You Made Candy Less Sweet

During a time of sugar-coated promises

and sweet-toothed grins,

you were a bag of sour gumdrops.

You produced puckered lips

and friendly laughs

until the burns kicked in at your bite.

You gave away pieces of you

until all that remained

were bloody tongues and chaffed lips.

During this time of sugar-coated promises

and sweet-toothed grins,

you were a bag of sour gumdrops,

good only in moderation.


Apologetically Deceiving

The words shake on their way out of my mouth,

a trembling on the tongue as they fall into the

endless puddles of apologies. How many times

can my throaty cries tell you I’m sorry before

you decide you can learn to forgive. I live

through my words while you stand beside

yours. You do not deserve the sympathy, yet

I spit the words onto a silver platter to feed

the appetite you work up after a hard day of

manipulating me.


I lost myself when I fell down the rabbit hole,

obsessed with time, the future held in a

stopwatch pocketed by no ones hands but

my own. I look through the eyes of the hatter,

no need to get high with the caterpillar to see

illusions within the mirror. I’ve always dictated

this heart, but the kingdom is failing, derailing

heads of hope is the only way to cope with this



My therapist was created by murdered trees,

rolled and cut into sheets, stamped with

inked lines that guide our conversations.


He wields a metal spine, curled tight,

wrapped around my thoughts in attempt

to hold our sessions in one place.


I create my therapy sessions with plastic

tubes around thin sticks of led, topped

with a rubber mistakes eraser.


We make appointments daily, accumulating

emotions, finding their meanings, and the

outcome always seems to be poetry.

Your Song

The problem with having the same

tastes in music, is all my music

reminds me of yours.


Your voice the drums,

a steady beat that kept me on pace.


Your smile the chorus,

the melody that got stuck in my head.


Your laugh the lyrics

that drew me in with every line.


The last chord was the look in

your eyes when you said goodbye.

The last spark, leaving the ghost

of the sound in the silence, a

slow transition into the faint

ringing being alone can cause.

The sound of your ears longing

for something to fill the quiet.

Return Label

I was thrown into a world that

keeps trying to throw me back.

Hated for my mistakes, it’s left

me kicking, fighting for a place

I was brought unwillingly. I’m

trying to return myself to a

sender that has moved since

giving me up to this existence.

Forgotten Treasure ft. Mark Swift

This poem was written collaboratively by me and a friend of mine. First line was his, next was mine, and so on. You can check out his blog at;


Among seas and stars, and across the earth,

Strung by ropes, an essence of worth,

Lies a treasure, beyond any other,

Measured in the love of a mother,

That those around may feel its pulse,

Through thorned crowns, it arose.