NOT THE ACTUAL ASSIGNMENT

ITS HARD FOR ME TO FOLLOW INSTRUCTION WHEN I FEEL INSPIRED TO HEAD MY OWN DIRECTION...I DONT RECALL THE ACTUAL ASSIGNMENT, BUT I FOUND THIS TODAY, SOMETHING I HAD WRITTEN IN HIGHSCHOOL.

I KNOW HOW YOU FEEL
DONT THINK THAT I DONT
I WAS ONCE LIKE YOU
FEELING SAD, DEPRESSED AND ALONE

I OVERCAME IT
AND SO CAN YOU
LETS SEE A SMILE
END THAT FACE THAT'S BLUE

DONT YOU SEE HOW BEAUTIFUL YOU ARE
DIDNT YOU KNOW YOUR LIFE IS A STAR
NOW STOP BEING DULL ITS TIME TO SHINE BRIGHT
SO OTHER BLUE-FACES CAN SEE THE LIGHT

How would a broken plate feel?

a plate would feel differently upon being broken depending on whether or not it hurt. considering plates are inanamite it wouldn't care, with feelings it would be sad, and if it were like a person, maybe it would feel like someone being sliced in half. and psycologically it would be missing its other half.

disapointing photographs

have you ever looked at a photo of you and maybe a family member, and your at the most beautiful serine setting, like the mountains or the beach and yet in the picture you have the most fake smile on your face that pretty much says "sit on it and spin"....when you think back, you remember that you were mad, didnt want your picture taken, but they insisted. and now as you look at the picture of that day you cant remember why you were mad and realize you waisted that moment with your loved one, maybe a parent or a sibling, wonder will i ever have another moment like that to make up for it and now all you can do is look at yourself in disapointment and disgust. photos are for memories, dont make them bad ones, one day you will regret it when those people are gone.

hate: no therapy required

I tried not to hate you
I tried to let it go
I tried not to remember
what you did without care of anyone but your own slutty fucking self!!

I tried not to think about it
I tried to pretend it wasnt true
but the truth is i still hate you
and wish harmful things on you

i wish someone would stab you
or cut your eyes out of your face
i wish your house would burn down
leaving of you, no trace

i wish you would choke to death
on a sandwich you stuff in your mouth
i wish your car would blow up with you inside
and the police would just say "too bad, over and out"

i wish you would drown
in a puddle of your own blood
from someone having shot you
and watch you hit the ground with a thud.

i hope that one day
someone does to you what you did to me
and while your crying and hurt
I can say SHUT THE FUCK UP! down on one knee
then cut your head off :-)

i hope that you read this
then as you go to sleep tonight
IT and chucky will show up
and drag you out of sight

and as your being pulled under
the bed i hope you remember
you still lost bitch
he’s back with me and will be forever

my workshop

I sat there with my cigarette, just breathing, at least that was all it would seem to someone else’s wondering eye gazing upon me.
I could hear thunder rumbling off in the distance, I could tell it was going to storm soon
Its hard to explain exactly what was going through my mind at that moment…if anything at all
My eyes had long glazed over like a biology student sitting in lecture after a long night of booze and weed
My long hair was bent from the previous night of restless sleep of kicking and screaming, I didn’t feel like straightening it, I didn’t see the point
I reeked with the heavy sent of tobacco as if haven rolled around in the ashes from my lit cigarette
The room itself I was occupying was lit up like an interrogation room, however if you were to look into my eyes, all’s that you would have seen was darkness, as If my very soul had already given up and moved on without me
The backs of my ears down to my neck burned as if in flames, maybe it was anger, maybe it was anxiety
I just sat there, drifting off, hoping I would find something deep inside me to hold on to, something that couldn’t be taken away
With everyone trying to talk to me, trying to “comfort” me, I couldn’t take it anymore so I left
My keys were still laying where I had left them almost three days ago-the night I retreated to my solitude-they had begun collecting dust. I guess they had also began to give up on me.
Slowly I walked, almost gliding it seemed to my car parked on the same side of the driveway where it always was at the end of everyday for the past 5 years
I drove for what seemed like forever into the foggy night. It was the kind of fog you would see on night of the living dead movies where at any moment something unforeseen could take your life
I ended up on highway 5, a small back road that seemed to lead no where except out into the country, the kind of country that made you feel like you had jumped backwards about 30 years
There is an old scenic look-out point about 15 min away from town where who knows what goes on there, but tonight I didn’t really care
I parked the car and walked until I could see the white picket fence that had been aged by years of weather, I knew I was almost there
Finally the heavens agreed with me and opened up, I no longer had my own tears slowly streaming down my face, but I think his tears also. It was like he was walking with me holding my hand, comforting me in a way that no one else in this world could
I was soaked with the rain that seemed to fit how I felt perfectly; cold, dark, and silent.
Finally I came to the tree
The tree that had his flowers nailed to it
The tree that blocked from my view the actual tree that was broken over from about two feet up with bits and pieces of our memories scattered around it as if it had no meaning at all, at least, not the tree that broke them.
My legs collapsed beneath me as I fell slamming my fists in the dirt that was beginning to turn to mud from my tears
Suddenly as if compulsively like I had no control over my actions I sat up, clinched fisted, and screamed in a way that meant “why?”
I screamed until I couldn’t scream anymore, until every tree down that road heard my pain, until I had nearly lost my voice
I kneeled there for a while with my head down like a wilted blossom until I caught my breath. Then with my eyes closed I tilted my head up towards the sky, the rain beating upon my ivory skin…slowly I re-opened them to the darkened clouds
“I love you too.”

list poems

red lights aren't bad unless they last incredibly too long
stop and go traffic
people thinking they are smart speeding by on the shoulder
pisses people off, not letting you over, dumb ass
thought they found a way ahead but they just got stuck
feeling stuck in your own mind
try to fight its grasp but you cant break free
quicksand
i hear its dangerous
suffocation, no breathing
anxious, nervous, i really need a cig.
cigs, the smell stays with you even after you dont notice it anymore

places; war mamorial stadium

silence on a cold quiet morning, nothing but the sound of the wind blowing by us as we started to march onto the field. atleast, we couldn't hear anything else outside of our moment. the drum major's whistle blew and the drums taped out the cadence. we stopped, snapped to attention. my adrinaline was pumpping and my heart racing, these were the moments i lived for. the whistle blew once more like a fire shot and we began, gliding across that field with viscosity, like a smooth cream soda. the colors of my flag danced around me as if in slow motion as i became lost inside the music. everything outside the white line surrounding that field faded out as if it no longer existed. these were our glory days.