Not to be blunt… But if you only think about yourself, you’re a fuckin asshole. I mean how self absorbent can you be? Last time I checked Homo Sapiens are in no way related to a sponge or a fucking tampon. When your head is out of your ass, make sure you come and talk to your friend who is waiting.
Me, I’m your friend, not your reflection.

Not to be blunt… But I’m pretty sure as a father, abandoning your three year old kid with a mother that has to work four jobs to make ends meet is not a good idea. I mean yeah, his brother is four years older but think about it, a three year old kid, near white walls, and crayons? It’s practically an empty canvas for Claude Monet or Andy Warhol. The mom comes home and tries to scold the kids but in those deep brown pits in her head where a vibrant soul should be yet is only met with a cold, dead glare is not very convincing. And let me say, a troublesome kid being raised in the south side of Chicago is a recipe for “fun”

Not to be blunt… But when a bullet whizzed past the head of a fourteen year old gang banger it pissed him off, not scare him. CRACK CRACK CRACK. Shots ring out but you only feel the rush of a punk ass motherfucker dropping dead because your homie putting a bullet in his head. That same gang banger is the one who held his friend in his arms while he bled out on the alleys of downtown Chi-Raq. A funny name for a beautiful city. Makes you think doesn’t it. That bullet that your friend took? It was meant for you.

Not to be blunt… But when life becomes so meaningless, sometimes it feels better to get the shit beat out of you, because then at least you’ll feel something. You’ll fuck because it feels good, you’ll fight because it feels good, you’ll smoke and drink and shoot up and pop pop pop drugs because it feeeeeeellls good. But when’s the last time you wanted to feel good because it felt good? When’s the last time you told your mom you loved her? When’s the last time you loved? Lived? Learned what it was to be human? When? What happened to that little boy who cried because he couldn’t have his mommy at school, or ran to the ice cream truck, or jumped on the trampoline with his brother or colored on those walls in your duplex because GOD DAMNIT I WANT THAT KID BACK.

Not to be blunt… But I’m blunt, because that’s all the world has ever been to me.

This poem does not have a happy ending. I could rhyme a million ways to describe how I felt. I could be poetic to describe to you that my heart is leaving, it is shrinking, pulling a reverse grinch and growing smaller. I know things will get better but damn it’s not happening now so it’s time to write, to listen, and go speak with conviction. I could use flowery language that’ll never live up to Shakespeare as if these emotions I have just suddenly appeared but they didn’t, they were dormant waiting for a catalyst to come along and shake them up to the surface. I feel broken. I feel hurt. I feel deserted, lost, empty. I feel hopeless, like this dark tunnel that I’m in will never be flooded with light. Maybe if I burn my own skin it’ll illuminate it a bit but that way will only allow self destruction to seep in. Maybe I could build a bomb and blow this tunnel to smithereens but the only thing that will be affected is me… When I don’t want to be bothered I’ll let my phone die.. sometimes I envy it.

I could tell you these tears are fake, and just for show. Or I could be honest and say they’re real from sadness which is the only emotion left in my soul. I was happy.. I was proud of the man I’d become but how can I look at myself in the mirror now? I look down, my knuckles turning white from rage I look further past and see I’m pushing 120 on the freeway while it rains. I brake. Then I break. This is not the life I had intended for myself, propped up on a shelf, thinking about how I’m everyone’s self help rather than helping myself. My belt, sturdy like my bones… this is what will be remembered as my throne. Now this noose, not as loose around my neck, did I tell my family I loved them today… check. I know I will leave this world in shock, one last thought as my descent makes the chair rock… side to side my body swings… this is all that’s left of me.

I told you this poem didn’t have a happy ending, so why are you so surprised?

At least when they find me they won’t have to open my eyes.

she had blue eyes, like glaciers, and he was the titanic. Heart like a lion. smile, big as

Kalamazoo

everyone else saw it, but nobody else knew. taken for granted, and so was her heart

And

Soon, after time. She began to believe, Love wasn’t kind. All things in life weren’t fine

Though

the boy was, and tried to love her so, he tried to convince, all the world wasn’t woe. his

Heart

was too big, and swallowed him whole. he gave her a piece of it, hoping that she’d hold

Earnestly

proving that he would relay, every nice and beautiful thing about her to this very day

Rectifying

his thoughts, on a judgmental notepad, he began to see, why life could seem so, so bad

Increasingly

though, he hid behind his mask. the one that made her smile, without a second  glance

Never

would he tell her, the struggles that he’s faced. Happiness cost so much more than grace

Enough

cried the boy, begging for a break. knowing, like atlas, on his shoulders was all the weight. He screamed out of pain, yet held it all nonetheless. Then came her, holding the piece of his heart with a gentle caress.

We never tried to have fun, it always just happened

I always knew you were the one, but you were just laughin’

I was the moon and you, the sun, but it all came crashin’

Pleaded to make it work… I failed. Guessin’ you were just nappin’

So now I’m here, years and many tears later…. you try to come back like fashion

I still foolishly sprint to you, because I keep on imaginin’

though I knew through and through, we could never go back

                               And

                               U

                               Didn’t

                               Recognize

the                         Eager

                               Yearning

I gave for you…

We tried again, nothing much changed.

We fell apart, and

    so

               did

I.

Remember watching dogs following their tails spinning round and round in circles, until you felt like your head would spin off? Spin off and roll down down down the street and all the way back again? They chased and chased and chased, but I wonder if they ever thought about what they would do once they caught it. Would they sit, content with their capture? Would they continue running, unsatisfied with their latest hunt, or would they just stop, frozen in exciting fear of what’s to come next.

When I was three, I knew I was a puppy dog. Following things around in circles until I was blue in the face, keeping pace with the thing I wanted most. To keep myself occupied, my parents often tried to fill my time within my life with things to peak my interest. First it was sports, then I got too good, and it bored me. Next, video games. Those worked, until I realized you could walk away from them. Obviously my family was a video game to my dad, because he walked away from us too, but that’s another story for another poem. Finally, I came across theatre. That’s been working pretty okay as of late. Then, there was you. The breaker of my walls, the believer of my dreams. I could see a million different themes of how our future could play out as soon as your smile hit my gut… I was breathless. From that day I knew I was fucked.

Your hair, dark as midnight, but your soul bright as morning’s light. Your smile, large and genuine. Your eyes, ever changing colors to match the day you were having. Blue to green mattered not, to me, for they made me feel serene, I had never seen someone just as stunning as you… you made me stop comparing everyone to everyone else yes now everyone was compared to you. It was clear no one else could even hold a faint light to your brilliant shine, I could die, from how sweet the idea of you smelled I fell even though you didn’t catch me. I fell… to the ground… and yet, I’m still just as wild about you as I was the day I knew that no one else would be enough.

Yes I knew when I was three, but I never knew what I was following, but now it’s clear. I will follow you to the ends of the earth. After all, I am just a puppy dog, looking for its’ home.

What feels better than being loved. Being wanted. The want of a human makes my heart humid and warm. From the site of a friend, that’ll be your friend to the end, no matter how many times we go around the bend, I’d send all my love to them, and then turn around and do it again. Fights, they happen, but with friends you’d never abandon because you know you’ll love ‘em when all the dust clears, it’s clear that we were never really… that.

You know when you were little and your parents scolded you for just squeezing the toothpaste tube however you wanted so you had to roll it up and make sure you get it all out? Every last little drop? Hm. Sounds familiar. So it’s my fault that you want to go back to the man who made you suicidal. Okay. You made me your personal toothpaste tube, making sure every last part of my contents were used and spit down the drain. But it’s your pain that should be the one not in vain, because hey, love is real right? But only with people that would give your life fright.  It’s a power thing, you like to feel in control. I’d believe that if you didn’t say you were a pushover… although I guess everything you said could just be bullshit to get a hit of power you so long to have.

But the truth is if you asked me to go back into it I’d go through it once more because love is war and it’s better to be half loved than to never be loved once more, I mean sure. Someone will come along, and these feelings right now won’t last forever but this endeavor I was hoping to be my last, the blast that would send me into a cosmos of spinning colors and bright stars. Not black holes and anti-matter screaming it don’t matter because men can’t show they’re tattered and worn because if we do we’re bitches right? Nice.

So fuck you. Fuck your feelings. Fuck everything you know about me and will inevitably spill, pop those pills so you don’t feel, or heal. But guess what? Nothing you ever “love” will be real until you let those walls down. Know that I love you when I say this, but… Go fuck yourself.