someday they'll burn

the park bench this

little boy sits on,

it's red and shiny

like his lunchbox.

he scratches the glaze

with his tiny finger,

gummy beneath the nail,

smiling, he likes the

look of newness murdered,

giggles as he thinks

about the damage.

when the bench begins to rot,

it will start along the line

he drew while the others

played tag and drank juice,

he wonders what else

he can ruin forever

with a silent little scrape,

for his birthday

he asks for a pocketknife,

thinking about how much

he likes the glisten

of red in the sun,

and sticky hands

that change the future.

he makes a list

of the others that never

sat on his favorite bench

with him, he will tag them all.

Don't say you're sorry

If you don't intend to change.

Respect the integrity of the word

By not associating it with watered-down meanings.

It's a word so pure.

So precious.

Let it keep its worth.

Don't make it cheap.

Here I stand depositing feelings of favored emotions

Into a vault that wasn't mine

Sometimes it feels as if these emotions were quarters loaned by other people

Gathered when I was swimming in your pool of fountain wishes

A huge pot of pleasures in a poker game of misread faces

I couldn't read you

When the cards were dealt

I tried to call your bluff

Only to lose the hand

Your hands

I headed to your self owned casino to play slots

Moved on to love roulette only to lose

I lost all my earnings

thinking I had a chance of upping my chances to your wealth

Now here I stand depositing myself into my fiscal problems in order to avoid my bankruptcy

Now the only thing my wallet holds are blank pictures of faded pasts.

Greenbacks of a love lost.

Yet in this trench of fiscal problems I can't help but to feel wealthy. Wealth is subjective. My wealth comes from knowledge and my trials of becoming the greatest man. So who is anyone to call me poor. Because I am still wealthy.

I want to be sensitive to your pain but I have become numb instead.

I want to reach out and love you in your brokenness but I am afraid of your splinters cutting into me.

I stay within a comfortable distance

You feel the coldness

From dying embers I refuse to fan.

You say at least you're honest

And acknowledge you need redemption

While I feign strength by feeding on other people's weakness.

Alright, I've stashed my broken pieces

Neatly where they fit together like an unbroken whole

Yours is scattered all over the floor and if I'm not careful

Could wound me so deeply, too,

Making us two deeply wounded people.

Forgive me for being selfish.

Maybe I ought to be braver enough to invade your darkness with some of my light if I am to help you out of it

But I have tried many times and lost strength midway I had to save myself before I drown in your darkness.

Your brokenness breaks me

I watch you struggle and I wish I could understand

But instead, I get mad.

For me, blue is blue and red is red

For you, today's red is tomorrow's blue and the cycle goes on.

I want the colors to fit neatly in the square while you scribble all over and beyond the sides.

You have such kindness and pure intention

Your brokenness makes you tender

My wholeness makes me proud.

I pray I will learn to love you in your brokenness

Like you try to love me in mine.

We really are all broken people.

I'm just a little to proud to show it.

I'm awake.

2 minutes before my alarm.

Hate that.

Rub my eyes

Reach for my phone to see if the world ended over night.

It didn't.

Slum down the hall

Contemplating whether I really need this job

Contrary to popular belief Wednesday is the worst day of the week

The day before Friday Eve

Fucking Wednesday

I open the front door to see what this hump day has to offer

It hits me

That bright light pierced through my cloudy morning distain

The glow melting my Wednesday contempt

Sun

Palm trees

Blue sky

The warmth of a sunny California day

Soft whisper of a SoCal breeze

Negative thoughts slither back under my bed

The warm comfort of hope washing over

Breathe in

Eyes batter renewed exuberance

At night sadness, regret and failures drown me

Swallowed

But somehow the day reaches in and saves me

Warns off the shadows

Ignites my froze over faith

Shatters my cocoon of defeat and questioned self-worth

Breathe out

Hello Wednesday

I need to escape.

I can't breath.

I can't scream.

I can't think.

These voices are taking over me.

Help.

Run.

There is no use.

No escape from this.

Dead.

I unfold myself, and open,

the air is abrasive to lines

of raw crease where I tried

to cover the stains

with the other side of me.

but there's a cost to

turning inside out.

nothing goes back in

like you remember

and some of it doesn't fit.

but it's sunny on the parkway

and I've got shit to do.

so I pack what I need

and lie to myself that

the rest of it was never there.

"I remember that it hurt. Looking at her hurt."

Father Time could not count the seconds that were lost

When held in her gaze

Mother Nature could not have made a force more destructive

Than those final words she uttered towards me

"I no longer feel the same"

Earth's orbit ceased to exist

And the only thing that made any sense now

Was death itself

Depression in all sense held no place for what I felt

So he called his cousin Despair

To see if he could fish me out of his well

And when Despair had no luck catching a bite from me

They pulled out the big guns and notified the twins

Sorrow and Distress

And to their surprise rose my fractured shell from the pit of sadness

Into the now colorless word

With both eyes in hand

Tonights glorious bonfire borne

Happiness beyond belief

Eradicating the very problems

You and I both want to abandon

Aimless souls wandering towards

Realms of the inevitable

Emotions that were to

Nail the two between a cross

Of stable emotions

With intentions clear to them

Opposites with absent parts

Never clinging to unwanted trials

Layered with problems that both

Yield to step towards

Metaphorical sentences

Encases in bodies

Man scribes for future journeys

Only left to succumb to

Rotting like wood in thought pools

Investing every second to feel

Entire again

Stuck in false hopes of happiness

Gained by the feelings of comfort

Along the streets of memory lane

Tethered to a soul

Helplessly devoted to a love

Endlessly waiting for time to

Reverse, trying to

Escape the

Death of something once golden