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I think i have the plague. It is growing inside me like a watermelon seed, but it’s only for female humans, eating away at intestines, at my heart and my lungs and I cannot breathe I am drowning drowning from the past and the blackness of my future as it envelopes me into looking into glass nothingness. My reflection does not stand but walks away from me, shaking her head, tears licking the floor as she slips away from me. And I want to know, where did she go? what do I do

now.

Posted By Scythe42 On 03.31.2013 @ 10:40 pm

My whole body is numb. I want to fix the problems, fix his brain. I want to carve his neurons into computers, abiding my please of quieting his jokes and his antics. I want him to say “how was your day dear?” I want him to hold a conversation that doesn’t involve mocking or joking or anything. Just him. I want to drill his skull and rip out the half of his brain that is his ego, that is his shield from low-self esteem, insecurity. I want to take the armor from the child and tell him he is only a child, and that it is ok to be only a child and one should be a child during most phases of life. And that it is not a crime to be unsure of one’s choices, one’s life. I’m tired of bracing the wave to find the man on the raft floating in the sea, waiting for me to find him, starving for water, for breath. I am tired of invading his inner circle and getting electrocuted by his thunderous words. While I slowly, after every shock, creep towards him a little more, tears streaming down my face. Finally he sees the tears and stops the thunder and tears roll down his face as well, and he wants to break his own skull and shed his own skin. But it is tomorrow. Ordinary. And his armor protects him so once again, once he forgets about the tears. And his thunderous words starts again until he remembers again after he smells the salt water on my face. I wait until he remembers, another day.

Posted By Scythe42 On 02.20.2013 @ 6:55 pm

I fall into a crack like a computer virus, some misfit in juvenile detention, wondering how I got here, where I am, who I could possibly be in this crack in time, isolated from the universe, the forces that made me win, made me succeed as I followed them into the vortex of utter terror, like a sheep following the dinosaur into the comets. But why can’t I leave them? Am I any better by simply following the herd? Failure always ends in failure and independence does the same. It’s no fun and games.

Posted By Scythe42 On 12.06.2012 @ 1:21 am

The world keeps moving, like a Charlie Brown song on repeat, reiterating its existential qualities. And we bury our past, forget what we learned from the mistakes and the horrors of everyday life, depressive episodes of boys and knives. And it keeps us moving through the seasons, until we can no longer see them, and what we see is a blurry memory of a moment, when we first realized what we wanted was there all along. And what we thought we wanted was something not gone. And what we thought we needed was only but a red herring in a story shrouded in mystery. And life keeps moving whether we think about it or just let it be.

Posted By Scythe42 On 10.15.2012 @ 11:28 pm

The clothing hugged me like cling-wrap. I felt bound, like I was walking underwater, and my legs could feel everything as I moved across the ocean floor. They felt lighter somehow, but more of a binding than my old clothes. More expectations and more people Looking at me. Why would these people Look at me as I walk the ocean floor? The stares don’t belong underwater.

Posted By Scythe42 On 09.10.2012 @ 11:43 pm

The brushes enter your ear like warm sand on your face. Her voice like sunshine on a cold winter day. The tangy guitar bittersweet-ly stings your ear like biting into a fierce orange. The words enter your mind like a wave washing away the sand you stand on. And you take a breath, and sit for a while. Letting the breeze, the sound, pass through you like water around your ankles. Smooth and warm and comforting.

Posted By Scythe42 On 09.07.2012 @ 12:31 am

I slip under the grass like a child’s blanket. The sky, crystal blue above me, reminds me of my future self, staring endlessly into a vast, beautiful emptiness that is my life. The potential to reach some infinite wisdom, some vastness as wide as the sky as I lay there contemplating my existence, sleeping underneath comfort.

Posted By Scythe42 On 09.06.2012 @ 10:56 pm

My head bobs slowly, a buoy in the sea, bobbing up and down and up and down and up and down until the waves the sound pushes me back and forth, every beat a separate froth against the shore, sweeping against my legs, caressing my skin as soft as feathers, lulling me to a curious safety, dozing me off to shore.

Posted By Scythe42 On 08.30.2012 @ 12:34 am

Hiccups are like awkward chickens. Poems are like awkward sentences mingled with sense and wisdom, like a penny hitting the ground tails up. And sometimes life is an awkward breath, a frantic inhalement of air until you take a few breaths and breathe out, slowly at first, eyes open wide, until you take a sip of lemon juice and a tear falls out of your eye, until you wake up and realize life is one hiccup after the next, and you laugh and catch your breath, waiting for another to hit you.

Posted By Scythe42 On 07.20.2012 @ 12:52 am

He wore overalls. I wondered why choices are so hard to make when they are not for someone else. The sky widens like some apocalypse, lightning ready to strike us down at any moment. The thunder I could feel inside me, pounding on my sternum, ready to break free of the horrors, the science, the concrete, the hopeless.

Posted By Scythe42 On 07.07.2012 @ 10:17 pm

My configuration is growing weirdly. My body rejecting the thoughts and feelings that I try so hard to embed into my skin. My brain trying to overtake my organs and my skeleton, trying to change my configuration. control alt delete, control alt delete, it will not listen to me.

Posted By Scythe42 On 06.27.2012 @ 10:50 pm

Sometimes I remember the walks we took at 9:27, the stars lighting the grass and the fireflies, tiny flying comets in our midst. We held our hands and lulled through the grass humming quiet tunes to ourselves and wondering how this night could have anymore memories attached. Feelings held. We wondered.

Posted By Scythe42 On 06.06.2012 @ 8:30 pm

Midnight walks, lights shading the triangles, the structures of sturdiness that we seem to live in so easily, with our shelter and our arrogance, leading us to nothing except green paper that doesn’t even mean anything. There’s no value. Midnight walk, the world seems lighter in the dark, truer. Life shines from the moon so much better than the sun, the cool air brushing against the surface of my face, realizing truth.

Posted By Scythe42 On 05.30.2012 @ 1:11 am

The night sky gleamed in the open field as a pile of logs burnt heavy summer flames. The grass hot with ash and paper crumbs. People making noise, light banter, a few punches being thrown, bodies striving to get off of the grass floor, back up again to throw another punch, laughter surrounding like fireflies, popping up here and there. It was a night everyone would remember.

Posted By Scythe42 On 05.19.2012 @ 11:05 pm

The backspace key is pressed down, but does not know what is pressing it, only that is exists, not that it exists attached to a “keyboard”, a thing made of plastic, its insides working with “electricity” and copper wires. The words I do not wish I had typed, they are erased as I press backspace. But the backspace does not care, does not know. It has no intentions of taking back an “I love you,” an angry comment, a terrible drunken email. It does not Know that we honor it so much, appreciate this gift we are allowed, to take back words, to restart our sentences, our feelings, our thoughts. It does not Know.

Posted By Scythe42 On 05.17.2012 @ 11:58 am

I disregarded the one word and wrote about dark matters. I disregard people who bother me because I believe that will make me look strong and fearless, and not damaged by words. If I don’t respond I will show discipline and strength, instead of having complaints zoom out of my mouth like space ships. I would be Strong and it would look like I didn’t Really care what anyone thought of me. And then I realized that no one really thought of me.

Posted By Scythe42 On 05.13.2012 @ 9:55 pm

People elude me. Sometimes I wonder if hate and love are as close as edges on a sword. While sitting on the line, the blade cuts a deep wound, a clean vertical slit under your eyes, slowly widening each time a thought appears. Each time you doubt the personality of the world, that someone has been fooling you all along, that he is not who he says he is, how he says he is. Sometimes I wonder if the stinging numbs me so, like a swim in the lake, pieces of glass floating on the surface of the dark substance, your cranium wanting to slip below the glass, and exhale little by little as you try to find the bottom of the abyss. If the slit under your eyes is something you most desire, not willing to flip a coin, not willing to decease your questions. Not willing to ask to get the answers.

After so many slices stinging your skin, you would rather seal your skin with pebbles, transform into a rock and sink into the bottom of the abyss you’ve been wondering about. The one you’ve been missing, the one you left so long ago. The one you need.

Posted By Scythe42 On 05.13.2012 @ 5:31 pm

I never hear the trains go by anymore. I hear them almost every time of night. But I don’t recognize a bit of sound. But when I walk by them I can see the metal tanks, the massive weights being pushed laterally along metal railroad tracks, everything ten times the size of me. Here the tracks sit among gravel, dirt, trees. In some ways, although I can’t always hear it, I see how glorious the tracks are, traveling, embedded into the earth for miles to serve our own primitive needs. We owe some appreciation to the world and to mundane marvels we pass everyday, without blinking.

Posted By Scythe42 On 05.10.2012 @ 9:57 pm

He is willful not to give into his emotions, his rage, blood coming to a boil, calms like the ocean after a thunderstorm. His will suppresses all emotion to get the best solution for his problem. Feelings just get in the way, road blocks; they take us on detours. And who would want to drive near the cliff if you can simple travel in a tunnel? Emotions are unnecessary, useless tools.

Posted By Scythe42 On 04.05.2012 @ 10:54 pm

The man was wearing a hood, hunched over like a bat sleeping in a dark cave, and he was wearing sneakers. I remember his silhouette as he walked down the hill, and I wondered where was he going. What would anyone do at three in the morning that was not disconcerting. And I wondered, what was I doing.

Posted By Scythe42 On 04.04.2012 @ 5:01 pm

I stood on the ground where they dug you up, and laid you back down again. I stood on the ground, wanting to take back the earth just to see your face. I don’t know what to say. The world works in no kind of way. Your body stays a few feet below us, not far from us.

Even if your ashes floated in the sky, settled on a tree branch, you would still hear every step I took, every breath I took. You would be there for it all. I thank you. I’m sorry for what I took. You are always here.

Posted By Scythe42 On 03.27.2012 @ 7:00 pm

This is not a normal pattern. Boy and girl talk, become friends, in a few months become more than friends. Boy and girl want to be together, miss each other, want to be in the same state. The same room would be pushing the limits. Boy and girl are still together, waiting to get one more chance to feel how we felt, like we always feel in our minds and in our hearts, on our skin. We want to laugh in the same room just once more. That will be enough for the next time. That will be enough for us.

Posted By Scythe42 On 03.15.2012 @ 11:54 pm

I don’t know what strange things will happen, or over what duration. But I do know that I’ll try to try them out, see what people are really like, how they change, try to keep my friends over the years the same. And the best part is that it’s easy to do, because they’re just as crazy as I am, and have not much to lose, because we are all crazy at some point in our lives. And wouldn’t it be nice if today was the day?

Posted By Scythe42 On 03.14.2012 @ 11:13 am

This is a poem about hypocrites. And music I hear. The everything’s going to be alright poem. The it’s alright to be a bad person, because we all make mistakes, because we’re human beings poem. The it’s not alright to be stupid poem. The think things through before you act poem. The reflection on sounds, accordions, guitars, harmony, and blue birds flying above your head poem. The what is life all about poem. The swaying of the clouds in the sky as the piano hits the keys, flying like a bird right near the sun, as you look up to see your kite, as a little boy, with such awe as to how that bird can fly, and how wonderful that it can.

Posted By Scythe42 On 03.09.2012 @ 11:41 pm

As I walk along the sidewalk, rain lightly patters my black coat and sits in the puddle just in front of me.

As I wade through the water I think about bayous and swamps, alligators and mosquitoes hovering in my old time-encapsulated picture.

I hear the splish of muddy water on my shoe, giving my ear a pleasant tone to hum to, my mind settling in for a night in the rain.

Posted By Scythe42 On 02.15.2012 @ 10:51 pm

I went to a carnival with you and you gave me a teddy bear but I wouldn’t let you give it to me because you deserve something too, like some popcorn or cotton candy, but instead I just took the bear and walked with you. I guess you didn’t really care either. We were there.

Posted By Scythe42 On 02.13.2012 @ 8:00 pm

Sleep is like a magical carpet floating beneath you, as your roll along the clouds in the sweet night sky. Birds held up in trees, going into a deep slumber, falling like a feather onto a bed of grass. Looking at the stars as they graze past us at the speed of nothingness. Motionless.

Posted By Scythe42 On 02.10.2012 @ 9:38 pm

I’m a glutton. I like any kind of sweets, I love sour candy, and dark as dark chocolate can be. I like red meat and if I could eat it raw without a consequence I would do so easily. I don’t drink, and I don’t smoke, and I don’t assume copious amounts of Coke. I have a problem and I know it. But it’s better than getting lung cancer or driving while I’m drunk, or getting run over. I know I’m a hypocrite to some extent, but at least I know it. And even though I’m bad at writing, at least I know I’m a poet.

Posted By Scythe42 On 02.10.2012 @ 7:48 pm

I hate the world. It reeks of double standards and ill will, deceit and miscommunication. Anything that happens is always someone’s fault, there’s blame like a flame burning and ash left behind, blame for the stupid things people do on a whim without thinking about him. People are the worst at terribleness. They are the most evil of nature. They trick you and your mind tricks you and the cloud over your head tricks you as it rains and rains all day and you’re not really sure how it will ever go away. And it’s there and you can’t get blamed because it’s not you it’s the cloud and the rain drowning you, putting out that flame and I see ash all I see is ash and nothing will ever be new and it will just keep burning, keep drowning like firewater, burning away with hopelessness.

Posted By Scythe42 On 01.27.2012 @ 9:24 pm

Just want a little cry before I die, if everything I’ve done wasn’t right. If what I am is not enough, if my brain is not large enough to encompass the span of criticism i have received, to fix it. To make my creations better, my effort larger than 100%. My hinge is slowly cracking, rusting away, wishing I had never created this hinge in the first place. I shouldn’t care, I shouldn’t try, I just want to cry a little before I die. Isn’t that enough to ask?

Posted By Scythe42 On 01.23.2012 @ 11:20 pm