Poems.

We are far apart Further apart than the planets are to each other but your gravity keeps me in orbit

I want to be free

Shoot me off into the distance Let me explore the stars. My gravity is a force of its own Keeping me stable No direction

I can’t be your planet anymore You can’t be my sun

I will change because I don’t have you anymore I will change because I won’t have your heat

I want to see you in the distance further and further away further than the galaxy can hold

Time will pass

Love is what you want it to be.  It’s what wakes you up in the morning It’s what helps you sleep at night It’s what keeps my heart beating, for you.

Love is the leaves on a cool fall day It’s the snap of a branch when I am weak It’s the desire to be wanted by someone who doesn’t want you It’s what eats my soul.

Love is poison It’s in my veins it’s my broken bones It’s the fear of being alone

I. I don’t want to live a life Where I am wrong Because beauty is what the media makes it I’ve failed numerous times And I’ve awoken to find that I can fix my future But the choices I made in the past Were selfish choices Choices based off of what I’ve seen in movies Things that other people my age supposedly did. Friends talk about their experiences But my experiences are not like theirs. It always feels like I have to work twice as hard. I am grotesque Guilt is real Because people are affected by my actions. It helps to not be surrounded by idiots But sometimes, The only idiot is the one you see in the mirror.

I want to kill myself (emotionally)

II. Restarting my system. Awaken as a new character New haircut Different outlook on life All you need is your family and friends Be good to them They’ll be good to you too. Focus on becoming a star Stars can be seen across the galaxy They are not the center of the universe They have gravity And time is different around them You are loved by all in your life Follow your dreams because your career is promising Work hard It is your only true commitment Party because you sure as hell earned it Party, and die from your emotional overdrive. Congratulations, you know what it feels like to be alive.

III. The party is over and your friends have gone home. They are focused on their work You still want to have fun You can handle fun still Life is so serious to them, But to you, the party keeps going. Now, with nowhere to go in your dungeon across the sea of lava You are trapped. And it hits you that the party was fun for you Fun is irrelevant if you aren’t getting laid Therefore The party wasn’t really fun in the first place You were just drunk, a little high, and with people who gravitated towards a planet making its way around the sun. Now, As life continues day by day And as you look back at your week And as you can’t remember what you did the other day You are dull But you don’t know why And the mirror laughs at you: It makes sense again. You are dead already, But there is the afterlife.

I want to be forgotten before it is too late. To die now would be a burden to those in my life To die tomorrow would be a sin against the gods To die yesterday would be a crime against myself.

I would be a fool to want this life I am a fool for taking it for granted but all humans are never satisfied with their life all humans realize it's all a lie at some point all humans deal with the lie of civilization through spirituality

my spirituality lies within the empty shell i commute in every day the empty shell that collects money for making the world go round the empty shell that eats to shit to sleep to die though, that empty shell is death repressed. 

If i am forgotten today, I would not need my phone I would not have any friends I would be a waste of time to all those in my life

but if I am forgotten tomorrow you will all know who I am and I will know what I am and we will never know why

Yet if we lived our lives with a purpose, we would be satisfied with death.

I've lived my life so concerned about my destination; my journey lacks substance.

but life is a much more interesting thing I am a much more complex mind.

and it's too bad that I am weird and i am ugly and i live in a place where I just take up space where my words are just sounds and my sounds are just noise

The United Corporation of America is a global selling point.

We say beauty is skin deep: beauty is what satisfies our senses. Our senses are not trained to have faith in what they do not know Our senses are intuition Our senses are feelings. And in today's world and age, what we see, is really what we get.

I am not desirable to women. I live in a swipe left environment, where I swipe right incessantly and I rarely get matched. It is very unfortunate I do think i'm a great person and I do think I have a lot to offer but to the senses, I am "only a 7" (So i've been told)

so what does it come down to?

It does not matter if you are morally good, It does not matter if you are insanely smart (Unless the world is actually ending)

But your looks matter more than you think. You can score high in the game when your looks exceed your brain and you can excel in life when your wallet exceeds all.

Your children can complain about poverty They can look at the world through the fibers of the web and they can believe in god/gods/energy all they want

but without money, they are nothing without someone to invest in them, they are just another person who is slowly committing to bringing the earth to the inevitable stop.

It is okay if you are as crumbled as I am. The point of having children, so it seems, is to have them continue your dreams.

The meaning of life, at this moment is to do your best as a human. do your best to help make the world a better place

After all, Life has a different meaning when you view the human race as an advanced and complex form of bacteria that slowly eats away at the planets Life is different when you think that the planets are alive in a way that we do not consider living.

I am the voice of blank reason. I can speak from what I know, and I can speak from my experience. But I am just the static in the background. I am not God, so no one will listen. I am not in a place of power, so my actions are just as delusional as a child predicting the future.

I am not heard, and I will never be heard. I am not mad, I just want people to listen to me for once and not listen to God.

Listen to yourself, for starters And listen to the reactions of all you do. Do not fight for passion,  Fight for the Truth.

and to fight is to battle God himself.

I do not know if there is a God I do know that we can make choices.

My wave has passed. I am on a different node and NO ONE considers this when it comes to listening.

To listen is to understand,

and right now the world's ears are tuned to a different frequency

I promise, I am not insane I promise, I am not violent and I can promise you that I do love,

but I cannot promise you that there is a God because our perception of living is based off an ancient way of values

That in this day and age, Faith still means more than Reality.

Silence is the words I murmur in my head. It is, without oxygen, the only way my ears breathe. Life, as it goes on around me wanders the wavelengths of my dreary mind but silence keeps the volume low. The noise of things I need to do things I need to taste places I need to experience and people I "need" to fuck are strange noises. We need nothing sex is not pleasure and food is survival.

Music is the orchestration of nature as unnatural as the sounds may be they are sounds of this universe Music is indeed love

though sounds of love, transformed by the noise of society become mud and then silence becomes necessary to breathe new life to my bleeding ears

Truth is an illusion: It is relative to you, and it is relative to me.

I think I am honest. Therefore, I am honest. The fact of the matter is that I am not cool anymore, and I am not sure who my actual friends are anymore.

Who is using me? And who genuinely enjoys my company?

I suppose we’re all good for something. Some things are good for some people.

Yet as time passes And as suddenly as death You realize you are not needed anymore, then you are not wanted anymore, and then you are not friends anymore.

One cannot meet people and expect friendship. The people we meet are just people who become people with shared interests. You meet at work, at the same institution every day, and with enough time and alcohol, you are pals.

And then it is all an illusion. Because the new job means a new crowd, and the new crowd means having to fit in again.

But to be honest with new people is a Trojan curse. And to the new, your words are just words. Their value is worth less than the amount of muscles it takes to think, talk, and listen to yourself.

Civilization could be a lie Finding a purpose is unnecessary Death is only certain.

Let the wine fall on my head And flood the grounds which I walk

I will die a poor artist In my parents home Or on the couch of a friend: Money does not run through my veins.

Happiness is all I have control of. My art is simply art Try to sell it, It only looks good from afar It only sounds good on paper It does not bring food to my table Nor does it pay my rent.

I could work in all the restaurants in New York City Or work retail and fold clothes that I have never worn THAT will pay for everything I want.

But what exactly do I need?

A bed to sleep on Food to keep me alive Pen and paper to write on Do I really need this phone? The one which I write this poem?

Poor in the wallet, but strong at heart.

My friends will keep me warm My family will feed me.

I can write all I want until I die But before I die, just let me speak to the world.

Drown me in excess drink the wine that floods my grounds

It was once mine

Luck shifts at the new moon In the blink of an eye

We are different Our luck before was pure happiness Happiness like nothing could go wrong

How would anything change my happiness?

We blink

The moon; the charm of our emotion, reminds us of the darker side of life.

1 My eyes have seen a lot 2 They are brown, 3 With long lashes, 4 And I cannot see myself with any other eyes

1 My eyes are my own 2 Oh so beautiful: 3 She sits beside me. 4 But the eyes that look upon me

1 Not yours 2 Her eyes. 3 Her eyes- 4 They warm my soul

1 I was born with eyes that smile. 2 She tells me 3 They are worth more than anything in the world. 4 And they reflect pure beauty.

1 I close my eyes 2 To see the universe 3 She whispers a dream through her eyes- 4 They see love.

Those were my sunglasses you wore

My bones are still innocent Take me to a place that I feel at home Yet I have never been

My eyes are scarred with your tears I felt nothing Release all your guilt Because I am fine

The mirror laughs at me. For the first time, I am more handsome than my reflection I can stare at the mirror for hours I can look at every problem I had with my body And I can find something that I like about that problem

But I will wear my sunglasses Because they have lasted me this long- Longer than you have lasted me And your scent is still extant on them

Begone my sadness I Am New

My reflection means nothing to me My confidence is stronger than that image in the mirror

I need no kiss to prove that I am beautiful

I can feel it in my bones They support my image And muscles They support my bones