Scornful Lover


Scornful Lover

drenched hands in water scalded
trying to rid 
myself of morsels you’ve
left underneath my fingernails

drowned myself in Listerine
killing you on my taste buds

scrubbed skin raw
still the essence of your touch remains
pounding on the padded walls

covering the crevices
of my brain attempting
to protect me 

but memories break through
that barricade of scorn 

forcing smiles I don’t want others to see
my heart pumping joy and laughter

throughout our years
getting lost in the river of tears

draping over my insanity
comprehending the thought
of another engaging
in your sexual flesh unselfishly

when did you forget about me?

our connection buried deep
in the wastelands of someone’s junk
locked away in the trunk
is my soul rotting
at the thought
that you no longer care
what I think, how I feel

how much torture
you must be in
to forget
that this current mirage
you see isn’t real

 isn’t real

Tonight’s Difficulty

As a man this difficult.  As a human being experiencing what we coin as emotional distress, it is even more difficult.  I’m in love with someone that no longer loves me in THAT way.  How does one get over that?  My heart hurts, my anxiety is through the roof and I just want to sleep. Tonight, I have popped Klonopin to help me sleep. I hope it works quickly–at least before I start feeling pathetic and possibly start crying.

Confusion For What?

I’m so confused right now.  I have no reason to be. I know that.  It’s like I want to be stressed out. I want to be miserable or something.  In less than 2 hours it will officially be my ex’s birthday and I won’t be celebrating it with her. I feel so weird. She called me up at the last minute earlier saying we could hang out, but I was so tired from my meds, I couldn’t even comprehend half of what I was saying.  Then I thought–maybe I was a last resort.  I asked her a few days ago if she wanted to do something and she said she couldn’t because she was moving.  Maybe my mind is getting the best of me. She loves me  so she wouldn’t do that to me–make me her LAST option.  I just don’t know why I care when I know she has moved on without me.  I am not a fixture in her life. She doesn’t NEED me.  I know this.  It’s been proven time and time again, yet, I keep getting hung up on the past.  The fact that I wanted to marry this girl and actually proposed.  The fact that I wanted and planned to have a child with her and not even a year later, I’m here in this rut.  How can the universe be this cruel?  Why should I have to bare the burden when she doesn’t?  She gets to do what she wants without a care in the world and I’m stuck wondering, worrying what if.  I hate what my life has become. I hate feeling like this.  I want it all to just go away, but I know in real life it won’t. She will forever be a part of my existence–based on the impact she has had on my life.  That alone may always cause me grief because I can’t be with her.  Anyways, if she happens to read this,  Happy Birthday Sexy Nerd!! Love you Always.

Just Lost Tonight

It’s been a while since I actually created a post that wasn’t a poem.  Poetry has seem to become my outlet again.  I guess that’s good.  The only thing is, is it doesn’t make me feel better about my situation(s) like before.  When I was in college and I used to write, no matter the topic or problem, putting it down on paper seemingly made everything disappear and I felt free from despair, happiness, love, life–everything.  Now it’s regurgitating feelings.  They just stay or go and reappear seconds to minutes later as if nothing has occurred.

I’ve been thinking about leaving my city, my state I’m currently living in.  Just packing up and moving, but to where I do not know.  I just feel like no one gets me here.  I have great friends for what I use them for, but I am not happy.  The truth is that I haven’t been for so long, I no longer know what it feels like to be happy. THAT just makes me sadder and more uncomfortable with life.  I just feel like I’m in this box that is closing in on me, no matter where I go or turn, I’m losing air.  The meds I’m on do help me cope, but that’s just it.  I still have this non-solace feeling of disapproval within myself.  I don’t know how to find what I’ve lost or even if I’ve lost anything at all.  I don’t know if it is all in my head or actually something tangible I need to obtain.  Tonight, I am just lost in the thought of being lost.


I haven’t written in a few days because I’ve been trying to get accustomed to this medicine.  Moreover, I’ve been trying not to think about dates.  My ex’s birthday is pretty much next week at this point and of course I want to do something for her.  Instead of just being passive aggressive and dropping subtle hints that I want to take her out. I will just ask her.  The worse she can do is say no.  As I try to rebuild my own pieces to my life, I always come back to the same conclusion, that she is a big part of that, no matter what.  I wrote this poem for that very reason–see below:


Stronger than the raging
bull pulling
your cart of confused

bearing enough
intimacy and care
to withstand the tornado
of persons you lay to bed

massaging away doubt

deep in your mental cortex
every time you think I’m wrong
for you
no matter how your words slur
tightly pulling the noose 
around the neck
of our connection
this foundation of solid stone
inside our hearts held 
by one–conjoined 
in spaces 
where words need not be spoken
remains unscathed 


When Will You Love Me Again?

When Will You Love Me Again?
emailed a time or two
I miss you
I love you
intoxicated trances
by Klonopin chased
with vodka
when will you love me again?
stuck in a daze
planning and dreaming
up babies and kittens
diamonds and hugs
when will you love me again?
I’d ride pass your building
catching a glimpse of safety
hoping your smile’s bright
as the day I left 
missing your arms
holding my soul
close to your heart
kissing my pain away
with lips forgiving
thinking one day
you’ll be with in my arms again

YES! I Have A Disability

Yes I am disabled, but so fucking what? By all accounts, I am fully functional.  I am so tucking tired of meeting people, women and men, I can see them wanting to ask me what’s wrong with me–like I’m broken. FUCK! I chose years ago to stop answering that question and only provide specific details about it at a time of my choosing.  I really hate that it is such a focal point.  People ASSUMING I am not ok because I don’t look normal.  For 20 years I have asked myself why does it matter because in a sense we are all different and have our share of problems, internal and external.  No, not me. I’m supposedly this walking pile of abnormalities that belong in a zoo to be gwaked at. That’s the fucking worse–adults staring at me like I’m not human.  What the fuck? Oh and he’s intelligent too and he went to college? How is that possible?

Dating is the same way. People find me attractive; some have even used the word sexy, but it’s different when it comes to being in a relationship with me. I’m worth sex, but long term is a deal breaker for women it seems. It’s like I’m half a man. They don’t feel protected or secure. It just drives me nuts and ultimately hurts my feelings to not have the opportunity to get to know people romantically or otherwise, without having to be on guard just in case disability comes up. For once, people give me a break and allow me to be who I am without judging me solely on what you see on the surface.