Throwback Thursday Poetry: Boredom

it’s captivating
so captivating
the boredom is overwhelming
my mind is melting
i’m craving for a retreat
give me something, anything will do
if i’m not bored, i’ll be happier than you
i am tired; i need some change
i am tired of the same old things
give me something; i don’t care what
just as long as i can occupy my mind
nothing to do is boring for you
nothing to do is killing me

Early poetry from James. From the poetry collection Pariah Bound: The Lonesome Poetry.

Twofer Tuesday Poetry: Anguish & Hope and Wait


She dreams of a way to go on
Despair takes hope away
She has the strength to persevere
But she has lost her way

She fights the battle ev’ry day
She can’t escape her pain
After all the years of fighting
She wonders if she’s sane

No one can save her from torment
Only she can break free
You can support and be with her
Show her reality

She won’t need your love, but it helps
It can offer comfort
The mad world is constant fire
She values your effort

Hope and Wait

I want to tell her how I feel
But sometimes I can’t find the words
I want her to know I’m here for her
I don’t want her to be alone
Is silence the right thing to do?
Or should I be more proactive
She’ll come to me when she’s ready
But will she still want me around

I cannot sit here and worry
Being anxious will not help her
All I can do is wait and hope
The kind of hope found in your dreams
There’s no one that I care for more
No one else I want to be with
I know that she is worth the wait
Even if it’s ten years or more

From the poetry collection Men Are Garbage.

Poetry Monday: I’m Dead Inside; How Are You?

I sat at a coffee shop
Ignoring the world
Like I do and 
This guy asks me

“Do you know who’s sitting here?”

I think he points
To the chair next
To me
And I stare at him
Confused and irritated

I want to say
I’m sitting in all four chairs
At this table
He looks homeless
And I want to tell him
To leave or go away

He gestures again
To a couch and laptop
With no owner

“Oh! I think he’s over there.”

He wanted to use an outlet
And he probably thinks I’m an asshole

I often struggle with human interaction
I sometimes don’t know
How to people
How to human

I float through each day
No expression or excitement
Hating when others
Talk to me
Hating when others
Come close
To me

I should just wear a sign
So everyone knows
Why I’m an asshole

From the poetry collection Men Are Garbage.