5 0 5


  Self-creation, from
                        And the
becomes a target-

Breaking, this
concrete synapse
is impossible,

  Self-creation, from

13 0 13



this life is a pawn shop.

we all bring ourselves to

the table, showing off

that which we feel makes us

most valuable.

we're all a little bit

beat up and used,

but none of us really believe

that we've lost all our value.

this life is all about

trying to determine

who agrees enough to

buy into us.

5 0 5


Big bad wolf won’t take
the swelling lungs to heart,
and a bad one at that-

Track marks state-lines long,
coast to coast: waiting, always
waiting for the final boast
from the dressed in red charlatan,
with wire taps on the crooked ties
that smoke by the pack.

Fairy tales died before
my blood boiled
at the sight of naked flesh,
and seeking a pound
without reason, is spun
fabric from dreams.

7 0 7

Again, For The First Time

There are
that grow where 
only sunlight abides, where 
there is no air
to feed 
the lungs of an admirer
just passing through.
There are fields,
lush with wheat,
where the golden hue of 
is muted, 
and where violent winds
over and between stems,
like legs, stand
powerless to move
what is planted.
There exists only a terarium,
filled with treasures
starved of vibrance.
Tap on the glass,
wish for safe entry.
Scream to the world
that such beauty should be 
admired, held, and nurtured.
Cry tears like rain,
and let them slowly 
the boundaries.
Show, to the unloved,
that there is no distance
too far,
no barrier
I have walked
three thousand miles,
carrying flowers 
that have only known my light, 
listening to their pleas
for a taste
of your breath 
and dying, 
to know your touch.
I have plucked a bouquet,
and stand knee high
in fields of stilled wheat,
the best parts of me
in order to move you.
Your beauty 
weakens me at the knees,
so think fast and
open your heart.
Find the strength 
within you
to take a walk through 
the glass, through 
barriers erected to 
protect my heart
from thieves.
Claim what you own,
smile wide, and
let your kiss be the key.

8 1 7

Novels I Never Got Around to Reading but Wanted To.

This post is not available to guests, please login or register to view this post.
1 0 1

This Bitter Cold ...

The bitter cold bites me in the arse

temperature drops the ten inch mercury,

I shivered as time stood still

The air dead frozen, muffing my ears.


Sun shining high up in the sky

its so called warmth told us lies,

I see no clouds and I highly doubt

that Winter will be nice to us.


As I sit my lazy arse on my bed

covering myself with all the blankets,

No warmth was given

but I fight on, Living

for another day.

8 0 8

the sky was the
color of old
steel and it
made us cling
to the hopes
that sunshine would
come one day,
but tears from
angles unseen fell
as we said goodbye
to the time you had left-