5. lives lost

senior year flies by,
but as dark as the times were,
one had stood taller than
all of them,
and i didn’t think i’d be
hiding in a closet,
praying for my life,
but the man carried a gun
and he shot out them all,
i’d watch my classmates die,
bullets spray and bodies drop,
shot with not an inkling
of regret,
i couldn’t ever forget it.

i wanted to close
my eyes to avoid
the image,
but my worry crept that
if i did,
i’d never open them again,
so i saw every bit,
didn’t move an inch,
watched as a cop came
and cuffed him in,
carried him off,
my teacher found me,
guided me out,
couldn’t breathe at all
mama ran up to me,
tears welling,
squeezed what little air
was left in me out,
all i could think of
was the parents who
couldn’t squeeze theirs.

i always tried my best
to conceal my emotions,
but it was hard not to cry
during my graduation
as i sat in a row filled
with empty chairs,
loud and clear,
heard every name
that didn’t make it,
just because some asshole
thought it would be fun
to take away the rest
of their lives,
now our times
of celebration
will only be somber
and harder to take.

motherfucker.

4. him

mom took me out
for middle school,
she knew i wouldn’t
stay with them,
all i wanted was
to finally be happy,
someone who wasn’t
so afraid,
live a life of joy and pride,
and just maybe, i’d be able
to show the world a smile
just once or twice,
and for a while,
i did do that,
mostly because of him.

eighth grade,
one little day,
went to his house
to play,
maybe an hour in,
and he held my hand,
in just a minute,
he went in for a kiss,
the rush of his lips,
left breathless,
i loved him more than anything,
we must’ve done it every day,
we never told a soul,
but the fire burned so hot,
he saw past my scars
and i looked past his,
it was just such bliss.

i wanna say it ended
in a beautiful way,
but just one day
after we’d graduate,
they’d found him laid
across the floor,
antidepressants spilled
around a lifeless corpse,
had enough of the pain
inflicted by a mom who
never saw past the label,
God apparently couldn’t
accept him, so he left us,
wrote me a note,
said he loved me but lacked
the strength to go on,
and i cried for days,
still can’t take it,
miss him greatly,
still hurts me to say,
my first one gone
at fourteen.

i still haven’t forgiven her.

3. gay

the thread broke,
one day,
mom had enough
and kicked his ass out,
he tried telling her that
she would regret it,
but she never did,
and his new chick didn’t
stand for his shit,
a single hit and he
got sent to prison,
don’t know for how long,
i hope that he found it in him
to stop with the drinks
when he got out.

but i couldn’t take the time
to notice when i got to that age,
mama sent me to school,
things started okay,
but one day, it all escaped,
third grade, sat by and watched
all the games they played,
got picked for football,
those memories of dad
came circling back,
i froze in my spot,
only to move when
the pigskin flew,
full force to my face,
it knocked me down,
all in fear, shed a tear
or two
as i laid in the pain.

no one came to help,
they all just laughed,
a boy stopped to lift me,
i gave him a hug,
i cried in his shoulder,
“fag!”
i heard from a blonde kid
in the back,
and my boy ran away,
every damn day,
they’d talk to me like that,
i’d sit on the step
on my own,
they’d walk by
and say “hey,
that kid is gay!”
laugh and fling hate
my way,
tell me i’d go
down below
when it was time
to leave.

that sounded better than school.

2. thread

i go back to when
i was four and my
feet finally moved,
and my mouth,
it finally spoke,
all my thoughts
could now come out,
and they became aware
of what was around them,
now conscious that the
people in my house
had created me,
but i wondered if they’d
loved me in the way
they lusted for each other
on that night.

i still don’t know why
dad hated me,
but the only time
he seemed to care
was when he’d take me
to throw the football around,
as if i had even a fleeting
interest in it,
more bored by the moment,
pulled me in by my arm,
the grip so tight, i thought
he’d rip it from the socket,
and he threw me down
on the couch,
his scream boomed so loud,
it woke the houses
around the corner from us.

mom ran down right
as dad would slap me,
my guardian angel,
she stood and absorbed
his blows as i laid and cried,
saw the look in his eyes,
not a moment of regret,
until hours later when
he would apologize
just so they could
fuck the hate away,
just a ruse to jump
back in her pants,
make her weak and have her
scream for some more.

hung by a thread.

1. state of mind

finding that life takes me
down to the drain
every day,
can’t stay at peace
because all i see is gray,
blurred by the drink
and the xan,
i can’t clean off the table,
it’s infested with the snow,
grass pokes itself out,
as i lie on my couch,
floor is littered with orange,
got a call from my mom,
i hope she isn’t suspicious
since i need a new prescription.

got a bit of an addiction,
i call it hedonism,
and it’s the only lane
of escape,
i only find joy in a bottle,
a tablet to my face
sets me free,
temporarily,
as the come down only
makes me see this pain
more clearly,
body’s giving out,
everyone’s gone,
just a few spirits that
try to be my company,
even when destroying myself,
they won’t find their way
to the door.


take me to the roof,
it’s the only place
i find some clarity at,
the cold air tries, in vain,
to sober me up,
and it clears the blur,
i stare in front of me,
overlook the city,
for a second, i see
some beauty,
the night sky
actually decided
to shine tonight,
it was quite the sight.

now i see it all.

tragedy preface

it’s been almost five months since i last released a poetry project. i’ve definitely been doing a lot of writing, but senior year of school has been busy, and since i’m taking a poetry class, it’s been hard to focus on the poems i’m writing for the class, as well as my own. wanna make sure they don’t overlap and all. anyway, i now have a new mini-album, which i call “tragedy.” true to the title, it’s a fictional, overarching story that centers around tragedy. originally, it was going to be a full-length project, but after writing the closer to this mini-album, i felt that i had stretched the concept as far as i possibly could, and thought it’d be best to leave it at that. for the most part, the project has been done for a few months, but i waited to release it because i wanted to make some changes based on things i learned in my poetry class. also, i wanted to show these poems to a few people before releasing them. most of the time, i don’t do that, but the content on this record is extremely dark, uncomfortable and triggering, to the point where i wanted to show it to others before i released it publicly. fortunately, i feel it’s ready to be released, and i’m very proud of it. again, these aren’t really personal stories, as i wanted to challenge myself with this mini-album to work with more adult themes, as opposed to talking about myself. and of course, trigger warnings are in full effect here. these poems aren’t comfortable, but i feel that poetry isn’t inherently supposed to be, so i hope you check these poems out for yourselves:

1. state of mind

2. thread

3. gay

4. him

5. lives lost