Tag Archives: Regret

Weightless words fog the window
Clouding thoughts I once found mellow
Swirling tricks mistaken for treats,
Feeding me poison in place of sweets.
Spouting phrases out of context,
A hail of daggers finding the X.
Taking breaths to slow my heart,
Subdue the pain as it rips me apart.
Do you hear yourself when you speak,
Or is it I that has only grown weak?
I wish I could turn my head away,
As you find something else to say.
But there is no glory in surrender,
Crack the bottle for another bender,
Numb the soul, stoke the fires,
Spread the memories on funeral pyres,
Watch the ashes catch the breeze,
As my dreams get lost in the trees.
Entangled in your lover’s folly,
Preparing yourself for another volley.

When you see yourself through the distorted lens of depression, you have trouble recognizing your own reflection. You can’t see the seam separating your normal self from the irrational being that calls you its host, and shows none of the courtesies a guest should uphold. The lines blur, and all that’s left is a pain that washes over your heart like a malevolent wave lapping upon your withered soul; a pulsating ache that ebbs with the ever-changing tide of humanity.

His self-esteem lies in a fetid puddle

Staring up at him in longing

Wishing to restore its place.

He tries to cup it within his palms,

To drink and in turn reinvigorate.

Alas, like all things in his life

He grimly watched his salvation

Trickle slowly through stiff fingers

As though his skin turned to stone

And soon, his heart followed.

For swiftly the tears of regret

Flow like Neptune’s sea

From burning eyes,

Eroding his grip and

Withering away his heart,

All hope is swept away

With the ebbing tide.

It would be unwise to decipher the ache in his heart.

So much so that he truly believes

If he were to dig down into the depths

To recall the origin of that wretched,

unwelcome, drowning sensation,

He would no longer have the strength

To climb out of that pitch black hole.

That he may be forced along Dante’s path

With no guide nor God to lead him safely.

For within those depths he will plunge, and

The path of the absurd waits hungrily at the crossroad.

Is there no end to the guilt that I feel?

Do I blame myself for another’s yield?

If light means life then I must concede;

the darkness has found me, as daylight recedes.

It smears carbon black over eyes pearl white.

Concealing the pleasure, enforcing the blight.

The agony is a bore, life becomes a chore;

when all that I can fathom

is the day it ran me ragged.

This is a different take of my old poem “Wishing Well”. As with all of my poetry, they will never be complete until I am six feet under.

Nothing’s changed.

I’m still alien to the term “Love”

It travels on another timeline,

parallel to my own.

Never to intersect or intertwine.

Till death, my bitter heart will remain alone.

Eternity awaits this lonely lover.

Filled to the brim with guilt,

void of compassion

The will to love,

is no longer an oft-thought emotion

I’m stumbling through an open door

A mason’s fairy-tale creation

I’m fumbling through an open door;

My past fortune’s glimmer, gracing

eyes with a life, this soul just wasn’t made for

Yeah I’m tumbling through an open door

End over end

She threw my ass out of an open door

Her laugh accompanies splintering floorboards…

Nope, not a damn, thing’s, changed

An updated version of a poem I blogged about about a week ago. Hopefully it surpasses the original in my viewer’s eyes. 

It was the happiest and saddest moment of his Summer.

All in one sitting with you, happiest and saddest.

The excitement of your smile brought on one of his own.

A truly exquisite feeling, no other has come close.

Still in his broken mind, a time bomb awaits its trigger.

When the feeling of serenity falls victim to displeasure.

In all his doubt, he still believes you will be back some day.

Yet your departure has always caused his soul to constrain.

Wrapping tightly around the detonator, break your gaze.

Your beautiful eyes need not see him blown away.

And plug your ears, no need for you to hear

the explosive rambling of a man lost with love.

unsuccessful at his every quest for one to take hold.

He only wishes to share what he holds so close.

A burning passion, love that is true. 

A man can only hope.

I asked for her hand in this dance, she refused. Now, what am I to do but mourn the loss of her warmth in my life? The bliss she brought with a kiss and the scent of her hair waving in the air; wafting aromas only heaven could posses.


It’s like a car crash killing your best friend in an instant. Never knowing what went wrong. Asking yourself ” could i have taken a different road? Is this how it’s meant to end?”. Nothing but the wreckage is left. Her last goodbye still ringing in my head.


She took her exit stage left with a quickness. They tell me “move on” but I’m glued to my seat, floored for an encore. Because forgetting the unrelenting cry is more than just a task; it prefers ‘shine in a flask until i’m face down, just an undercover lover in the background.


Hiding my shame in this never ending game of blame, it torments me. Mind like a tennis court, back and fourth between the truth and pale blue eyes. An opponent who no longer exists, still longs for my demise.