My head is loud... It never stops, It never quiets. It only screams, It only riots. It's against serenity, It's against contentment. It wants anxiety, It wants resentment. My head is loud. My mind is angry. My ears are deafened. My eyes stare blankly.
Category: My Poetry
Pretenses
I didn't fall in love with him,
I fell in love with his potential.
I romanticized his possibilities,
instead of what was evidential.
I fell in love with who he could be,
but not for who he actually was.
I bargained with empty promises,
for the false pretenses of love.
Unwanted
You don't get to decide when you become unwanted by someone... That's not a choice you get to make. You're just left there alone outside a door swiftly slammed shut... That you'd once been able to take.
Returned
You gave me back the stars
that were doomed in my memory.
The constellations which had
left an acrid taste in mouth
now taste sweet.
The bitterness of their
sacred names swiftly dissipating
from my sullen tongue.
Snake
My anxiety is a snake slowly constricting the conflicted parts of my brain, increasing the tension on my subconscious worries and pains. It invites in my insecurities to intrusively choke me with doubts, but instead of expelling air it's belligerencies escaping from my mouth.
Agony
My agony feels like a red-hot and ragged blade stabbing into my sternum. It twists and digs its' way deeper into the pit of my stomach as my breaths become sharp and uneven. My lungs struggle, burning with each painful gasp. Making me fight for the air I don't even want to breathe...
Reminders
A hotel notepad and a beer bottle cap, three loose quarters and a constellation map. A missing black sock and a half melted shoe, are just some old objects still reminding me of you.
Thirty
I didn't think it would happen so soon, I swear I was just still using a Zune. I look back and see all the trauma and flaws, But also the triumphs that deserve an applause. There's memories I love and some that I hate, Yet all of them now I know were my fate. The years have gone fast but still seemingly slow, To end that rough chapter I needed to outgrow. So now here I am the day is arriving, To be thirty, still flirty, and continually thriving.
Quiet
When the quiet invites all the bad thoughts in... Screaming sounds better than havingto listen...
Your
Your voice is in my head but it's such an awful shame, that I can't see your mouth moving when you say my name. Your fingers tend to wander and play those little games, that heighten all my senses and implode all of my veins. Even with my eyes closed your face is in my brain, affixed into my memory while still shadowed by flame.
AO Poetry 
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