Posted: May 14, 2013 in Poetry
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And suddenly you are reminded of
how much you dislike people when you are
caught alone In the middle of crowded
rooms. The noises increase to discomfort
and uncertainty. When the whispers don’t
seem to subside, like chalk scraping on a
blackboard, the voices thick and deep in the
air and you can’t catch your breath that has been caught
in your chest. So much regret, too much fear
you’re lost, don’t understand, hunched over in
tears. Can’t stop, door’s closed, too far to make out.

It stops. Complete and utter silences.

Quick and jolting, reality sets in.
It surrounds you slowly In waves as the
realization kicks in. Dull murmurs,
a steady heart, vision un-blurry, not
alone in the middle of crowded rooms
but you are simply coinciding.

Minimum Wage Slaves

Posted: May 12, 2013 in Poetry
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We are hunched over backs with weary hands
and sweaty brows with sore bulging muscles,
our sleepless eyes furrowed with exhaustion.
Toiling long hours, and many countless days,
every day’s work barely worth the pay.

With tired feet and aching limbs we tend
to every others’ whim. We are proud and
we are spirits that are not yet broken.
Humble, willing, modest and true. We are
the many, the strong: minimum wage slaves.


Posted: May 9, 2013 in Poetry
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Well, I haven’t been on in quite awhile. Other than just being in a creative slump and not being on here, I may as well leave off where I stopped.


Just want to run

Till I collapse to the floor.

Keep on going

Till I can’t anymore.

Don’t know where I’m going,

Not sure where I’ve been,

Don’t know if I’ll ever

Figure out how this will end.

What frightens you?

Posted: November 4, 2012 in Uncategorized
Tags: ,

What makes the hair on your arms rise,
Your palms sweat, your breath catch
In your chest like a wild thing caged?
Is it the dark? A fleeting memory of
A bedtime story, ghosts and goblins
And witches hiding in the shadows?
Is it the way the wind picks up
Just before a storm? The hint
Of wetness in the air?

Or is it something deeper?
Something much more frightening.

A monster deep inside that
You’ve only glimpsed in pieces,
The vast unknown of your own soul
Where secrets gather with terrible powers,
The dark inside.

Posted: November 1, 2012 in Poetry

While thy heart weeps, a cloud of fog shrouds thy

precious flower; and it soon wilts. Further

into the fog, it bursts into hot flames.

Henceforth from this moment, I shall say to

thee to never feel pain or misery,

only to be showered with the ray of

gleaming hope. May the withered be renewed

from its ashes, to grow into the brightest light,

to be a beacon; be merry again.

Sing the Sorrow

Posted: October 17, 2012 in Poetry
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Sad song please go away,
Your melody is enchanting.
You sing my pain and drown it,
While adding fuel to my fire,
With only tears that may drown this.

You draw me in
With guitar notes so pleasing.
Like an incantation of a spell
Hidden in the metronome
Of your steady beats.

A voice so silky
It wraps me into your arms
So warm and welcoming.
Yet it taunts me,
Haunting me with
My own interpretation.

Sad song
I beg of you to leave,
Let go of me,
Or rather,
Allow me to
Let go of you.

Inverted Reality

Posted: October 10, 2012 in Poetry

Can you hide emotion behind your eyes?

do you feel it, like the heat radiates

from inside me? Is it contagious like

a disease without a cure? Can you sense

it, is it obvious there’s tears behind

here? This mask: I wear it and yet it’s clear,

you cannot see. I hide it too well, there’s

nothing you sense from my internal hell.


I want to write something happy, like a

Beautifully entrancing  picture that

0ne cannot stop staring at. Something that’s

so wondrous that it takes your breath away.

Not like a warrior at battle, but

more emotional amazement, like

The soldier has just returned home with a

Warm fuzzy feeling and a warm drink. You’re

snuggled up close with your favorite thing

on a cool, winter’s eve.  Perhaps this is

More like a dream than reality where

I’m not sad anymore. No more feeling

inside. Numb, yet somehow emotional,

though not quite sure what that feeling is. Not

sad, just empty. Every little thing gets

to me. Everyone that talks to me just

makes me angry. No one ever really

understands how I feel. Then again, I

don’t really either. There’s too much to say

with not enough time to show what I mean.

There’s too many things I want to convey,

But don’t know how to show it. So I

stay silent. There are only so many

words you can cut before they start to bleed.