I Apologize In Advance For This Marginally Organized Garbage

My brain is broken

and I’m writing garbage

but if I go another day

then my heart will be starving

the clouds before my eyes

deny me sight through my mind

but I just need to post something

because I’m falling behind.

A Persona Can Only Hold Up So Well, Depending On How Thick It Was To Begin With

Eggs crack sometimes.

What are you gonna do?

The shell breaks

because its more delicate

than we realize

and if it shatters,

picking up the pieces

will be a rather arduous task.

Then we act surprised or frustrated

when the whites leak out

everywhere they’re not supposed to,

almost as if

we’ve never seen it happen before.

If the crack is so large

that it spans all the way


then we might even

end up with messy yellow yolk

escaping through the shell.

It’ll leak all over the kitchen counter,

down to the floor,

and if you’re standing close enough,

onto your shoes.

Believe me,

there is nothing under the sink

that is going to help

clean that up.

All we do

is try not to fret too much

about caring for our eggs

because the chances are

that eventually they’ll crack anyways

and that’s okay

because even though

it might be messy to clean up

there is always the possibility

that there will still be

some of the whites

and maybe even the yolk

left inside.

Fragments of a stunted soul

left only for your consumption,

inside a beautifully collapsing


not yet vacant shell.

Hiding The Truth From Even Ourselves

Hey, how have you been?

(I’ve missed you)

I’ve been good.

(I’m a mess)

Yeah, It’s been awhile.

(I’ve thought about you everyday)

What are you doing these days?

(Tell me you haven’t moved on)

Oh, that’s great.


Me? Yeah, nothing serious though.

(No, not since you)

Yeah, it was good to see you too.

(Don’t Go)

There Is No Wrong Answer Unless That Answer Is That There Are Wrong Answers

You know that feeling you get,

the one in math class when you’re solving problems

and the answers are coming so easily to you

that you have to stop and think,

“I must be doing this wrong.”?


Yeah that one.


Thats exactly how I feel

every time I finish a poem,

but then I remember that writing is subjective

and there really isn’t a right or wrong way to do it.


YoU CAn WritE AnYTHinG aNd aNyWAy yOU WanT.


No one can tell you it’s wrong because it will always be right to someone

even if thats just you.


Don’t Stand Fixed In The Same Place A Fire Once Burned

Let it go

and don’t expect it to return

because there is only one way

to make the same fire burn.


No matter how hard you wish,

or hope, or pray,

you know you stood to see

that burning flame’s last day.


Don’t get up

and try to chase it

because it’s already gone

and its time to face it.


The only thing left

for you to do

is drench the coal

and start anew.

Taking Escape By The Handful

Living is strange

and people are dumb

that why I take these pills,

cause they make me feel numb.


They’re blue and red,

and they’re clouding my vision

but don’t worry ’bout me

it’s a minor addiction.


I’ll just take one, okay four,

I’m sure it’ll be fine.

I’ve losing track of space

and I’m floating through time.


I’ll find my way back

in a few hours, I think,

I woke up and its Wednesday,

man I need a drink.


Guess I’ll do it again

and hope for the best,

I’ll take few now

and leave tomorrow, the rest.

Too Much To Say And Too Little Time

I have found, that my problem is


I always have too much to say.

A shortage or time

and an excess of words.


I wonder if its really just that silence

can speak louder

and hold more meaning


because someone lost in thought,

liberated from their own voice,

can not only see what they’re thinking


they can feel it.