Written

For the masses

[thedefectivegood-blog]

The Dark

One day when the sun is dust Finally when the stars are resting Inevitably when the people are silent Time itself will have its place to perish too When everything we will ever know  and everything we will never know ceases to exist Some part of me  Somewhere will hold onto the light, sound, essence, that was you. Everything that is everything to me will end. But,  maybe find solace in that my small life my little light will stay shining for you Come find me.

[thedefectivegood-blog]

Hope.

Be alongside Everest, highest known to man.

Fears lay below, inside chasms never by light.

You. Might be between hope and fear,

find yourself climbing mountains

or digging into the dirt.

Fear.

[thedefectivegood-blog]

Fit

Guess I read bukowski to fit in with the popular ones. Though, in the class of poets we're made of the outcast and shunned. Even still we repeat cycles of creating cliques, despite the fact we left the world behind to find this place we'd fit in. Started degrading eachother for promise of praise, the elitist legion of writers ready to bring our youngest to shame. Despite all this we write still with hearts held inside pens, with the rainbow of words at our fingertips we wrote in the darkest hues instead.  We promised the world we wouldn't rest until our beauty had shone through, instead made life ugly so our faces could hide too.

[pulsing-ink]

It’s been 263 days since I heard your voice I still miss you It was my fault, my choice But don’t you dare think for a second that I rejoice In the fact that your December was painted with tears 2 years We were together I thought our love was clear Because in my eyes you appeared To be the one I would adhere to For the rest  of my life The person who took away my fears Our love would persevere through it all Like a crystal chandelier Whenever you were near you would light up my world Until the bulb burnt out A little seed of doubt Began to sprout And all that remained was dirt Too dry to grow anything new No more wet morning dew only clouds of grey hues That reminded me of you And how you threw everything we had into a slew baby those shoes had too many holes they couldn’t carry us through that winter storm you know that’s true if only we knew that it would come to this that our love will fall into an abyss you gifted me rose coloured glasses that poisoned my mind with bliss because you were my first love my first kiss do you miss me? or do you dismiss the thought of my lips tracing your body your skin how have you been? has your heart become thin like mine or have you once again Given into sin because you can’t win in love. Can you? theres no winning in love.

I can’t believe it’s almost been a year

[thedefectivegood-blog]

Change

Put my hand to rail, I need to steady my fall. I just crashed into autumn. Before this we and trees stood tall. Leaves disappear, cool air kills, the branches are barren.  Before it was lush, last time I recalled. Summer love becomes poetry in motion, It all washes away like your  suntan lotion. We hide our bruised hearts under coat collars. Raking our leaves, preparing for the snow falling.

[thedefectivegood-blog]

Weather or not

Coats hide the cold, closet the warmth stave off the rain these cloudy days have been getting old. Whispers underneath collars, shelling out dollars for warm drinks. Or hard drinks to keep the blood flowing. Mistake the sheer sight of black mornings  for eventual disasters  in a word it'll stay storming. Dreaming some sunny day away from the teeth chattering breeze, please. When the humid air rolls in with the bright beams we wish again for  bitter cold mornings.

[thedefectivegood-blog]

Whiskey

The last day I'll drink away my pain, I will have been old.  Maybe too old to come to realizations. But old enough to know better. Grey enough to have seen the world through worsening eyes, clouded lenses, smoke filled rooms. Then I'll see my mistakes and find myself well acquainted with my demons.  Enough to speak to them. When the day comes for me to face my mistakes. I'll have one last drink. The final breath will smell of whiskey

[thedefectivegood-blog]

How cliche can I be,

I call myself a writer

though no one knows it.

Let me explain in great detail

the pain im in.

Expecting it to come off as unique.

Everyone's in pain,

the leaves are dying.

Depressed kids flock to Tumblr posts.

Wallow in this pain my pain your pain his pain

Her pain

It's all the Same.

Unique little snowflakes, we melt when light

shines on our flaw filled writings.

Nobody special but me, that's why I keep

writing sad stories on the internet

expecting it to fucking mean something.

How disgusting.

Indulge my selfish fantasies,

expect to be great but with everyone

so sad

so sad.

These poems seriously don't mean anything

Dot dot dot

[thedefectivegood-blog]

Skin

See that look on my face, or just look at my face. Let it tell everything you need to know. Red splotches, sunken eyes, a smile made to sell you lies. Big nose, ears out to here          sadly I've been badly burnt, but no scars show though  they're my insides. They are charred and torn up. My grease filled skin is inexcusable  Inescapable Unpredictable  Unchangeable  More akin to an animal belonging inside his stable. Can't help but want to peel it all back, show the world somehow Im even more disgusting underneath all of that. 

[thedefectivegood-blog]

Filth

Sex, drugs, and filth stain my mind  when I wake up. I carry the sin on my forearm and there it sits. I gave up being the holy son for spending days away from home soiling soul pursuing an end to things. Maybe that's why I decided to tote tattoos on my skin. Not completely aware of the permanence, too aware of this fleeting youth and loss of chance.  Or was it innocence. In a sense i destroy my body, I have only one. I refuse to keep it clean and hidden, I will show the world how ugly I can be. Even being the sore thumb can be fun.

[thedefectivegood-blog]

Centipede

I'm a laborer. With ink stains substituted for skin, letters to myself to not forget yesterday's sin Men of habit running themselves into ruts, I resemble them but have enough passion to go with my gut and step out. They want to win the race but I'm tired of this one track life. It's repeated, like my father and his father before They said life's a bore but boy you better get to your chores. It's a war out here, we bring home the kill then raise the babies to fear the idea of free will. Will you just hush, I'm sleepy and these messages I'm receiving are too lush with formalities. I'd rather write until my hands bleed and worry bout payment once the tax collectors begin clawing at my knees. I disintegrate future worries with an eye laser beam, Go back to watching cartoons and pretending this centipede life will never catch up with me.

[thedefectivegood-blog]

U

Seasons change, but the rain. Has fallen all year long. Right when I thought it could stop, there you were.  Some sunshine in this day time, cloudy like the sky is so shy. I almost died that day as you stole the air right out of my lungs. It would've been the best way to go. Looking up from the ground,  still safe and sound. Seeing your perfect face, not knowing where it would go from there. But then it went, our two years. The time our hearts took to grow in then apart. I wonder if you ever thought you'd kiss me like that. I miss those lips, and the feel of your hips on mine. But I wasn't enough, so you fell back in love with your other guy. And I guess that's fine.

[thedefectivegood-blog]

fires

I'm only saying this to get it out Like a sickness in me But I can't live without it Like burning oil on the surface of earth  It serves purpose And god I'd kill to be healthy  But the cycles never ending  One day it might kill me  Till then the clock keeps turning  As I grow older this fire inside Will give the world a light But my soul is the fuel And it stays burning

[thedefectivegood-blog]

Untitled

Sometimes the only steps you can take move you forward. And keep you looking ahead for new experiences, moving towards your passions and leaving behind distractions. Don't prepare for the worst, it makes life harder to bare if that makes any sense. It's none of my business what you do, but I can't say I care about you without reaching out.  Promising you that past this, there won't be so much hurt. Keep moving and don't let anything slow you down, one day you'll turn around and realize the worse is behind you now.

[thedefectivegood-blog]

Are These Too Long

Family commenting on my grim face lately, but I've just been reaping what I sew so im not acting animated like cartoons. No more Billy and Mandy. They're just used to my smile so there's no blame, just a shame I'm no longer in stiches. Bitches have me butt hurt, feels like  im the one getting fucked as of lately. And I'm shaky, Tremorous tremblings if I had a spine itd be tingling.  But as they say im just an earth worm, scummy sitting on dirt turf. Tries explaining what his word's worth. Boxing on the daily so they expecting me to fight. Life gave me lemons though so I'm trying to stay out the limelight.

[thedefectivegood-blog]

Friends

When the ambulance came it didn't surprise me. Saw pictures of them partying hastily just  last week. Thoughts of destruction amid celebration birthdays kill fear for tolerance  liqour barges into the building abolishing  abstinence. Sex, drugs, vices, fun, mixed like cocktails. Nobody thinking they'd see their friends done in. Saddest thing when I asked those friends what had happened, through red eyes from crying and other things they couldn't even remember their actions from the night. I decided to toast to their early demise, Not much for praying so to their memory I left my glass raised high. Remember them

[thedefectivegood-blog]

Six

Opening pocketbooks for those less fortunate Not for moralitys sake I'm just sick When I see others just as fed up with life it does the trick If lending a hand makes me a saint, the glove doesn't fit I'm not a man looking for praise but it's deranged when people see their peers under bridges and keep looking away Dodging eyes hide fears for steers, they are not cattle just human beings Chop it up or chock it up, mistakes made in life Make up for it  Hand out 5 dollars so it's right I'm no hero for pitching out pennies to guys homeless using the money for drugs instead of bedsheets I'm just looking for ways to bring smiles to sunken faces and remind myself daily I could be in their place