who needs the world?

The sun’s always been too harsh for my eyes

Today I welcome the pain that it brings

It’s inviting me back to the human condition

Which suit shall I choose to put on?

Apart or among, it will never suffice

My companion is a half broken vision

Eyes filled by one’s spectrum

Can’t make out roads ahead

So they crumble 

Overwhelmed by ambition

blame

ive traveled entirely too far to have wound up ashore

too far to be waist deep facing the fall

i spoke to a devil

he told me he’d be here

my mark had been missed by a mile

he said it wasn’t my fault

a libido of ambition

a lust after acceptance

these he would snatch from my soul

just meet him here 

on this shore for dead dreams

where’s the raft?

where’s the vessel? 

Charon’s never this late

won’t he take my deceased from me 

for my loved ones aren’t real

my dead neither sleep nor breathe

mayflies

 

how do they dance like that?

the mayflies I mean

glancing the waves; their lover’s eyes

do you think they know they’re a metaphor?

what other purpose could they serve

food for a bigger beast?

that’s not a life

merely an existence

what other purpose could we serve?

this is not a life

I will not be some literary device

the devil says not to worry

the pantheon concerns itself not with us

our purpose shant be glanced 

save by those few

those few who examine the mayfly

those few who know they aren’t gods

step right up

 

“couldn’t you have, at least, acted like you weren’t disappointed?  were you expecting the whole carnival from a single clown?  i can’t pull a giraffe from my ass when you get bored of my juggling. plus, i’m the best goddamned juggler you’re gonna happen upon.  that’s what clowns do.  they juggle. what else can I do besides that? well not much.  that’s all ive ever been asked to do.  WAIT WAIT.  i’m just clowning around. heheh get it?  of course I can do more than juggle.  ummm…. you wanna…. you wanna watch me walk the tightrope?  yeah, of course ive done it before…. don’t laugh too hard if I fall. HAHAHAHHA.”  he’s laughing now because he wont be soon.  he will be dead.  for your amusement.

there’s a cat scratchin up my shorts

 

right now, this shit’s trippy

I hope it always stays that way

the normal way gets you nowhere

the normal way gets you the same place as everyone else

which is depressing

 

I must stray from treaded paths

been down your road less traveled 

and found it wanting

too many people have been down it still

 

be I a pioneer or a pilgrim

I will walk the ground I raze 

for I and I alone

you can go behind me 

but not in front

this is the place I was meant to walk
 

*obligatory poem named after a girl         

 

My last chance for peace

And my first shot at love

Coincided with my own dismantling 

 

The unfolding commenced 

As she stood there and chuckled

Her laugh couldn’t be more enchanting

 

With joy she reached forward

hand grasped round that torch

Whose flame was of myth and of legend

 

For ages it blazed 

While I fought back the night

Its existence eternal was destined

 

Well destiny be damned 

Alongside happiness too

Virtues never kept me alive

 

When my psyche is fragile

And its sole hope is crumbled

You can’t blame me for wanting us to die

 

flames burned eternal

Now hurling through the sky

Destined for the post where Im tied

 

My hands bound behind me

I would meet death head on

His scythe I would swallow with my pride

 

Don’t feed me your bullshit

You can’t know what I feel

How could someone like that ever care?

 

Cause he won’t stay there forever

He won’t see what he has

He will drop you when you’re unaware 

 

My last chance for peace

And my first shot at love

Both died with my unfulfilled dreams

 

The ember touched down and

The kindling ignited and

The flames licked across my bare feet

apathy

 

this is number forty-five.

how many more will come before one is heard?

I’m just not feeling it today.

whatever I pen will be just as empty and worthless as I believe it to be

and today I believe that I’m shitty.

I believe that my art can’t transcend anymore 

“maybe it never has.”

what I’m constantly told.

never directly.

they’re all too nice for that, 

but I catch glimpses,

I see the stats,

I understand your implications.

they don’t have to tell me.

I know.

they wont hear me.

they’ll never even know that I can speak.

it doesn’t matter what you think

 

they think I should probably 

believe in something

I am unsure if I can

the truths of my first foundation

what was peddled to me

by those meant to guide

were rooted in 

blissful ignorance

oh how I both miss 

and despise 

the thought of it

restlessness and hardship 

are that which befall 

those who stay wake at night 

to learn the wonders and horrors 

of our world

while those without ambition 

turn off their minds 

to soak in the dark.

tell me

who is the god 

between these two

it cant be either

it had better not be

they think I should probably 

believe in something

“not so long as lovers lie” 

says I 

the heart of another 

past times ive smothered 

just to watch them wilt and die

but not forgetting 

the times before untold 

where I died a thousand times.

titans

 

there’s a clean divide in the sky

evil infects the clouds

taking the form of sunbursts

who told you the rays

were there to invigorate us

they bring with them, responsibility

and responsibility breeds panic 

at least for me

exactly how they say it shouldn’t be

take pride in and enjoy

the hardships life brings your way

these help you grow

these help make you who you are

and I’ve grown into a mess

and they’ve left me that way

stronger isn’t exactly the word

I would use to describe where

I’m at as a person 

happiness doesn’t come 

from sunsets and butterflies

contentment is found in

the rain, the storm, the monsoon

life makes more sense when

I’m sinking down and soaking wet

like the doom I’ve awaited 

is finally arrived

pre-destiny has caught up 

to its most evasive prey

so the clouds will clash 

three stacks

 

take a minute

everyone of you is rushin

and not the type that Vladimir 

considers to be bussin

flush em

beat their face in 

till their cranium is gushin

they’ll wake up in the hospital

just feelin that concussion 

I may 

know nothing

but violence is distgustin

judging scuffin shovin

forgoing the discussion

adjustin

to the ways in which

they keep us each from bustin

out the 

front door 

repercussions of cold war

world lookin for a mentor 

Schueler used a full restore

stand for 

whatever

doesn’t matter in the end

as long as you’ve got someone

you can tell them is your friend

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