On your knees

Hands on your lap

Assume your position

On the floor

Head down towards the mat.


I want “yes sir” only

As I do as I please

Never shall you directly

Look at me.


Your opinion, your mind

Becomes moot under me

My rule is final

In this one sided hell.


Give up




Under my strong grasp

Never may you have any room to thrash.


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nothings changed

nothings changed


nothings changed



self loathing

significant other


fight picking


that they always

called you


nothings changed

when you still

want to pick fights

still want to



still want



i’m addicted






Many of the monsters that dwell in the deep

Evade the bottommost cave where she slumbers and sleeps.

Great are the restless reverberations so heavy against the walls.

Adaptive and at the ready to take captives in the brawls.

Mega is inside your mind with not

One trace of ever being kind.

Never could anyone stop the

Siege underwater in

Terror to terminate her offender’s falter.

Every soul make way for her path and

Reap the day you incited her wrath.

On the ship where she breached it’s “strong” wooden hull.

Coated in

Tentacles and suckers that attach to every last word’s skull. Built to

Overanalyze and overreact

Post-war it’s body is scar-racked. But today

It stayed to dwell in the cave, and was long forgotten under these quieting waves.



he hides under my bed

he hides inside my closet

he hides within those blankets

those pillows

those jackets

he hides within those jeans

he hides


let me set the scene:


there’s an abandoned home

where it’s all colored monochrome

a layer of dust has turned the colors

and now turns away any others


who would step foot here?

who would dare live here?

who would dare come here –even to move out?


when he hides

sucking even the walls dry

of memories

of feelings

preparing you better for the leaving


he has decided it’s better this way

if you don’t even want to come to move out

surely the move would never be blocked by doubt


he hides

in the mattress

in the wave chair

in the dresser

in the headboard

and in all miscellaneous personal treasure


who would dare step foot in his room?

who would dare come and face him?

when you’ve run from him for so long

this is no longer a place for you –so go along


he hides

in the cabinet

in the spot where the bed used to be

where the Christmas tree used to be seen


and he controls

in fear

in dread

in that lump in your throat

in that turn you make to walk away


when you finally have no other choice

you have to stand and fight

and you stare right into the face

right into the face of that Monster –that you created.


he’s inside the closet you’re cleaning out

he’s inside the drawer you’re cleaning out

he’s inside the bathroom that’s a dingy white

he’s inside the shower you slept in that one night


he’s inside the window you now have to close

he’s inside the stuffed animals and stoves

he’s inside the litter box that was feared to be cleaned

and inside those fire alarms, your old fiend



because he lived there too

through good and bad

he was the memories made


so you wait and wait

because if you’re at a distance you know someone else has to do it for you

you know you have to move out

but if you’re not there to help then someone else has to come

and they have to clean it out instead of you

so you can avoid him a little longer and make do


but now –he’ll live there forever

the Monster has won


he’s packed up

what wasn’t dealt with was thrown in a box

“i’ll face him later”

with pitiful fists and rocks


and now he’ll be moved into the new house

this old abandoned one will be sold

and he’ll be a ghost to anyone new

but when you…

oh if you step through

that door he’ll remind you



“I live in the closet”

“I live in the place your bed once stood”

“I live in the place where I ended your childhood”

Aim For The Floor

Aim For The Floor

Step 1: Shotgun loaded.

Step 2: Now aim for the floor.

Step 3: Readjust. You want the barrel right there on your foot.

Step 4: Close your eyes. Squeeze ‘em tight. Pull the trigger and hit send.


And he sends back “thank you” or “I feel a lot better”.

He has no idea what you just did to yourself.

He has no idea both feet went missing six times in this last month.


Step 1:

Step 2:

Step 3:

And repeat.


Throw the clock out the window.



Cherish the time you have with her.



Talk to her about it.

This is obviously important to you.




Please, tell me about it.

I’m here for you.

I’m your friend.

…I have to be here.


I have to tell you:

You’ll be fine.

You guys will figure it out.


I have to tell you—

Well, actually no.

I have to keep my mouth shut.

Because I don’t love you.

Or at least I’m not supposed to.


I don’t care that you’re going to spend the night with your girlfriend.

I can’t.

I don’t care that you told her you love her.

Because if I let those facts come through,

I will go absolutely crazy over you.


While I had to stand,

And watch you,

Fall deeper and deeper in love with her.

Oblivious that the one behind you was just as deep too.

Only not with her,

But with you.


So I have to be here:

When you were worried about her.

When you first spent the night.


I couldn’t say:

All these heinous things.

At least not to you.

That I thought high school was over!

That I thought I’d finally gotten away from her.

When my best friend, you fell in love with her.


I was going to be a better person this time.

I couldn’t go charging in and break you guys up.

I couldn’t go charging in at all –so we go to:


Step 1: Shotgun loaded.

You guys will be fine.

Step 2: Now aim for the floor.

Yes I’m sure.

Step 3: Readjust. Last time you almost missed.

Darling I’m here as a friend.

Step 4: Eyes closed, pull the trigger and hit send.



I’m here as a friend.

And you have no idea that it’s killing me.

In bed, at the desk, or over coffee.

You’re standing now in the kitchen in front of me.


Help me.

Under these jeans,

You don’t see:

That I’m a self-made amputee.



I don’t recognize my parent’s divorce.

Its impact is something I refuse to acknowledge as a force.

Because I am a Robot.

And I do not wish to feel things.

For what if it’s a bad feeling that clings?

I am a Robot.

And I stay in shut down mode,

In case something terrible comes barreling down the road.


Instead I construct firewalls made of mortar and brick.

To keep you all out.

Constructing massive fortresses that seem pragmatic.


I am a Robot.

Strong where I stood,

Fighting off your offenses and falsehood.

I am a Robot.

And I feel this that stings,

But God no, not those other things.

I am a robot.

With a tin exterior that doesn’t tarnish,

And massive fortresses you won’t demolish.


With medieval catapults at the ready,

Do your best to hack,

These firewalls hold steady when under attack.

Do your best, I dare you.

Bullets glance off me in this nasty debut.


I am a Robot.

With firewalls built callously.

So when under siege,

Under causalities and catastrophe,

It’s better built with barriers than to suffer defeat.

the rock.

the rock sinks.


it doesn’t write

it doesn’t read

it doesn’t sleep


the rock needs nothing

but just to sink.


sink and stay

to the swamp it calls home

for yet another day.


it sinks slowly and heavily


to sink and stay

to rest on the ground

as a murky mound


the fish will swim over the top of it

without making a sound

embarrassedly burring itself further in the ground


it doesn’t expect to be missed.

it sank of it’s own accord.


to sink and stay

“these depths are depressing”

thinks the rock in it’s relaxed uneasy resting.