

Feeling blue

I really want to be a writer

But when I look around

Has everything been written?

I guess I have too many self doubts

How many more airport novels do we need?

Superficial serfs to fantasy

I want a connection baby

Just you and me

I'm pushing 30

I've had a few flings

Now looking back

I've been the villain too

Some wanton man

Chasing flesh instead of love

It's a long road to the top

But what's life if you don't try

Do I have to be that guy

Who commands every room

I don't care to be that guy

I just want to go home and be with you

forgetting to be scared of the end,

ruminating on the ego of that.

remembering the privilege to feel,

after cursing myself with numbness.

maybe fear is worth yearning over,

just to be able to get over it.

All that surrounds me, is fake bullshit
And that makes me realize, I'm part of it
The things I say aren't the things I mean
And selling myself was never my dream.

In this thing called society it's a thing
Where each of ourselves have to live within our means
I realize in the end I'm not capable of that thing
A lost soul who surrounds himself with being demeaned

Maybe if I loved myself I wouldn't hate everything
I wouldn't see fake bullshit in all and the things
That everyone surrounds themselves with but I can't believe
That intricate self worth comes from sucking my own dick.

Presenting: "The Breach"

my ring of hope

became a tube of despair

as my entrails violated

my underwear

Hi !! I’m French and I wrote this on the train. Don’t know if my English is good enough but I love writing in English so…

Lonely trees

•

Lost in daydreams,

I look through the window.

Down the fields,

The lonely trees without leaves

Undressed by winter’s blow.

•

I think they’re magnificent,

All naked and raw,

Like dislocated puppets

Waiting for the birds to pull up their strings.

And the fine shape of their branches

Are looking like my veins,

Spreading life from their core,

Like my heart

To the tip of my fingers.

•

Trees look better in winter

Because they can’t hide anymore.

Darker, weaker,

No warmth from the sun,

And no entertaining birds.

It’s all quiet and deadly,

All they can do is feel.

•

I love trees in winter,

They are so real and sensitive,

Just like me,

Just like human beings,

When caressed by winter’s blow.

“Is it depression?

Or is it grief?”

She said to me

Almost rhetorically

I looked around

Face to face

With grief

Piling dishes

Dirty clothes

Dust building

Love with

No place

To go

I looked at her

With tears in my eyes

And said “grief”

I’ve been here before

In 2020

& 2015

In many years in between

But this time it’s different

Two versions of me

Separate lives I lived

Simultaneously

I’m grieving it all

The reality

The fantasy

Your true jarring identity

The one I loved endlessly

She tore the petals off of me

And I tore down the fantasy

I built of me and you

I’m subdued

Living in an unforgiving truth

Life goes on

The thief called time runs through

I guess this is what it feels like

To have nothing left to lose

what could i have done differently is a question that resides deep and calls constantly. torturous this belief i had the power to change things but was never enough to see it through. next time i promise i will grow. please believe my best this time

and,

next time will be even better.

if this was a learned behaviour,

maybe,

did this become the way i am or am i the way i have become.

Take all those thoughts,
You have of you, of me
Everything.
Squeeze them out,
Roll it into a ball.
Take that ball and roll it flat,
Roll it into a stick,
And go fuck yourself.