Tuesday, February 15, 2011


Mom, do you feel the
poetry burning with passion through
my eyes?
the disguise,  a flame from the skies
of blue that my shattered soul
stares behind

your fucking words burn me alive
at the stake
they set fires in my heart
that scream out for heaven and

i don’t believe in love anymore

wars fought between our hearts
and opposing minds
from years of bullshit held in
and out

can you really say that you believe in love?

unconditional --- bullshit

from a mother’s womb, her
love consumed with future doom
that i forever fuck with—
this doom a fucking noose
held in knots around my throat and
you’re strangling me with your bullshit
and my heart will fucking rot
by your locked opinions that
you consider facts because after
all, a mother knows best right?

but i don’t believe in love anymore

you say my punishment isn’t
because of hatred, but love
yet you continue to take away
my life day after day, night after
night, nailing me to a fucking tree
that you planted and cut down for that
one moment where you could be god
of your world and of mine, and forsake me—
your son, sacrificing me to the pits
of hell:
the center of your hatred heart

is your very desire to take what I
live for? must i die in vain?
the pain of your inane methods
chains me down in something I don’t even
believe in anymore

i’d rather fuck all the whores and prostitutes
with passionless ecstasy than define this
dancing devil called anger anything
but hatred

yet you call this bullshit love?

you execute me to solitude confinement
when you know my deepest
demon is loneliness?
and you come barging through
my fucking door
with bullshit excuses to try
and see if i am disobeying your
commands when you’re the very last
person i wish to see because
you see I want to be happy but not with you and me,
with a girl who can see me for what I really am:
a poet, not your fucking image of
a perfect son that you’ve set your
high hopes up for
as you come barging through my door—
you rally for a false reality
set in technicality
trying to transform the center of
my being into your love for
other people’s opinions
and your dreams

you don’t care about me but how other’s see
you and perceive your parenting skills
i wish i could tell everyone how
i’d kill to feel loved
but you set your heart above for
my brother but not your
other son
how every night is filled with screams
of rage that are so passionate and real
they could set the house on fire
with just a blink of an eye

the rage that wrecks all
homes and turns them into just
houses, where moms are
not moms anymore
but mothers—

your tongue’s like a time bomb
tick, tick, ticking lies of unconditional lovers

but i don’t believe in love anymore

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