What if every fight in me,
was defeat mimicking another reality, held in secrecy, from the world I once knew.
What then I ask, the mirrored face- one that can’t possibly be… who am I?
Will I ever escape this spectre following, or is that my shadow disappearing to the sky.
Some questions vaporize.
I’ll settle for no reply.
Watch me disintegrate.
Ashes spread, far and wide.

Hard to Believe

“It’s hard to believe”, but just play along.
I’ve been screaming at the walls,
before you came to rescue me,
I was already gone.

Throttle deep into these loveless friends,
on your knees, feigned beliefs.
Thinking this will all work out in the end.


Fuck your happy smiling faces
It’s all bull and shit,
relentless heartache to go along with it,
Staring into the face of the indifferent sun.
or maybe I’m the one who’s dumb.

Here at last, in protest of the dark past, having the worst of days,
aren’t you bummed you didn’t ask,
“Are you okay?”


I’m not okay.


Useless throes, fulfilling woes,
my face- an undesirable mess.
How average I can be,
disappear into a back-lit tapestry.
Where no one pretends to care.
Blending into the atmosphere.
No one spews about what it’s like
to be “beautiful on the inside”

All I feel is ugly.

To be desired, to feel some worth,
scalpel away dead cells
new skin, a time of rebirth.
Darkness falls, shades of grey.
It’s where you were all along.
Hiding away, like a freak.

We all die with broken hearts.

Ugly. Unloved. Alone.


My walk down memory lane cut short.
I sought you out and fell into
a crowd of unknowing fools.
No one knew you the way I did.
…or at least how I remember you.

Your spark ignited my
sprawling wonderment.
Daydreamer, rascal, lover- miscreant.
Sitting on my left shoulder,
dueling the angel, stage right.
No encore.
I hope the hard reality of each day
pulls harder
when you descend.
So I can hold you in my mind
for one last moment, in time.
I must’ve recounted past days,
reminisced and stole away.
Thousand hours of drifting
in a foreign land, with no return.
No way out.
No reason to leave, just yet.

I drift into your ghostlike arms
for a warm, familiar embrace,
suspended long enough
for one last stroll
down memory lane.


How inhospitable,
the rise and demise of those who mean so little.
In Fall, where leaves desperately cling to limbs, inimitable.
All you wanted was the air to clear.
The caustic fog and soluble veneer.
Dyed in the wool of living souls,
stolen to save the dying few.
Body bags line the floor.
Holding out for a few more.

Blood pools, veins bruise, embalmed in the place where furnace embers await.
The tear-stained ruin of man’s decay.
Hushed silence, the last minutes of sunrise in complete disarray.

The tag on your toe, says no John Doe.
Awaiting in hopes, the gods take hold.
Envisaged by living who have to let go.


To you, my two scrappy, fierce boys now all grown into men. I’ll watch your flowers bloom, you’ll both need love too.
More than what I have, because some day I’ll bow out. My best days behind me, each one a treasure because you were there with me.
When you start anew, find it happens to us all. But that’s a long way off.
Both of you– grapple with this shift into greatness. It blossoms as the sky envelopes all your daydreams.

Believe me when I tell you this, moments don’t last, just when it seems in your grasp, they’re going to fly, elusive, and when you close your eyes, it’s gone.
Take your shots, it’s the only life you got.
Every breath hard fought, each passing thought, single memories that you build up from the ground, forge into a standard of existence as you boys grow up, grow old, find your happiness, and know when to let go.
If they keep you warm at night, hug them close. Nothing can strip your afterglow.

…and remember all the you love you’ve ever known.

You’ll cherish these moments, when days have gone past.
They linger in the bittersweet, where every memory is yours to keep.


We were left for dead,
lest we forget
the way it was before.
Free rent inside our heads- divided,
inside the middle of this shitshow.
My hate for you with no dispute.
Dying on a golden shore
we were promised so much more
a lie, pour salt on the open sore.
Powder and residue.
Unkempt wounds,
wide as the sky
tears of the sun
darkened view.
Far from the world we knew.

The sign read “we were here”
even when the end was clear.
A promise of freedom
for the ‘chosen few’.
Message from a cold dead world
bodies strewn, our epitaph,
With my last words..