Tech support # 5

Five days a week—self sentenced to a cubical cell

Unhappy masochist

Does that make you a sadist?

Or a hodgepodge that hates bob in accounting

Ring. Ring. Ring!

Pick the phone up — express your pain

or a scripted greeting

Show emotion lose your job

Lose your family; lose your mind

Finally, lose track of time after downing

Thirty painkillers —five hours later sentenced

to a coffin and then your next of kin

calls tech support to access the stocks you invested in

Watching the world go ‘round

How you talk to yourself is rude

You are more than a crude piece of crud

 Flirt with your creativity

She is the only one that will listen

Watch your train of thoughts

Jump the track and wake up to the fact

That God didn’t break the mold

When he made you. He kept making

A limited supply. So meeting those like you

may seem impossible but I swear not improbable

so forget about worrying about missing bolts and pieces

not because you will be incomplete forever

but instead, everything you are was meant to be together

Photo by Ketut Subiyanto from Pexels

Scribbles of a mad man

Fragments of poems never completed as of last night

I can’t cry
Not because I’m a man
But cause I don’t feel 
Good enough
For the relief 
A toxic belief 

My self inflicted wounds
aren't battle scars
The razors relieve the pain
As I remember battles loss

Is this hell?
Can’t be because 
we learned about hell
while in hell
That’s like a fish knowing 
It's in an ocean
What do we know then…

I say I am numb
But really that is dumb
The pain…

What are we doing 
Playing pretend all life long
None of this is real can 
refer to the physical and mental

The good don’t die young
Instead the weak and feeble
That sounds harsh or evil
But humanity is no steeple
of divinity. 

Ever notice how pain last forever
But happiness fizzles out like 
A can opened and left out

Photo by Danya Gutan from Pexels


Listening to my mind listing all my failures

wishing that it stop reciting the humiliating ones

voices in my head who paid rent twelve months ahead

are why I’ll always be alone but never alone

loud, proud, and wild—as seen from the outside

inside, I’m drifting between death and misery

Photo by Tuur Tisseghem from Pexels

Tech support # 4

Yes, Fred, you can go-ahead

I changed your password to greatfull_dead

Well it’s a temp password cause our IT director

Values security over practicality

You will have to create a new password after logging in

No, I don’t think you should write it down with a pen

That would defeat the purpose

Yes, having your password on a post-it note makes me nervous

Love at first type

I’m going to be alright

But I missed you tonight

Remembering late nights on the phone

Cause we both were alone

You made me hate myself a little less

Was it fate that brought us together after working relentless

I fell in love with you, but no one believed that

Cause it was sight unseen—all through chat

during the new regime of the internet

My aunt figured it was a predatory scheme

The first time I heard your voice it brought calm to the noise

though I was still filled with dread

Cause it had been years since I pressed a phone to my weary head

Your compassion cleaved the fear in half

Started talking for hours, just you and I

The first time I hated goodbyes

I wanted you to know I been thinkin bout you

You may not care but my heart—the loving part

Is running on empty but still fumes

of past love keeps it alive

Photo by Miguel Á. Padriñán from Pexels

The blues

Sharp pencil but a broken stencil

So I draw what is in my mind

But my relations with critics is the opposite of commensal

I try crayons but hate math so I rather not color by numbers

I want to go somewhere to loath

Too bad: full tank but flat tires

rebel with too many causes cause the horrors

of reality never pauses

falling apart while watching lives I’ll never live

a broke bloke that wants an invisibility cloak

trying to blow my head off with a starter pistol

None the less, I’ll take anything but more pity

Photo by Mateus Souza from Pexels

I hurt so bad inside

Don’t judge me by my stride

its not a mask–just how I look

not my fault you can’t comprehend

Yet i have hope you could be a friend

so I vomit my feelings

but leave no impact

your preconceived assumptions still intact