PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

There was no shot glass for my vodka when
I made it to the crossroads only to find it crowded.
Weathered anxieties stitched between my eyebrows
and it felt only right to hang them out to dry with today’s laundry;

the sun bleaching them as strongly as it reddens your skin.
My love, 
you have no clue how hard it was not to touch you. 

So I lean against the only bare wall in the room
with my fingers twitching to hold something,

but all the packs of cigarettes were empty 
and there was no castle of beer cans in the hall. 
If I raised my head I can see your

thin figure standing over the stove top
begging

water to boil as the T.V. screen screamed like our parents did: 
You will burn in Hell for your sins! 

I’ve been swimming in the deep end lately.

My head is spinning in circles.

My heart had never been so hollow on the inside.

I need to catch my breath before I do anything else stupid.

My work of art is an escape from uniformity.

I felt safe with you for the time being.

At the end of the week, you cuddled me

When the sergeant had an off day at work and took it out on me.

I let you in like I did when I meet new people.

You were happy for me when I told you I finally found love.

I wanted nothing more than a friend’s reassurance that everything will be okay.

But you in particular were a land mine waiting to explode.

It’s dangerous territory where you’re from as a queer.

It’s dangerous territory where I lurk on the web.

It’s dangerous territory to build a world without receiving adequate training.

It’s dangerous territory to make friends with volatile people like you.

I can barely read script in Delphi without misinterpreting some if not most of its passages.

My art isn’t like what you’d expect to see in other do-it-yourself or high-profile projects.

The way I write, the way I archive, and the way I distribute information is my strongest suit.

There is no way I can fulfill my goal in life alone without the help of a team that knows its stuff.

You didn’t have to sugarcoat your advice to fix my problems

But you didn’t have to pull more than my teeth either.

You spoke to me as if I had to know every damn trick in the book.

You pointed out where I went wrong as if I didn’t already understand it.

I would have welcomed your advice if you watched your language.

I would have been more considerate if we joined forces as planned.

But being friendly with you in light of this is just out of question.

You can say that I’m high all you want, but it goes to show that you’re smaller than you think.

It’s dangerous territory where you’re from as a queer.

It’s dangerous territory where I lurk on the web.

It’s dangerous territory to build a world without receiving adequate training.

It’s dangerous territory to make friends with volatile people like you.

A vagabond told me this morning that I don’t learn much from success

And boy, I sure did learn a lot about your character more than what it takes to be top dog.

I might also let it slip that you exploded in my face because your little rant was all over the place.

In that case, riddle me this, who among the two of us really needs room for improvement?

Been feeling pretty uninspired,

The irony my life has been spiraling,

Taking notes about my meditations and dreams,

Going back and forth with myself 'it isnt what it seems'

Even now, writing but not feeling the words,

'How do I feel, how do I feel'  no adjectives, no verbs, 

To describe my daily illusion, 

All the sick as fuck things ive been doing,

These thoughts and white bitches ive been consuming,

Jesus make me believe in you again,

I wanna believe my future could change if I could just see the light through you again,

These crystals around my neck are heavy but im not grounded,

Obsessing about all of the things around me,

Be mine, someone,

Ive lost my contentment,

If I dont feel another body against mine soon I might betray my commitments,

Light eyes give me hope,

I hope she never reads this,

Im an alien, on a terrace, just standing for what I believe in,

These silly words,

These silly words just giving you feeling,

I have none,

Empty but filled with so much expression,

The church would say your blessed and,

You are satan, for including your love for a woman within the same statement,

Im rambling now,

Lucifer the gardian angel of mine who wears a crown,

Send me down a blessing from the sky,

Perferrably a bitch with nice tits, pink lips, and a smile as sharp as a tooth pick,

Make her love me unconditionally even when im acting stupid,

Unconditionally even when im disillusioned...

Oh, and send me a bag of money.

Tonight we're going to make things right-
Get up and fight-
You are bound by no fate-
Yet you hope to pass through an impossible gate-
You are no higher race-
Take my hand and see the world through my eyes-
Stop believing in their lies-
You don't need pride to accept who you are inside 

He is so very sincere

He tells me I am beautiful, wonderful and perfect every day

He treats me like a princess and oh, how I swear I hold him dear

But I never dreamed I would feel this way

She is like fire and ice

So inconsistent, so confusing

She could break my heart once and I'd thank her twice

She is an act of war and this is a battle I'm losing

How am I dating this boy when I am oh so emotionally attached to a girl?

He has my mind on a string wrapped around his little finger and she has my heart

I would walk a thousand miles to feel even one piece of her, even one blonde curl

What am I to do, when this secret is tearing me apart

How long am I meant to go on breaking my own heart

Right before his car crashed in to the old oak tree,

I saw him scream, I saw him cry, I saw him turn inside out.

I know my twin brother better than the girls he tricks to his treats,

Girls that leave him with scratch marks on his back like a cat to post.

He was there when I was born, I was there when he learned to kiss,

He was there when I played my first recital, I was there at his death.

I'm always with him, I don't have to know where he is, or even see him.

Look through a forest and you know the birds are singing, but not seen.

So as I stared at him through the eye piece of shared DNA prior death,

He answered a call from our mother with troubling news about me.

His twin brother, myself, had just come out of the closet, and it was all

His fault, the fighting, the name calling, the harassing, the banter;

At least that is what was going through his mind. I wouldn't know.

I only felt his pain through the love of two brothers, two, but one.