Cojjinsecrets

Trigger Me Something, something, something... With each pause I make, Leaving fractured images of things Some lost, some true, some drawn Drug painstakingly through mud and dust Seen only in ink puddles spilt over blur lined pages Like sutras sewn with unsure hands Wavering, with my heart Like this WiFi signal that keeps me here Connected to a chance A chance for you to break my heart again tonight With the sound of a voice that, like a gun Has pierced one too many holes through this soul Left to bleed alone beneath the stars we once loved Alone and quiet, behind an empty garage Under stolen lonely covers, Sooth secret whispers

C -R- N Somewhere lost in awkward places and Situations Buried beneath rubble Like looking through glass and water With cancerous trails of grey and blue smoke wisps Tracing over scars Invisible to all but the demons Like crazed circus animals Toys, found at my feet With blood splatter and a hint of horror Only found in vivid imaginations Like dreams we would label nightmares Something only true to “Should have’s”, and “What if’s” The things that etch away quietly at, now, fragile glass Remnants of two hearts held on shaking palms Long since laid to waste Ever beating away Spraying blackness, tainting the

Falling Pedals If the world could think... Do you think it's suicide would be as beautiful as the poetry it writes With ours now?   So fleeting, with a touch of familiarity.   Something that could only be for you.   The world is spinning,   My feet forgot their equilibrium and left this place, Casting the rest of me into the lines writ from this unkempt tip.   Dry,  sharp, ... and thirsty. When chaos becomes it's own shadow, and the birds refuse to accept the sky, Where can I find you? Will you be there waiting, like the ink from a vase long since tucked away, For fear of it drying before words beautiful enough... and worthy, To be dr

The sun is gone and I've left this place The clouds clear away with harsh breaths and frantic flailing Something masked and hidden, like a private display of insanity Of weakness Revealing tear streaks through the layers of dust dirt grime and blood The things that now make up my worn face Like a mask that fails to hide the disgust I wear behind my eyes as I stare coldly at your face A constant reminder of who I am, and who I cannot be Teasing and taunting me until I begin to shake Then like an elixir coursing through my veins, it all drifts away Transforming into violent screams and uncoordinated strikes of fury Targets unknown, and insigni

A Lonely Morning Memories and dreams compete for their place Like shadows over pupils and eyelids made of sand Itching, and scratching at the surface of reality I am cut, sautéed by sharp lines of poetry The seepage fills me slowly, like bread in wine Leaving me sluggish with liquid regret Things that won’t form tears, too far beyond and yet, beckoning at their surface Poetry I can’t write, but can feel Like ants across my skin in a world of trees for men The strings of a violin pull at the frayed and fractured ends of things you once saved Useless now, and forgotten Except in these mornings where the bed stays warm, and th

07 Time is like water, ever moving and yet so constricted Offering reflections of things lost in it, and found in it A mirror, a cupboard, a portal to another world Something found in dreams, and yet so deceiving to our reality. Take me under, with every word you won’t speak And tell me of things I have lost Take me under, in the way you won’t let go As I drift away downstream, so far away Take me under, and hold me tight as I drown in the depths of something I won’t forget Something, I’m not so sure was real Something, something, something It’s always something Except you You’re Everything, and I can&rsqu