Years Better Erased than Written

I have enough words to tell you I don’t have anything to say,

Not now and not ever again.


What’s the point?

What does it matter?

Does anyone actually value being literate,

Or is it merely a convenience?


Buried in megapixels,

Whored out for micro SDs,

If only you had a brain.


For the fact that change has occurred,

Life remains the same;

Yet because hardly anything is the same,

It’s only then we recognize there has been any change.


D          I         E



Compromised Focus

Screaming in basements to avoid being heard,

Typing out thoughts so patience doesn’t have to be tested,

It’s all become so routine;

Figuring out how to make the loudest noise yet remain concealed

In an absent-minded and loud world.

Exhausted at the resonance of criticism,

Flattened by the glare of chosen ignorance,

My disdain for sleep is tested by my stronger desire to avoid people.

While my body will be in far worse pain if I lay down uselessly,

It’s better than the pain of being surrounded by people

whose interactions feel like they’re done out of duty rather than hospitality.

Why believe you’re in a group when the people make you feel lonely?

Why sit next to someone who seems as though they’re deaf to your voice only?

I’m confused as to what relationships are actually supposed to do,

Especially since people seem to favor conversations on screens involving icons and abbreviations,

Rather than human engagement and sound.

Why should I see you in person when I can see you just fine on my phone screen?

Don’t waste your touch You won’t feel anything



He is no Longer With Us

What do you do when you need someone to support you,

And the need is from the place of discovering your incapability of supporting others?

What do you do when the ones that love you most,

Are the ones you’re least able to receive love from?

What do you think,

When the only logic you have to base your thoughts on is skewed & jaded?


If doubt paid as a career,

I’d be a millionaire.

Quite possibly a billionaire,

But I doubt it’d last.


I’m an ornament in the house of chaos,

On display for only shadows of mankind to see;

If they ever slow down for a moment,

To think or breathe.


Most of not all I know seems to be faulted and/or fractured,

But when your broken what can you expect?

Is abandonment the solution,

Or just the diving board on the cliff top?

Is there a point to asking questions,

If answers never come?


If anyone who actually knows me takes the time to read this, even despite the slightly misanthropic or apathetic tone of the above words; I commit the limited honor I may possess with you and ask that you believe me when I say, suicide is far from my future or possibility. The finite nature of life makes my embracing death voluntarily trivial, incredibly irrational, and ridiculous among other things. I enjoy learning through discovery, but the discoveries aren’t always enjoyable. A discovery I’m fully making today is the damage my jaded state of mind has caused/is causing to my life and relationships. I’m officially, completely aware that receiving love is one of the hardest for me to do; while it is also one of my deepest desires to not only receive but give love to others. I don’t really know what this means, or where exactly to go from here. But, I must keep moving.