Me

My name means juvinile hall poet and my nickname sleepy or sleeps. I write a lot of poetry about myself and my struggles. I have dated all my poetry they dont have any names to them but they are all original. I write everyday my friends said I am good but I think I am decent. So I made this tumblr so I can get a different opinion on where I am at in poetry. I just hope people can relate to it and enjoy it. read it and let me know what you opinion is about them..

[x-xunknownx-x]

Loving you tested the best and the worst part of me. But it showed me how divided I’ve been. The thank you and the fuck you conversations we have, that roll around in my mind have settled. Right in the middle right in indifference. Where I dont want to be humble or selfish. Where I don’t want to wish you the worst or the best. I just accept where our story ended. Close that book put it back on the shelf where it’s always belonged.

[x-xunknownx-x]

“Your love isn’t something I’d forget because your love isn’t something I regret.” -unknown

[x-xunknownx-x]

“Eyes dark as night with a smile that shines brighter than sunlight.”

[x-xunknownx-x]

Would you share this moment with me?

Would you share this moment with me?

Don't mean be rude it's just seeing you makes me wanna live for 2. Like if I had choose between all the riches in the world I'd choose you. A priceless gem let me ask you again.

Would you share this moment with me?

I can see in your eyes your distant. Don't wanna waste time talking so let me listen. Tell me your dreams your passion everything you want and what's missing.

Would you share this moment with me?

Take a seat let me offer the one next to mine. While I'm at it let me also offer my time. See we can sit here looking for beauty in silence. Or we can talk about creating peace instead of violence.

Would you share this moment with me?

We could have a conversation let me make you laugh. Or we can play 21 questions if your curious just ask. I'll tell you the good and the bad. Everything I wanted to everything I had.

Would you share this moment with me?

We can know each other perfectly or be perfect strangers. Trusting is hard believe me I know the dangers. This moment could decide whether we move on side by side or separately. You could forget me in an instant or occasionally mention me. In conversations of what could've been but wasn't. Love is what moves people its doubt that doesn't.

Would you share this moment with me?

Even with the fear of taking the leap or getting yourself in too deep. worrying if this is meant to be to troubling yourself of what you can't see....breathe take my hand and share this moment with me.

[x-xunknownx-x]

Starting over with someone new.

Are you angry? No. Sincerity eminent on her lips. But how do you tell someone how close your coming to slitting your wrists? Horizontal for show vertical for results, laughing instead of crying, suicidal thoughts. Trying to push her away because you know regret lingers like a shadow in the day. And how it chokes you, moments where it almost broke you. Fragile yet unbreakable drowning with an insatiable. Desire to feel loved feel detrimental to someone’s life. Realities of being alone fleeting hopes of a family a wife. She looks at you, more love than hurt in her eyes. But you can’t help but to feel like she’s telling you lies.

[x-xunknownx-x]

Your name

I can't even say your name out loud anymore. It sounds weird almost foreign like I'm speaking another language. I feel joy because I've never had anyone be able to speak to my heart the way you did. Sweet and gently you gave me the will to breathe again. Your name brings pain from all the things I didn't say. All the things we didn't do like go to prom or walk through Newport on the levy. Every step is feeling heavy. Your name gives me anxiety feeling like I'm choking suffocating because of your absence. Anxious that I'll never feel again. In your name I also find hope. Not just hoping you'll comeback but hoping you're happy. You see I've learned in my solitude the depth of your meaning to me. A meaning some can't even fathom. your name alone gives me ups and downs gives me chills and butterflies. Those brown eyes never showed no lies. I've written that in many poems even before I met you. Now realizing they were always about you. Nothing can replace you. Or come close to. At night all I want to do is hold you. Tell you how much I care. How sorry I am for not being fair. To your needs but all I feel now is the beads. Of sweat that cover my body from memories that had cut too deep to heal. I find myself with my arms stretched out trying to feel. For you, grasping nothing but air. Your essence brings me to a place where. Time stands still a perfect day somewhere far. The more I imagine it the closer you are. The warmer I feel a smile grows on my face at the thought of all the kisses I'd steal. The touch of your hand on mine. Your laugh that brings me out of the dark every single time. Words just can't express what you mean to me but I try every time. In every poem every verse in every line. Recently been back and forth from east to west. Still see your beauty in every single sunset. I've noticed how much I've learned. Trying to find you in someone else always seems to get me burned. Because in the end there is you and only you. I just wish you knew how much I still love you.

[x-xunknownx-x]

Im 20 years old and I listen to Brenton woods and al green.

[x-xunknownx-x]

Hope

The one I love, loves somebody else. The one I have doesn't want anyone else but...me. Seems like "myself" has become "us", "I" became "we" and lately. She has had me feeling what sight cannot see. She has me barely able to breathe. I want to believe that "we" can really be. Then again a minute in our bliss can last hours. Wanting to explore the thought of mine and yours becoming "ours". That's my mind set as we hit breast strokes and death strokes in the shower. Bringing our physical affection higher. The earth trembling as our bodies, our minds come together to create strength and power. We become so strong we make the darkness cower. In our light where seeds of opportunity bloom into flowers of unity. Able to see the raw connection. That's been keeping us from going in the wrong direction. These symptoms have no exception to our relentless affection. My heart bleeds out streams because you keep it from flooding out an ocean. My cold demeanor comes from the flow of blood that caused erosion. It was slowly washing away my mind. And if it really is "us" then why do I want to call you mine? Our relationship is trust other might say a circumstantial lust. That doesn't mean I don't appreciate you its just, authenticity from the both of us is a must. And there goes that word again. It's been marinating in my thoughts since the time when. I really took a look into her eyes. Trying to figure out this puzzle the mystery in her disguise. Recounting the words said to me from the wise. Which was that " woman only have time to cry from men who are too busy trying to lie instead of trying to try". So it seems like honesty is the best way to relay these thoughts. But communication is difficult as we ignite our spots. That fuel an ember to a spark. A spark into a flame that burns brightly through the night of lip biting and saying my name. Our fire finally climaxes and the sun rises. We find the biggest surprises is the shedding of our vices. At least for the night we become pure once more. Leaving our insecurities at the door. As I look into her eyes and ask "what are you holding back for? We don't need to hide our scars like before". For a second she looked puzzled her face became blank expressionless. But nevertheless her eyes became fierce then her touch began to pierce. The very fibers of my making. Our very souls giving and taking. Until her legs began shaking. Now as I embrace her white naked body quivering in the moonlight. Is when "us" finally starts to feel right. Many poets might end this with a happily ever after. But then again that's not what I'm after. I don't want whatever this is to rely on a single moment. I want a collage of ups and downs then I want to own it. I want our relationship to derail begin to fall apart, like when all hope fails. Just so we can realize what we mean to each other. Become vulnerable again to step out of our cover. Step out our boxes our comfort zones. So "us" as strangers can hold each other's hearts and find home. Realize the things that doubt cannot steal and time cannot heal. Shouldn't define if we truly feel, or deny us the fact that these moments are real.

[x-xunknownx-x]

Stuck in a world where loyalty is flawed. Trust is a myth and love is outlawed. So I'm an outlaw 2 revolvers loaded with venom. Dickies instead of denim. Invoking my enemies wrath. I've chosen my path of brimstone and ash. As the demons in my mind clash. I often seem to ask why? My motive becomes to do or die. It's like life backs in me into a corner every time. Now I have to show the face of my many violent crimes. To give myself a chance to breathe. Agony in these words give me the strength to leave. To have an out of body experience through the word of mouth. Cold in my prison but I find warmth in the south. Blowing minds figuratively and literally. Hold the pain of treachery in my heart bitterly. But I seem to brave the mistakes of a fallen warrior until nightfall. Until the monsters in my closet come to call. In my sleep I fall in my dreams I scream death to them all. And fight my way through the darkness with chrome and steel. Knuckles peeled with a mind the won't heal and a heart that won't feel. I beckon to death and whisper mercy. Since the days of the cradle it's cursed me. With passionate words and a deaf audience, I preach to the dead. I've cried and I've bled. On the inside more then on the out. Have gotten low enough to think of different routes. the coward in me wouldn't accept it. the soldier deemed that I could never forget it. Now I sit here with a smile yet impaling myself on the inside. Waiting for life to turn the tide. I wrote that last line on the inside. When the only strength I found was in my pride. I kind of miss those days. Including the nights of bright lights and the vast bay. Seems like times were simple when my first love had a nickname and dimples. I found many things on the road I've paved. Now my poetry has been engraved. In the essence of my soul. Testing my mind taking its toll. Through a life of misfortune gang related and faded. All my life I've been hated. I hold so much pressure I feel like I might exploded. Empty the six shot and reload. Replace the venom with fire. Shoot and kill those I desire. Cut them down to the fibers challenge me call me a liar. So I can do it just to spite you. Look in the mirror and say I don't even like you. Wish I could reach you through the glass just to fight you. Jab, hook and right you. Hold you down so I can tell you just how badly you fucked my life up. Rip my chest open and show you the depth of my cuts. That I gave myself the first time I realized I was alone and my father wasn't coming home. The time I realized the outline of my zone the respect behind fear the strength of my chrome. Or when I figured out I could never bring myself to make sense of algebra equations. Or the sense in class participation. Or how about the day I realized I didn't lose everything if I didn't have anything. Maybe when I graduated my program but I had no where to go. Those cuts never healed but there are many more cuts to show. That are deeper and darker like the nights when I'd listen to creeper. Nights when you made me feel lonely. I'd Reach into that reflection and suffocate you slowly. But these words are as close as I can get. Can only hope to change my world of night with a sun that never sets. With a peace I've never met and a hope that's never lets, me forget the beauty in people. Believing seems feeble. So I'll stick to my cage, my rage, from a forgotten age and keep my pen to the page.

[x-xunknownx-x]

Just tired

I'm so tired....so tired of getting called cold, aggressive, not good enough. So tired of being ignored yet harassed at the same time. Seems like when it's my turn to try to explain who I am the door slams in my face. I get called a thug...gangsta....cholo. But reality I'm just me trying to survive. Trying to stay alive in a world where I'm tested daily. Am I man enough to endure the heartbreak of someone I truly loved...of course because I'm a man so I push those "feelings" aside because as a man I don't need them. Am I man enough to fight any and all other men who try to assert themselves? Of course because as a man I have to use violence to get my "respect". Am I man enough to take that beating? Of course because men welcome pain. Am I man enough to never be afraid? Of course because any man willing to call himself one is never afraid.....but what if I am? What if I am afraid? What if being alone terrifies me? What if I'm afraid of pain? Of mistakes? What if I really did love her and those "feelings" don't want to go away? If I'm not a man then what am I? Maybe just human..

[callmenobuddy-deactivated202208]

[callmenobuddy-deactivated202208]

[x-xunknownx-x]

I bite the lies until it bleeds the truth...only the blood tastes bitter.

Infamis

[x-xunknownx-x]

Saying goodbye

Listening to her muffled sobs, Her head on my chest as she fights back the tears. Can only manage a faint whisper, "I love you and I need you here." I died inside every time she said it, Even get cold when I remember. Days spent holding hands in the hallway, To our latest nights in December. The way she looked at me... Words could never hold such power. To try to explain the strength of her warmth, That melted every piece every fiber. Of my soul of my making, Nothing in this life could replace you. I pause gently raise her head, Wipe away her tears and whisper "I love you too."

[callmenobuddy-deactivated202208]

play dead

On those days when your smile looks like a hammered bluebird,

play dead.

When life becomes nothing more than a game of Hungry Hungry Hippos where there are no white plastic balls bouncing around for the hippos to eat,

play dead.

When someone tells you to follow them on Twitter or Instagram or Twittergram or Instatwat or whatever the next big, insanely narcissistic form of social media is,

play dead.

When you feel The Grim Reaper picking through the garbage can of your heart, looking for bottles and cans,

play dead.

After someone utters the oil spill “I love you,”

play dead.

When you’ve forgotten who you are, or what you’re doing, or how to love yourself,

go for a walk.

Continue on the walk until you find a dead animal flattened in the middle of the street.

Observe it. Study it while ignoring the static of flies.

Notice how the dead animal doesn’t look at anything/anyone.

This is important.

Curl up in a ball on the side of the road and practice this. Perfect this.

Now notice how beautiful the dead animal is. And the dead animal is beautiful because it is alone, because it is not letting anything/anyone inside it.

Aloneness is the key.

Aloneness is the secret sauce on the cheeseburger of your life.

Cover yourself in secret sauce and play dead.

And just when you think you can’t play dead anymore, play dead'er, because the further you remove yourself from people the easier it is to learn to love yourself again.

Isolate yourself from the dead boys and dead girls, from these creatures compiled of nothing more than pop culture crumbs, masquerading as the alive.

Because they aren’t alive.

No matter how big they smile, no matter how loud they laugh, no matter how many rooftop parties they go to, they are all the same, boring mannequin-person.

They have all spent years/lifetimes murdering their eccentricities.

Run away from them.

Drink from the Kool-Aid flavored water fountain of yourself and taste how delicious you are alone without any added flavoring of people.

Remember who you are.

Remember what makes you unique.

If you ever want to feel alive, and if you ever want to make it out of this alive, and you can, then play dead.

Play dead, play dead,

play dead.

[callmenobuddy-deactivated202208]

How do you get over someone you love but doesn't love you anymore?

Don’t try to get over them really. Or get rid of them, I guess. Because you can’t get rid of them. You just learn to live with them inside you. Like maybe you rent them a small apartment in a suburb of your heart or something. Nothing fancy, but, you know, nice enough. No rats in the walls. No one was ever murdered there. Ya know… A decent place. And then you just keep them there inside the place you’ve chosen for them, visiting them every so often, keeping them close but still far enough away where they can’t control you anymore. That’s all you can do.

Hang in there…

[callmenobuddy-deactivated202208]

play dead

On those days when your smile looks like a hammered bluebird,

play dead.

When life becomes nothing more than a game of Hungry Hungry Hippos where there are no white plastic balls bouncing around for the hippos to eat,

play dead.

When someone tells you to follow them on Twitter or Instagram or Twittergram or Instatwat or whatever the next big, insanely narcissistic form of social media is,

play dead.

When you feel The Grim Reaper picking through the garbage can of your heart, looking for bottles and cans,

play dead.

After someone utters the oil spill “I love you,”

play dead.

When you’ve forgotten who you are, or what you’re doing, or how to love yourself,

go for a walk.

Continue on the walk until you find a dead animal flattened in the middle of the street.

Observe it. Study it while ignoring the static of flies.

Notice how the dead animal doesn’t look at anything/anyone.

This is important.

Curl up in a ball on the side of the road and practice this. Perfect this.

Now notice how beautiful the dead animal is. And the dead animal is beautiful because it is alone, because it is not letting anything/anyone inside it.

Aloneness is the key.

Aloneness is the secret sauce on the cheeseburger of your life.

Cover yourself in secret sauce and play dead.

And just when you think you can’t play dead anymore, play dead'er, because the further you remove yourself from people the easier it is to learn to love yourself again.

Isolate yourself from the dead boys and dead girls, from these creatures compiled of nothing more than pop culture crumbs, masquerading as the alive.

Because they aren’t alive.

No matter how big they smile, no matter how loud they laugh, no matter how many rooftop parties they go to, they are all the same, boring mannequin-person.

They have all spent years/lifetimes murdering their eccentricities.

Run away from them.

Drink from the Kool-Aid flavored water fountain of yourself and taste how delicious you are alone without any added flavoring of people.

Remember who you are.

Remember what makes you unique.

If you ever want to feel alive, and if you ever want to make it out of this alive, and you can, then play dead.

Play dead, play dead,

play dead.