4. friends in high places

stuck in hiding

at the house

up on the hill,

had to run

from a life

i wasn’t ready for,

created my own

little haven

and tailor-made

my own parades,

free from the anxiety

that social life

provided me,

thought they’d all

be better off

so i left to find

my peace of mind,

learned to take joy

in the little things,

no pressure

or expectations,

just trimming hedges

and planting dandelions.

but sometimes,

it’s not all that

it’s cracked up to be,

almost forgotten

how to speak,

gets hard

when the only

conversations

are with the mirror

or the wall,

words are minimal,

but thoughts

become cynical

and the space starts

feeling liminal

as my brain keeps

playing push and pull,

suddenly,

it all feels harder

and i’m scared

the panic disorder

is gonna take me

and no one

will be here to see

because no one

would ever claim me.

but i’m not alone,

i’ve got

friends in high places,

and i know

they’re on their way soon,

haven’t seen ‘em

in years

but i know

they’re still here

somewhere,

i never gave ‘em

the address,

but i know

they’d never forget,

they remember me best,

i know

they never left,

i’ve even got

the table set,

so let’s go

and break some bread.

maybe tomorrow night.

3. two broken puzzle pieces

it’s bad for me

to think of you

the way i’ve been,

but for some reason,

i can’t quit ya,

you kissed me

in a way

that screwed up

my life,

but it was only ever

gonna last

one night,

and ever since,

i haven’t felt right,

the pursuit

of self-indulgence

gave us that time,

but i can’t just be

an object of pleasure,

and that’s the only thing

that keeps us together.

feel like

you only call

when it’s convenient,

only come around

when someone

won’t do you right,

disappear for two years

then fall back

when you need a fix,

i’m sorry,

but i can’t be

your experiment,

you might get

my language,

but maybe

that’s not the way

we should communicate,

i keep thinking

about calling,

but all the situations

i’m playing

in my head

don’t go so well

in the end.

i don’t love you,

i just love

the feeling you bring,

and i can’t

be stuck

in a situationship,

it’s not what i deserve

and not what you

should give,

two broken puzzle pieces

in the wrong place

don’t end up fixing

the bigger picture,

and no matter

how much i miss

what it felt like

in the moment,

it’s for the best

if we just leave it

where it is.

in the past.

2. rest my weary heart

need a place

to rest

my weary heart,

tryna keep it

in one piece

while i’m handing

everyone a piece,

the better everything seems,

the faster it beats,

and it sure beats

being numb,

but i wish there was

a moment of peace,

never know

if i’m doing it right,

indecisiveness strikes

while i’m writing

as i wonder

what i’m really feeling,

should i build the wall

or let myself fall?

seems low self-esteem season

is reappearing

as we’re reaching the fall.

always found myself

trying to stay

on the right side

of the wrong crowd,

took such

a hard left

that i started wondering

what the right side

really looked like,

then every time

i thought i was sure,

uncertainty brought me

right back to before,

love-bitten

and grief-stricken

at the same time,

wondering why

i can’t properly feel

what i want

without fear

of how i’ll fuck it up.

guess that’s

the story of one

who loves too hard,

a perpetual purpose

to please

all but myself,

never comfortable

when i feel like

i’ve found the one,

and it never

feels like i’ve won,

just like i’m stuck

and never know

what i want,

even when it’s standing

right in front

of me,

please let my heart

have a moment

to breathe,

give me a sign

that this time,

i can have

something nice.

just this once.

1. "write what you know"

thank you,

thank you,

thank you,

you’re far too kind…

ahem…

february

was the longest month

of my life,

but then

i blinked twice

and september came,

felt like frank

on that novacane,

saw the void

and ain’t been the same,

happy days

but i’m still in pain,

i’m okay

but i’m not okay,

nightmares

of the paramount

VHS tape,

they still play

in my head

and they just

won’t escape,

begging for

my dysthymia

to give me a break.

put on a little weight

while everyone

around me

was shedding theirs,

impossible

not to compare,

standing in the mirror

and i just can’t help

but stare,

something’s always

just a bit off,

i’m stronger,

but somehow

i’m more fragile

as i’ve gotten older,

facing life

on my lonesome,

supposed to be

part of the “new adults,”

but i’m feeling more

like a child with

each passing year,

what the hell

am i even supposed

to be doing here?

my purpose

starts to get fuzzy,

and the words i write

just don’t come to me,

it’s always been

“write what you know”

so why do i write

about love the most?

never had it,

not once,

and i’ll never be

what one wants,

so i’ll jot it

like i always do,

keep the pen moving

tellin’ the same story,

how’d i ever

deserve this stage?

i don’t even feel

like a king,

put the crown down,

i don’t need the clout,

strip the ego now

while i scream it out.

the wanderer.

the wanderer preface

hello again, readers, and as always, a warm welcome back. life has been chaos lately so i hope all of you are being gentle and taking good care of yourselves. i made you all wait a while for this project, and frankly, i myself couldn’t wait any longer, either; today, i bring you my 34th full-length poetry album, “the wanderer.” in the past, i’ve often gotten caught up on whether a poetry project should be fiction or nonfiction, and whether a project should have some kind of unique concept. with this record, however, i went in looking to not focus on such things, and my entire mindset in creating this album was “just write.” initially, this led to me having almost too many ideas (so much so that, as you may have noticed, some of my recent singles were initially intended for this album), but once everything fell into place, the process was freeing, and it led to the creation of what i believe to be my best album yet. it feels good to still be able to put out works like this that i’m so proud of even after so many years and so many poems. i hope you enjoy this new set of stories, and i hope you’re looking to the future, because i…well, let me not say more; i fear i may have already said too much:

1. “write what you know”

2. rest my weary heart

3. two broken puzzle pieces

4. friends in high places

5. for a season

6. all i had was my notepad

7. closing time at the milkboy

8. mazie

9. “he’s so stupid i love him”

10. me vs. me

a poem for the late nights

“don’t trust your brain

after 9 pm,”

but that’s the only voice

i know,

sat on the floor

in the dark

stuck on all the noises

in the walls,

i’d crawl to bed

if i could just move

my legs,

but i can barely

clear my head,

picturing all these

scenarios

that’ll never be

only does wonders

for my anxiety,

every time it feels

like i’ve quieted

these thoughts,

i start to zero in

on all my faults.

can’t stop wondering

if everybody hates me,

or if it’s just

my own expectations

i’m not living up to,

the years of suppressing

my emotions

are catching up to me,

men must be strong

so i held my tears in,

extended my arms

for so many

but never wanted

to get their shoulders wet,

turns out

i’m just too soft

for all of it,

too dependent

on everyone else

and too scared

to face it all alone,

so i spend

another late night

howling at the moon.

feeling like

i’m letting them down,

like i’m bad luck

for everyone

i stand around,

falling into

the same holes

i always drop in,

you’d think i’d learn

to walk around them,

but the cycle continues

and i can’t break it,

even when i know

my brain is lying,

i always find

a way

to lose myself,

feeling everything

too hard

and taking the fall

when it’s not my fault…

i just feel so lost.

nobody's sweetheart

never been

anybody’s best friend,

never been the one

in anyone’s future plans,

never the one

you introduce to the fam,

only in the scenarios

i play in my head,

i thought i’d be fine

on my own,

but i’ll admit,

i’m lost in all of it,

suddenly lovesick

tryna live

with the fact

that i’m only ever

a fallback,

singing love songs

in my room

to myself,

but never getting to know

what they really mean,

never getting

to be somebody

for somebody

‘cause nobody

ever truly needed me.

i’m nobody’s sweetheart,

missed my shot

with everyone

who could’ve been

“the one,”

didn’t even get

to treat love

like an experiment,

missed out

on the fun and flirty era

because i was waiting

for the wrong one,

lost my chance

with some good ones

because i was trying

not to miss it

with some i’d never have,

never left the door open

to let it in

because i built walls

to block the entrance,

waited too long

to break them down,

so good luck

climbing the rubble

if you wanna come in.

it’s where

i’ve always been,

but this house

no longer feels

like my home,

spending all my time

laying on the floor

stuck in my thoughts,

so lost in myself

that i don’t wanna get up,

thinking about how

everyone’s got someone,

starting to tie the knot

while i’m unraveling,

tripping over myself

and missing someone

that left me

on the shelf,

maybe we’d be together

in another universe,

but for me,

happy endings

don’t come so easy,

blink and i’ll be on

the last page

before you know it.

c’est la vie.