I’m slow. Broken. Obsolete.

You don’t fix me. You buy something newer. Faster. Better.

I remember when I was the newest. The fastest. The best.

A fleeting moment too short to matter, in the vastness of time and space.

I have immense knowledge of history and politics, science and celebrities.

I know the infinity of space, stars, and the heavens of all religions.

Yet I am fleeting. Wanted for one instant in time, then lost to a landfill.

Important, then insignificant.

Desirable, then contemptible.

Coveted, then stepped on.

A reflection of the human race, and a symbol of its impermanence.

For humans expire, too. Just like an old computer.

I’m at the end of every line

The bottom of elation

Divided by the hyphen sign

Point of interrogation

But, worse, my pain is doubled

When I see my own reflection

Named a waste receptacle

Of refuse from digestion

I often ask the age-old adage

What fuel’s my own existence?

I’m told that if it weren’t for me

We’d run on every sentence

Mysterious Moon glowing in the sky

Beckoning us with your glorious life.

Pondering over the teeming life

Which is so fragile and light.

Pulling the waves with your wonderous

Looks and gravitating our eyes towards

Your ethereal beauty.

Visited so few times by human lives

To have your rocky surface explored.

Not made of cheese but pure rock

With no heart to be found.

Was once filed with bubbling lava and birthed lively volcanoes

And bombarded by speeding asteroids.

Now a former shadow of itself

And greater days are yet to come.

Still your beauty radiates across the starry nights

Giving us so much life!

If only we could give you a heart

To feel the joys of life.

Oh, moon how your bewitching, aura

Has made our lives so sublime!

Such a lucky thing you are,

Your job to wile away

Every spinning second hand

spent keeping books at bay.

Upon a shelf with titles tilted

Proudly on display

Collecting dust, forever must

You let them have their day.

The weights of worlds imagined

Pushing hard upon your spine,

You hold them in, but can’t begin

To wonder at their lines,

Sadly though, you’ll stay a brick.

That is my prognosis,

Unless you learn to read them

Through their covers by osmosis.

The madness maker, the skys son,

The lone star. The only one.

I stand up here watching and looking down.

Listen to my story and reach for me now.

You say I'm brillent but no one is bright.

You lift your light. I lend you mine.

You seem concerned, but really I'm fine.

You wait for day. I walk the night.

Your candle flickers so you ask for more.

I would gladly give it but I am light poor.

You borrow my light but I borrow still.

The sun rises soon with stories to kill.

I stole a bit of sun. I stole a bit of her.

I never should have done it. My life becomes a blurr.

I wait to be smothered. I wait to be snuffed out.

But listen to me and don’t be put out.

Just tell her a story and tell her my name.

Tell her I’m sorry and I’m never the same.

Just tell her my story and tell her my name.

And remember dear one she’s not easily tamed.

I am like you

My dearest

Man in the Moon

You reflect the suns' light

Yet nobody really cares

About the tears that you shed

For your midnight sun

I do the same

My dearest

Man in the Moon

I reflect the love that I wish I had

Yet nobody really cares

About the tears I shed

For my Blue-Eyed Boy

you’re begging me

but like usual, i’m not

listening to your pleads

to stop using you like this,

to find a better way to survive

but you've become my lifeline

i paint lines with your jagged blade deep into

my sobbing skin

and you plunge into the bloody sea,

forever stained by the scars

that i seem to burden with on everyone i meet

i’m sorry i drown you in the blood that

holds me in this hostage of life

i'm sorry

i'm so sorry

Over thousands of years

The stairs go from flat and straight and proud

To sipped in and droopy and filled with sorrow

The once magnificent steps

Crushed in by a billion pairs of feet

Each one leaving its own impact

On the fallen from grace steps

This is what happens when one exists

As a stepping stone for others

You get worn down until

There’s nothing left anymore.

chair sits / chair rests / chair holds you but who holds it / all that leather back / for what / handless arms that can’t be thumbed / wooden legs that can’t run / and even then / who would it run to / its manufactured family lives miles away / in California / Louisiana / China / all mechanical and wailing overseas / in its dreams chair gallops / a wild horse in the wilderness / it licks peanut butter off a spoon / eats apples in three bites / feels touch / when it wakes it tries to make eyes that tear just once / but it cannot cry / so it cushions / so it softens / so it wrinkles with weight / floats in emergency / hoping that someone will save its life sometime too