Foreboding

An Unrealistic Wish

Fair lady, your grace

astounds me. Your beauty is

simply unparalleled. Oh, what I would give

to be one of your faces, each beautiful,

each with their own touch -

immaculate, pouting, smiling, caring, sharp, soft, all perfect.

But I'm sure you don't need me to tell you that.

Instead, I am stuck in this

muck of a body. My ugliness is

quite gastly. I suppose it is nature.

To be a Man, this vulgar, disfigured-at-conception

shambling mound of meat, fucking years of effort

just for the body to be fit and healthy, much less attractive,

and even less so the face.

And don't get me started on the person.

Oh, yes, I suppose partly inherited, but I'm sure mostly inherent -

the rage, violence, crassness, brash impusiveness,

the chaos and unbefitting nature of it all.

Why, I can't even love myself like this -

What kind of asshat would I be to ask for love from you?

But I digress. See, this is what I mean -

Even now I overpower, I crush and push and talk

as if I am the only real person in the world, a spoiled brat -

whining about how bad he has it

to people who've had much worse.

Forget me. I've been

too much of a burden on you. I'm sorry.

Even now your kindness and generosity shine through

my darkest clouds, my deepest woes,

and I'm sorry I waste your blessings like this.

Thank you for your time. I know, I know -

I cannot be one of your faces. I am what I am:

a greedy little shit of a Man who is only after your looks

and even if I had it, it would be fake, a cheap imitation

of your boundless perfection. But thank you for

at least considering it. Oh, and before you go -

I love you. You're beautiful.

God Will Weep

God will weep

for the souls of the damned

and the sins of the holy

when I shove my fist through his chest

God will weep

for the poor and suffering

and the mistakes of the greats

when I kick his corpse off the cliff

God will weep

for the sins he has committed

and the suffering of the good

when I shove my foot through his skull

God will weep

for the wrongs he has done to me

and the defects he made me with

when I throw his ashes into the wastewater collection plant

God will weep

because when I find his house

and break in the door

he fucking better cry.

I'm Sorry. I'll Leave. I'll Go.

It appears that

I have done

something bad again.

It appears that

I have drawn

your ire again.

I'm sorry.

I'll leave.

I'll go.

Am I just

another filthy

attention-seeker?

Is this

another farce

I've made?

I'm sorry.

I'll leave.

I'll go.

Am I

Not even worth

The air I breathe?

Am I really

Such scum

And filth?

I'm sorry.

I'll leave.

I'll go.

Am I truly

Just another blight

On this world?

Should I

End it here

To not be a burden?

I'm sorry.

I'll leave.

I'll go.

Just say the words

and I'll make

my exit.

Just tell me to get out

and I'll heed

your command.

I'm sorry.

I'll leave.

I'll go.

Overachieving

Here's the test I scored well on.

Here's the competition I won an award in.

Is it enough for you? Will I be allowed happiness?

Can I talk to human beings again and pretend I am one of them?

The past year, no, two years, no, five, no -

The past over-a-decade has been nothing but more

so much more that whenever someone says "burnout is bad!"

I think inside, "I lived it; I breathed it; I became it; sounds like you just have a skill issue."

And I'm a terrible person for thinking that. If it hurt for me, it'll hurt for them.

But god damn if I have something else I'm proud of taken away from me again.

I come back with a 95. You ask, "why isn't it 96? 97? 100?" Or maybe you don't care. Just see that it's an 'A' and forget it by tomorrow.

I come back saying I did well. You ask, "and how exactly? What did you do? What did everyone else think?"

And I tell you because I'm a good child and I'm still that naive pushover who thinks the world is good and you are still family

And inside I pack up another bottle of anger and disappointment of various kinds of both you and myself.

And in the end I've had enough. You taught me how to shorten my fuse, and I've tried to make it last a little longer but you burn so hot.

I tell you to shut up and wait for the results. And inside I think but don't say: "You fucking asshole. Piece of shit that can't bother to be proud of their own child for fucking once."

So tired of your shit. So tired of being a good person to you because you're just an ass and you can't change that.

So tired of pushing forwards all the time. So tired of being pushed forwards all the time. Can't do it myself like a real human being.

So tired of being this mess who can't pull themselves together like a normal person. So tired of procrastinating and crying and sitting here wallowing in the exact same cesspool of angst.

So tired of doing everything wrong and right and being the perfect idiot child and pushing forwards and wading back and the whole fucking thing.

I'm just so, so fucking tired.

What It Means To Vote

Lies, lies, lies, all the way down.

Do you ever really stop and think about who you're even talking about?

Do you ever think who gains off cheating you? Who wants you to stay stupid?

Do you ever think about what it means to vote?

You are deciding the fate of a society. You choose feast or famine.

So why, really, do you choose the man who has lied to you time and time again?

Why do you want the man who has shot you and left you for dead?

What the actual fuck is going on inside your head?

Do words even matter to you anymore? Do kindness and empathy mean nothing?

Are you just another sock-puppet of that moneybag in a suit?

Do you not see the bigger picture? The bots, the trolls, the media diversions?

Do you ever even think about what your vote really means?

A rapist, a felon, impeached twice, started an insurgency.

Do you even hear yourself? Do you even look at the man you're touting?

Black guy, have you seen the racism he perpetuates? Woman, have you seen the sexism he himself partakes in? Immigrants, have you seen what he wants to do to you?

Do any of you - any of you - really think about what it means to vote for this man?

today i am going to run on the treadmill until either my lungs or my legs give out

the pain will remind me to exist

I Gave It All Away

A man who does nothing

but think all the time

has nothing to think about

except thoughts.

Then what is a man

who does nothing but help;

who gives his soul away

until there is nothing else?

Maybe he is generous

for generosity is a virtue;

But he is not wealthy

and has not given his money away.

Maybe he is virtuous

like the proud, proud knights of fantasy

But those knights were courageous;

something he could never be.

Maybe he is an idiot

a fool for being kind;

for kindness is weakness

and this boy must learn to fight

Maybe he is soulless

like a husk of a man;

but there are some even emptier than he;

how could he dare compare himself to them?

I think I am naive

I am kind, virtuous, and stupid;

For I gave my soul away

Hoping I could have a piece of yours

Hello, who are you? I wish to know your story. I see poetry blogs like these, I see them in their void; posting tagless, just screaming out, and I grow so curious. If you’re interested in giving an autobiography to a stranger, just say and I will dm you. My account is anonymous pretty much too.

yall is this some kind of scam or something

"In case anyone missed it, the tuberculosis outbreak in Kansas has now spread to Ohio.

[The Republican Administration] has ordered the CDC to not report on this"

Who is Speaking?

Who is this?

three people in one

one person as two

put on a mask and done!

Is the fair lady speaking?

She is quite fun.

Let's decide on a date

and go for a run!

Is the young boy speaking?

He is quite kind.

I hope he is not so sad.

The world is good, I'm sure he'll find.

Is the good sir speaking?

He is quite professional.

I think he will go a long way.

His intelligence is indeed exceptional.

Are all three of them speaking?

I sure hope they are.

Each one brings something different

Like three types of shining star.