Category: Poetry

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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.

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Throwback Thursday Poetry: You Can’t See

you can’t see in my mind
it is not the place or time
to think about mankind
search and search and try to find
someone who does not lie
everyday i cry
i gain a darker side
if no one cares to try
i’ll just lie down and die

you can’t see in my brain
it is not the hardest thing
for me to restrain
i yearn for a better day
when everything is not so gray
i no longer can contain
this evil reign
while you all go out and play
my mind is being slain

 you can’t see in my head
i begin to dread
all of the things i’ve said
i think of ways to mend
all of my broken limbs
i restrain myself again
for all i see is red
i lay here on my bed
and wait till the day i’m dead

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

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Twofer Tuesday Poetry: Friendly Flirting & Intimacy Costs Extra

Friendly Flirting

I spent many days
Weeks even
Building the courage
To ask the question

Is all this flirting
Just for fun
Or do you hope
It will lead somewhere

Naturally
I hoped
It was building
To something

Then one day
I got a message
Meant for someone else
You were embarrassed
My chest was pounding

I got my answer
Without asking
I said I wouldn’t ask
Any of the many
Questions I had
You said thank you
And asked
How I was feeling

Were you worried
I was angry

You’ve made more effort
To keep me around
Than others have

What am I
To you

What am I
To anyone

Intimacy Costs Extra

I’ve had my fair share
Of prostitutes

They were nice to me
Because I gave them money

I thought they would help me
Feel less alone

I was always disappointed

Masturbation is more satisfying
But sometimes it’s nice
To be held

From the poetry collection Men Are Garbage.