Throwback Thursday Poetry: I’m Petrified

this hate inside
makes me realize
in my mind
and through my eyes
all i’ve tried
with all the sighs
all my life
i’m petrified

i’m scared to say
either way
these crazy days
are here to stay
hurt by rays
from the sun’s gaze
lost in flames
of purple haze

where to now
i wonder how
this long dark cloud
goes away
leaving me
in perpetual peace
nothing now
seems horrified

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

Poetry Monday: Vampires Are Rapists

Why do vampires
Ask to enter your home
But they don’t request
Consent to bite
Your neck

Vampires are rapists

There’s penetration
And an exchange
Of bodily fluids

Requesting entrance
And requesting penetration
Are different things
Not all inclusive

If it’s not okay for humans
It’s not okay for vampires

If you say it’s okay
Because they’re monsters
Humans are monsters too
Stop justifying rape

From the poetry collection Men Are Garbage.

Throwback Thursday Poetry: Lies

we ask ourselves these life-long questions
to blind ourselves from our imperfections
if we lose ourselves in our places
then we hide ourselves behind new faces

looking for a meaning in life
nothing more in our eyes
running towards a place to hide
nothing more in our eyes

walking through our lives alone
wanting nothing but a home
never finding what we want
still asking why, why not

is it fate or is it life
that gives us so much strife
never wanting to find the truth
only asking for the proof

if we try to do things right
we bring ourselves to our own demise
no longer trying; no longer caring
only looking for a way out

people are nice to you; people are kind
really they are hiding the lies
trusting nothing; trusting no one
hoping for something or possibly someone

fearing pain; fearing lies
fearing the truth behind your eyes
looking for answers and knowing the truth
hoping it all is only a ruse

losing ourselves in our mind
knowing only the instinct to hide
craving the life that passed us by
thinking of nothing but life without lies

lying for attention; lying for greed
lying so people will make us feel pleased
lying to everyone while lying to no one
lying to ourselves for a sense of reason

lies can be harmless; lies can be dreadful
knowing which is which can be a struggle
finding this knowledge can be helpful
but at the same time it can be regrettable

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