I want to be in love

With someone that can outrun

My fear to commit and acquit

Me of charges of misanthropy

In love with someone that is a perfect fit

like a surgical glove

In love with someone who makes me forget

about celibacy because relationships

Make me feel like I am selling a bit of me

At the high cost of my sanity

Nothing else matters when you

Blow your brain matter across the wall

I bet it looks like flung batter

…where am I going with this

I am lonely; if I say anything otherwise

it would be baloney—a lie from a phony

but I hate when people phone me

add to that don’t hold onto me or I will feel crappy

as though I took a sip from the dead sea

wait let’s go back…

I am so lonely that it would be phony

to say some baloney like

I need someone to hug me

because I rather a chill numb me

than endure the scorching warmth of another body

Next to me.

I know you are strong so don’t get me wrong

When I say you deserve the delicate wash

While others get spun around in a tumbler

God made no blunder when he forged you

Strong as an ox but prettier than the paper lantern wings of a butterfly

You have never been a fumbler over your dissenting opinions

Each one a petal that you prick eagerly to express

And share yourself

Some fools toss them away

while wishing your kind to be lost in the fray

Yet your personality shows no sign of fraying

While you keep obeying your purpose in life

Like a beam of sun predestined to light the way for the wayward

Over analytical

I am a radical that thinks he is free

How laughable the way I walk about with a basketful

Of idioms and wisdom that no one finds relatable

So my presence is just emblematical

Or a sign of what’s fallible

So basically I am over-analytical among the mentally paralytical

Yeah, that is me



My therapist said my ‘cycles’ argument was over analytical…

Some say all we need is love

I know where I stand; not below or above

Go ahead release the doves

Then offer an olive branch

Without honesty that is all noise to me

It’s not a cycle but cycles

Like trillions of bicycles making

Laps around a track

So pedaling forward is just a trifle

Muscles grow but profundity no one knows



I woke up wondering how much longer I am going to think the same thoughts/ feel the same feelings / listen to the same music / etc. Some ancient societies placed a great importance on cycles every few to millions of years. I feel cycles happen every day and life itself is just endless cycles of doing stuff with no purpose.

I leave in my wake friends with regrets

We use each other like cigarettes

Then discard one another like the dead in a graveyard

I don’t even walk away screaming epithets

I simply learned to collect enemies with benefits

I enjoy these whiny chumps who beget insults—their only show of wit

Simple flunkies imitating mobster movies

But truly they are lobsters—goofy looking bottom feeders

You should never have trusted Hollywood

The glam pictures and photo editing is firewood

You burn it in your furnace with earnest

The heat rises at the same speed as your dismay

As you breathe in the billowing smoke

You get high off of self-hatred and dreams of a life wasted

Crush the pills or keep them under the tongue

Drift away and climb hills leaving all notions of bills behind

This land is no place for a hero—only the rowdy and young

The wind is blind as it carries your scent to the hypnotized

Always primed to divide and make a mountain out of the benign

Their slanderous ways are brine corroding your inner shrine

Yet drugs keep the peace as they break you down to pieces

What happens when selective nihilism meets entitlement

Money as good as dispersed napkins to buy manufactured entrapment

‘what you own ends up owning you’

But everyone wants to get degrees and pay down interest fees

Their will to thrive vanishing second by second like honey bees