a lighthouse down this block

there’s a lighthouse down this block
where I used to ride my bike
babe it’s been too long
since I’ve seen that light shine

I used to grab my things
a coat, a book, a pen
that’s all I learned to need
with simply that I was content

I spent hours of my days here
too many, or not enough
the memories are saved here
from myself and all my thoughts

one day I stopped going alone
that was when I met you
I’ve never seen the light so bright
until you first stepped in the room

I brought you to my favorite place
I trusted you with my heart
the only person who meant enough
even now that we’re apart

the days passed by, the breeze got cold
I never returned
I still pass by it once in a while
to make sure the light still burns

since you stopped showing up
I noticed some changes
the lights in the lighthouse used to be so bright
suddenly faded

(from August 29, 2015 3:54 AM)


guide me there

brain dead
body numb
sleep on sleep
no work done

morning comes
wake up wake up
Truman show
home, but lost

less sleep
more time
brain works
I’m fine

lead the way
out of here
creative mind
guide me there

another poem about sleep

sleep is strange
it’s bitter sweet
time feels like it stops
while under the sheets
so much time passes
with eyelids closed
I wonder where I would be
if I wasn’t out cold

if I didn’t need sleep

(from 3/3/15 12:00 am)

sleepless again

I try to keep myself busy
so I won’t overthink
but once I lay down at midnight to sleep
the thoughts suffocate my mind

I am always tired
I wish there was a way to keep my thoughts calm
I push through the sleepy feeling
and force my body to work
but once again
when I lay down the next night
my mind is the one that works

day and dream

during the day i avoid
i avoid things i know will intrude on my peace
i filter bad words
bad sentences
bad stories
bad things
so my mind is at peace

but at night
everything comes back in my dreams
i wake up scared and distressed
i create bad things
since i don’t confront them awake
i confront them in my sleep

why do i

why do i listen to people
when only i know who i am and what’s best for me

why do i trust people
when i don’t know them, and they don’t know me

why do i hurt people
when all i want is to communicate

why do i not care
when certain people care about me

why do i judge
when i don’t like when people judge me

why do i accept people
when i know they are detrimental to me

why do i hurt myself
when i can avoid the people who cause the hurt in me

booty calls

i love when you text me
late at night
cause i know what i’ll be

i love that there’s no connection
between you and me

we both know what this is
i feel like a rebel
in the midst of obedient earth angels

an anarchist
in a society chained to the rules
attached to what they’re told

like a newborn and it’s first bottle

inability to deviate
inability to question

so call me at 3 in the morning
when I’m in bed mourning
over the lost soul of mine
through the physical numbness I’m used for
with you in between or sheets
or above
either way

call me at 4 in the morning
after the girl you truly want
refuses to be with you
she walked away from you
at the bar, when you both drank too much

so you call me
to slightly fulfill that part of you
we both wake up the next day
feeling the same way
we did before
neither moving forward nor backward
neither helping, nor damaging

call me at 5 in the morning

i’m here.