This Is Where A Pens Worth Will Be Determined


Humanities Creek

The river was still.

Calm as the grave it flowed along with an almost undetectable current.

At first glance one could miss my additions, but the pain those droplets carried wore a different hue.

There was peace paved accords the riverbank and the presence those traversed tears presented offset the balance.

In truth I loved that visible pain. A rare occurrence to manifest my mistakes and with a swift hand gesture erase them just as quickly.

No better place to wash ones sorrows than an unspoiled sanctuary such as this.

Absorbing my suffering and delivering the softest sense of relief while remaining shallow.

It was rare in those days to allow any speck of vulnerability.

However in that secluded site with the world and its harsh speculations pushed to the borders of my mind, I allowed myself to break.


The Start of Nothing

“Hello darkness my old friend”

I saw the cruelty of the world this night, cold and ironic as it always is.

Tracing my chin that seductive lie spun tales of happiness waiting on the horizon.

And fool that I was I sprinted at the thought.

Brick by brick the internal barriers that kept me afloat these four long years crumbled beneath my blind optimism.

There was new life transferred into this hollow shell and the numbness began to fade.

And when ears caught those dreamt words leaving your lips my mind was finally at ease.

But the illusion had run its course.

Snatched from me the remaining grains of hope id hidden from this ravenous reality.

In its place came the last scar id allow my soul to bare.

The start of nothing.

“The Forgotten”

Spoken with watered eyes and disappointment measured in tons these bitter words are uttered.

So passes another season of false promise.

Ever patient I watch the leaves alter and with them the people whose sweet summer words have grown cold and shrill as the lost city we name home.

You see this tundra was made for the lovers.

A barren yet beautiful period where the many are forgotten and the few are tucked away to be appreciated behind warmer walls.

Unfortunately we reside in the many.

A foster group of less fortunate fun lovers with the horizon on their eyes and obligation tossed to the wayside.

Our cries echo through the empty streets. A banshee like wailing of unanswered calls desperate for acknowledgement.

Sadly we are forgotten, those warm walls are soundproof to the influence of cracks in happy homes.

They no longer see us, the shrouded souls too jaded for companionships warm embrace.

So while the few make memories by the fireside, each passing day edging further and further from those frigid streets.

The many drift on, frozen in time seeking validation from an unforgiving world.

“Must come down”

If I was foolish enough to bare my heart on my sleeve, would you indulge me for a moment?

You are the spark in my existence I’ve been seeking for as long as I can remember.

A trembling sensual soft spoken yet opinionated gorgeous anomaly.

To stand in your presence is to breathe life back into the shell that lost its way.

The bitter reality, I’ll never truly hold you gaze.

Something that endowed in life cannot be contained much as that pains me.

So I stand in the roads center and watch you depart on your journey.

Dancing through the world like only you can.

And I’ll treasure that beautiful pain you left me considering myself lucky.

Hoping I’ll catch your voice on the wind and perhaps even my name.

A drop of honesty 

There was something to those endeless nights drifting in each other’s arms. 

A majestic release from the often exhausting onslaught of life’s little breaking points. 

In the mayhem & the madness you were the escape I required. 

A lost soul granted small instances of paradise within your companionship. 

In those moments that unbreakable membrane between aspiration and reality felt almost gone. 

And I could see beyond the bleakness that clouds our vision to something brighter. 

Though time shifted forward and gentler days have faded into memory yours is a love that will not be replaced. 

“Incurable Pain”

At what stage do the tears cease their fall?

The climax of our last encounter I stood in that passionless hall.

There was a bitter sweetness to those closing hours and though the aftertaste of your absence felt sour within its creases I found a silver lining.

How often we unearth unintended revelation when mining.

Without a breath of hesitation the thought materialized on my plain of emotional damnation.

“Yes she has slipped though your capable hands but in her freedom she finds refuge from her sufferings command.”

However here we stand again, the ground battered with the tears of angel and the blunt cause rests where I stand.

Perhaps my presence is merely destructive.

A corrupt construct under the false perception that he comprehends what love is.

My endless list of solemn wishes will plague you no longer.

Your benefit will come from my banishment because ever instance of my absence you grow stronger.



Her walk was living poetry in motion. 

A soft spoken seductive silhouette with untamed curves and strides like forever. 

There was a captivation about her eyes. 

A parylizing gaze glueing any passing patrons ensnared within her grip. 

& when she laughed…

A harmonious hazel heaven. 

A pure presence that always uplifted this introverted misfit from the slums of his own mind.

Each moment with her was endless time, a marvel like rhyme scheme with no ill intent and to those who know what that meant. Priceless. 

She was the peace to mirror my madness. A shatter to the bleak and underwhelming fabric that caused calamity like sadness. 

In fact she helped sculpt my manic like habits contrast my reality and mold the dynamics. 

Yes I would say she was blessed with grace.


Oh, Summer

So fade in the summer nights of rash decisions and freshly freed personalities. 

As they unleash us into the city the air smelled of the premicious and the pompous. 

The fondest of memories almost felt within our grasp and sweet was that realization. 

As I look back these traveled paths bred both regret and revelation. 

Lacking hesitance we dove into our pasionate demenors and for a moment we were free in the world. 

Sadly we swiftly learned one can only inhabit limbo for so long. 

The summer herald a new generation of the young and hungry ready to embark on tales of their own. 

But you and I we will stand idle and find comfort in the stories we made. 

Today I Turned 24 

You could see summer on the horizon that warm night in Chicago. 
  Solemnly in my solitude I sat frozen as the tide of nameless faces came and went. 
Often my gaze met the skyline and marveled in the serenity such a hectic place could provide. 
  Casually the coupled companions eyes would wander towards the weary traveler. 
Alas my presence could only afford to borrow a moment of their time as our paths crossed. 
  Sunlight was being beckoned to the opposite side of the world and I waved my final farewell.
If a lesson was to be learned on this day I suppose it would be as follows. 
  You flock to observation over action seeking to critique instead of opening yourself to the worlds opinion. Take a firm step back into life or make content in the stories of others. 
And with the stars crowning as the sky transitions to dusk look forward with ambition and allow yourself to love. 

“The Last Note”

Shaken by the falls aftermath we attempt to reassemble the pieces. 

Those early months dragged with a bitterness we’d never seen. 

Endless remembrance of your presence at all reaches. 

And yet in that first winter peace of mind found me. 

You see within it silence brings perspective and your faults are never more visible. 

You question how often you truly tip your hand and accept where it lands. 

The final whispers breeze past your ear and with a somber heart you bid farewell. 

And for every moment that fades another emerges in its place.