Another sleepless night
I count numbers and sheep in my head
but everything brings me back to you
and the smell of your perfume
...
Like a one winged
butterfly
I turn circles in the sky
Lost and spiraling down
...
Ive been looking
but cannot find
a soul so incomplete
it could be completed with mine
...
I see her face
in the shattered mirror
of my world
and in this moment
...
You have never
Loved
until you hold your child
brand new and innocent
...
be careful
with my love
not because I am fragile
as in the sense of a roses stem
...
fighting this burning
my fingers are yearning
to twist this blade
inside your heart
...
you shake your hair
and my dreams fall
like arrows shot
from Cupid's bow
...
I have not lived
but for 22 years
I wondered with eyes half open
and ears half closed
...
a cast away
thrown from the ship of sorrow
swam out into the black sea
searching and yearning for land
...
today I watched my dog (Killian)
jump over a five ft. fence
3 times trying to get to the neighbors tree
and bite this squirrel
...
trapped beneath the surface
the icy cold fills my lungs
I watch the suns rays
bounce off the waves surface
...
It rained all summer
and it was fitting
because the world
mourned the loss of
...
I exist
on xanax and beer
poorly written verse
and a little bit of fear
...
rage was taken
stolen in the dead of night
to scared to fight
or put to flame
...
I cant free you from my mind
I cant let go of the noose
you tied so carefully around my neck
seeing you in my mind
...
I went to the ocean
Parted the seas
and she was
kind enough to reveal
...
In a couple days I am scrapping all these shitty Emo poems and starting over. 'A great poet, a really great poet, is the most unpoetical of all creatures. But inferior poets are absolutely fascinating. The worse there rhymes are, the more picturesque they look. The mere fact of having published a book of second rate sonnets makes a man quite irresistible. HE LIVES THE POETRY HE CANNOT WRITE. The others write poetry they dare not realize.' -Lord Henry from the picture of Dorian Grey by Oscar Wilde You could always turn the page.... R.I.P Logan Alexander 1/21/09-5/16/09 You are Loved....)
Going Away To College
Another sleepless night
I count numbers and sheep in my head
but everything brings me back to you
and the smell of your perfume
you hang like a shadow
the star of every picture
in the projector of my
broken mind
everything is fine
and the world rests its weary eyes
while I pray
that you are alone tonight
Bryan, how do you discribe his poems, I will try to do it justice, They are real they are a part of him self, they are brilliantly written and amazingly awesome, Keep it real Bryan! !
hey babe i found your works of art! ! ! ! i didnt see any bout subway cups and crank that batman jk i live your poems your quite talented at more than one thing! ! ! lol -thursday