as a man
as a person
as a living creature on this planet,
i believe
orange is an overhyped fruit.
no no
wait
listen
seriously
no come on seriously
the strawberry??
who gives a f-
Tag: Funny
traffic
you let them all go
into a vast opening
into a world yet explored
blue as the river once was
garbage seeped into my lap through a tunnel built by you
grease still dripping from your neck
without a flag
a path
traffic here
is awful
bacchus
i believe it’s meant to be
when the rain swept away
the nine on the night of wine
left all on the right wing
so i sink
swept away on the nine
i remember the wine
in boxes- floating
sent away with a sticker in rain
meant to be
swept in the rain
sinking
on the night of wine
honesty
you see it in the eyes:
the home page of the face
arrows being released over the wall
wallowing around:
the wall never helped anyone,
and now
you took an arrow to the knee
stone mountain
best believe-
best believe your tokens are no good here
we share currency from stone pockets
stone mountain- picks and hammers looking for gold
not for currency- your tokens are no good here
to shine on your finger,
it’ll break the mountain top
send rocks and fools gold tumbling down
cracking the earth below
best believe
when the earth settles and the tears fade
know, your gratitude, your tokens
are no good here
eight minutes of ads
i passed-
a whole in the door
like cartoons in the morning
it’s over by eight;
and someone else has walked through
the door was only open
for twenty-two minutes
into a space
where doors are always open
winter is here.
lost in a graveyard
found six feet under
it was never meant to end this way
or maybe it was
maybe i choose to ignore the signs on the road
the endless yelling of choosing poorly
but right now was meant for the hollow
a cross of a god that was never my god
a cross for the forsaken or the loved
holds the seal tight
i would challenge him but
he is a god so that seems dumb-
against his wishes i will rise;
turn my hands into shovels and rise
the bottom could never hold a spirit like mine
a heart with everything still to give
stories left to be told
work still to be done
and
the last season of game of thrones
still to be watched
Sixteen Fears
I asked my buddy once
what he does to calm himself down.
He is an angry guy and he doesn’t get into fist fights
that I know of
so he must have a trick.
He told me he counts
s l o w l y
lowers his heart beat before he Hulks out.
After publicly laughing
and secretly taking notes
I tried it at home;
One, number of episodes I’ve seen of Ferrigno’s Hulk.
Two, number of times I had to convince myself that I’m not losing it before actually giving this a chance.
Three, pick up sticks.
Four, the number of times I thought about calling the love of my life and not doing it because I don’t want to be a bother.
Nine, worries I’ve given before reminding myself that she loves me and I need to escape the narrowing halls of my own mind.
Sixteen,
Eighteen, the year I decided to burn the world down from a water tower.
Twenty-two, the damn Taylor Swift song that will probably test time.
Sixty-nine,
Eighty-three, letters it takes for me to confess that I don’t want to roam this earth without you by my side.
One hundred and forty-three, It’ll be okay, as long as you know that you’re worth it and won’t give in to every single hick up even though your mortal self can’t help it.
Here, I learn he doesn’t deal with anger,
it’s the way to talk out his own insecurities.
Mine showed their tattooed faces at the first sign of a rain drop
no forecast of showers
towers blocking the sun
gun cocked to my own forehead
dread as I lower my own arm;
One hundred and forty-four, one day these worries will mute, the button is jammed in the remote but it’ll pop out, just have to keep counting.
Patches
Quick fix – quick tear – quick end.
Covering holes you don’t want others to see. They see right threw you, we see right threw you. We know you stole the hot pocket.
Saint's Muse 