Oh the Places

You'll go if you learn to let go


Whiskey stains the teeth of the smile,
You once said lit up your world,
I read all the letters you wrote me,
I’m sorry I couldn’t wait, 

I told you I needed to be alone for a while,
The sad thing is I think it’s permanent,
I’m killing myself, It’s something I’ve been trying,
It seems these days my only feeling is dying,

I drink too much and these cigarettes remind me,
Of sitting on the step outside your apartment,
The air was just right and your perfume was sweet,
Like lavender, in a summer field, 

Grace, I attempt not to use your name,
When I write you these poems,
But for once let me just remind you,
Of home,

These quivering biceps were once,
Firm with the knowledge of your love,
But how can you let someone love you,
When the only rest you get is caused by a drunken stupor that I found myself in at 2 oclock on a tuesday wishing I would wake up from this bad dream and have you sleeping there next to me and I could wake you up and tell you all about this nightmare. I swear to god why the fuck can’t I love you. why does my mind do this, why do days not feel like years but seconds and why has time treated me like death, only a foreign lover that no longer responds to my texts. why does the clock not reflect the amount of time I spend awake in my bed thinking of you. 

My heart is like a lonely clock tower,
Each hour is a symbol of me thinking of you,
So when you hear bells it’s not an angel getting its wings,
It’s there to remind you, You’re still here,


The miracle was that I felt at all. And that’s something you never give yourself credit for


Hieu Minh Nguyen - “Seven”

"I was born once. I was held and given a name once. And how many times have I wished for something easier?"

Performing during the Button Showcase at the 2014 National Poetry Slam. Subscribe to Button on YouTube!


You speak down to me, 
Like a mother scorning her first born,
He must’ve been better, 
Otherwise you would’ve set up residence,
In this old motel of a heart,
I once told you something I believed about love,
That it’s not about spending,
The rest of your life with only one person,
But instead it’s about,
Being able to spend a lifetime in a moment,
How am I capable of remembering,
The exact shade of your worn out bed sheets,
curled between your cracking toenail paint, 
They used to be maroon, 
You said the deep red reminded you,
Of bonfires and crisp fall leaves,
I find it ironic, that I remember all of this,
about your physical body,
But for the life of me, I can’t remember,
What it felt like to love you












im crying a lil bit

I need this in my tumblr forever.

is anyone gonna talk about how his kids name is bacon???


..this is real.

who names their kid bacon

Calvin and Hobbes were Reformation-era philosophers, as was Frances Bacon. I’m better his daughter’s name is actually Frances, but he calls her by the appropriate last name of the philosopher, just as Calvin and Hobbes are last names.



(Source: pantsareoverrated.com, via peaceful-moon)


Yeah baby I’m the shit,
The measuring tape says I’m 5’10”
but the confidence I stand on makes me,
6’5”, with a jawline that makes, 
Brad Pitt look homeless,
I can make you bones quiver,
like a plastic bag in the wind,
Just by muttering four syllables,
Your daddy issues are no match,
For the metaphors that will tattoo,
Your mind permanently, and leave,
an everlasting impression on your soul,
Richard Sherman took notes from me,
On what it means to be the greatest of all time,
I can make Urkel look fresh,
Just by standing in his presence, 
I slam 20 PBRs just to get a buzz,
I stay drunk perpetually,
Just to put the rest of you on an even playing field.

Do not take my extroverted phrases,
out of the context they were meant for,
The represent a mural, 
Of colorful pictures to shield,
My insecurities behind.
How can I make you understand,
Those 20 PBRs are meant to fill the hole,
Where I used to experience happiness,
Or that plastic bag in the wind,
Floating away, is really just my metaphor,
For love, unattainable, yet you still feel guilty for littering,
Those four syllables, aren’t really four syllables,
They’re words reminiscent of ink stained canines,
That clenched around my mind in a dark room,
At 4 o’clock in the morning, because I couldn’t fall asleep,
Cause my mind was to busy chasing you,
Yes, my exterior is impeccable,
But even the prettiest of churches,
Hold lost souls in their pews,
And were built upon the graves,
Of once living things


Ken Arkind - “David” (CUPSI 2014)

"Not a day goes by without people leaving messages, poems or pictures on his wall the way one would leave flowers at a gravesite. I often find myself sending messages to his inbox, prayers meant only for his ears, things I never expect to be answered."

Performing during the Penmanship Books showcase at the 2014 College Unions Poetry Slam Invitational.

Tumblr I need help!!

My brother’s wedding is next week and I’m in the process of writing his best man speech. I’ve got a rough draft but I could really use your help with notes on delivery, and anything else you might think. So here it is

I was gifted as a child. Not by intellect, or incredible athletic talent, or an over passionate imagination. I was gifted with a family that loved me. When most people are only fortunate enough to have 2 parents I had four, I learned twice as much in half the time as my peers. Like not to put liquid soap in a dishwasher, or not to shoot at a beehive with a paintball gun. And in August of my 8th year in this family my two brothers sent me into a living room infested with wasps in snow pants, a skimask, and a winter coat with nothing but a fly swatter to do battle against these attacking foes. And in that moment I learned more about family than I would in the other 20 years I’ve spent on this earth. Your brothers will sell you out. They will tease you, ridicule you, make you feel like you’ve just done the most heinous deed on planet earth. But they are also there for you. The first time a girl broke my heart my brother Jake took me into my room and told me “hey, I know, this pain doesn’t go away easy but there are people here that love you.” The first time I came home from college and I felt like everything was slipping through my fingers my brother Jeff came into my room and said “hey, I know, college is hard. But there are people here who love you” Pilar. Welcome, officially, to our family, I hope to everything there ever was, that I can be half of the brother to you as I had growing up, and just know, there are people here that love you.

My true colors


You worry
about boys that just want sex
You should be afraid of boys like me
We just want your heart
Capture your mind with small poems
And show you music
that makes your soul excited
and causes you to want
Don’t give me your body
I don’t need it
But be weary when you 
give me your heart
Because that’s when
My true colors show
And you use them to paint
And to make good art
From a broken heart



Self-Destruction-“The act of destroying oneself”

Living like there was no tomorrow,
Holding on to my immense sorrow,
Thinking that this whiskey can somehow drown it,
Thinking that this pain is something I can live with,
Not sharing shit, because this is what I was born with,
Saying to my father…