Everything

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Everything I see that’s crooked about me
Is restored by the mirror in your eyes
The pain, the shadows
They all become accessory in your light
Sometimes I’m afraid to come to you
You’re perfect, immortal in awesomeness
The totality of what I yearn to be
When I lie with you, we’re naked
Nothing but yesterday’s breath
And today’s sweat between us
We are one, you whisper, pulling us closer
I resist your touch, I’m a sinner in your sight
But you love in spite of the wrong
Each time I let you, I was given a closer look
You let me have all your body
And every time I came back
You gave me more
The sex is just a period on our emotion
Your delicious body just a note in my song
Spreading me open, head lost in a trance
I hold your head tightly
We shiver and shudder under the gaze of us
We cum and commence our devotion
Wrapped in your arms all I feel is safety
Comfort in knowing there is someone for me
You taste like my sweet bitter dreams
And rub away all of my demons
Each kiss blesses them with new chains
And fucks turns them away at the door
You taste
Like all my demons
For my friend, Mandie 
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Split

WAMTAC
Hiding from myself
The memories boxed up and shipped far
Into the recesses of time
But when it’s cold, the shingles stir
Dark clouds gather on the horizon
Lightning shatters confidence and sways
Funnel clouds evaporate conscious efforts
I crack and crumble and admit my faults
I fucked up so many times, why am I here
I say all the wrong things, think thoughts
Of a murderer, of a slave, of a con
I do all the wrong things, push everyone away
Friends and family say things, and deep down
I know they’re right, but my ego gets hard
And I fight the truth I know inside
It’s so cold when the winds leave
And so alone without the thunder distracting
I can hear all my demons vying for my head
Splitting my heaven into hell

Pain And Indecision

I have memories endless

And the words to detail them all

Yet I pretend not to know my past

Saying it was all awash

And not worth the time to discuss

The rains fall upon oft-walked ground

Ipull out a drink, because only silence

Can truly understand why I bleed

The rain is cold, the winds creep through

Yet bare skin hardly shudders, I’ve endured worse

Glasses fog up, becoming a hindrance to life

I feel with my heart, the only thing that feels right

Now I can remember everything that happened

I can, but I still won’t tell

Nature knows what I’ve done, but I’m still afraid

I feel the eyes of another watching over me

Casting doubtful glances upon my soul

I have a knife that could end it all

The truth I withhold could set me free

But I love the pain, I love the indecision

It’s all I’ve ever known

Vessel Of Troubled Thoughts

The method of my madness

Is the confidence in blackness

In a meadow of white flowers

Some roses, some saps

In a forest of unintelligible raps

Small, handcrafted lines don’t stand a chance

And they never gave me one, no endorsement

But with patience and practice I absorbed it

Now wherever I go I pen the deepest passion

Without inspiration, just routine, no rations

Of any emotion I might be feeling at the time

Be it anger, be it guilt, be it sadness

That often warms as a thick quilt

Draped over a sick child in fits of agony

Don’t look at my misery, don’t behold

The catastrophe

But you can’t help but read, I can’t help but write

The tasers, headlamps, and body cams

The prisoners, the sentencers, the tweeters

They don’t scare me

Not nearly as much as I scare myself

Digging up these solemn regrets

And showing them off to the world

As if I were a vessel of troubled thoughts

With nothing left to give

What Words Bring

I had to get rid of me

To find Me

The suicidal depressions

And disappointment brewed

From pornographic misconceptions

The boiling, bawling anger I couldn’t control

Tearing myself from the flesh I called home

Descending into the valley, alone

I couldn’t come out until I figured how

Embrace my unique in a cookie cutter world

Screaming and crying until my nose would bleed

I was lost, so lost, it would seem

But when I went to sleep, I prayed to the walls

Please help me, lead me to something better

Something bigger and brighter than me

Everything in my eyes is failing, and I fell

Into dreams I haven’t had before or since

Wash my hands clean of the past

And embrace the new Me, the one you read

I don’t know what my own voice sounds like

Drowning in a chorus of many voices

Some needs are prioritized over others

But I always come back to the poet in Me

For words give me peace

Neither life nor death can bring

Bored (Simply Writing About Autism)

I became bored

Simply writing about autism

I felt like every one else

Just going on about the downfalls

The misery, the mistakes

It shouldn’t be ignored

But it has its place

I call it An Aspergian’s Chemical Romance

Because I mix love with the acidic burn

Of a childhood gone to waste

The adoration of poetry and prose

Through writing, failing, and gaining age

Withstanding the onslaught of emotion

And fear of being lost without a cause

This place became my refuge and devotion

Another round of poetic potion

Soothing rough edges of a world gone awry

Each line, each time, I raise the white flag

A sign that no matter what they call me

I will always be happy with how I’m made

I stain your glorious day

With a discord and blight

So you may never forget in your riches

There are those killed by your might

I felt with each breath a great pain

Now gone, this desire to feign my name

Apparitions

Sometimes, I can’t help myself

I just want to be noticed

I sit back in the shadows, listening

Pondering the words of those around me

Writing them down to question later

Or to inspire another line

The louder wins, the boldest wins

The angriest wins, the cunningest wins

But what if I am of all them and none?

Some days I am bold and reckless

Others timid and reluctant

A mighty pendulum I sway on any given day

And you might hate me for it

You can’t read me, deceive me, figure me

That’s fine, I can’t read you either

As we are nothing but phantoms

Of the others wishes

Two apparitions of the night

Nobody Listens To Me

Why should I listen

Nobody listens to me

When I say I’m tired, pouring on the pain

Becomes involuntary

Like the assumption that I’m slower

Or not there at all

Because I’m so still, so quiet

Thinking, wondering, adding

Really, you should try it

But don’t ever ask how I’m feeling, no

They only see what is thought to be insolence

And I became the last one picked for anything

I become the last on their minds, if it all

I become the first to reply, and the first to fall

Somehow I thrive and relish it all

The agony of being the only one in the group

Without someone who you’re close to

Who understands you, who cares about you

What I would give for a perfect son like that

But what I wouldn’t would be a longer list

Because in the space of time I am missed

I refuel with the words of my ancestors

Fellow writers, and leaders that inspire

If anyone is listening to me, it is them

Through the pages of history I am restored

Vindication shall be mine, and more

This Child Becomes Undone

Don’t mind

I’m just writing

Clues for you

Clues for your heart to follow

And yours hips to ride on

Write on

About how I don’t appeal to you

Your sensitivity, shaken, curiosity, awakened

Yet I feel I’m a pawn in your sea

But you’re the one to be sunk

By the weight of my words

The bitter past swells in the eye

This storm feeds off your attention

The beauty on the outside

Fuels the monster within

Never to be feared

And temporarily loved

I sleep with your soul, one eye open

Wishing while wild

To have this child undone

I’m Okay With This

Got a knack for poetry

Crafting heartfelt lines

Borne of an outsider

Watching the world go by

Never done what people said, got into trouble

World’s not kind to my kind, be in my bubble

Silently preying on those with open hearts

Check my blogs, see a lot of orange dots

I didn’t make a lot of friends when I was young

But when you comment “well done”

“Amazing” and “❤️

The words become alive, the evil undone

My father wasn’t kind to me, but you are

And I’m not finished, but I’ve come far

My life is a battleground, this means war

My heart is a bunker, these words mortars

My spine is a fortress, these tears are arrows

Tipped with fire

The invisible wires around my people

Will one day fall as I climb the steeple

Of supremacy and statues

Identity and virtues

But until then, I’ll keep writing

And you keep telling me how you feel

We’re connected, you and I

Even on a technological level

And I’m okay with that