alcoholicpoet.com

 the villain makes his entrance in the spaces we've neglected. the trees clench their fists. distraught at the apathy of the forest. 

we slip into the void. sour candy melting into our lips . distant voices shout at the colors that have bled into our wounds. 

the little doll has her stones sharpened. as the fairy tale comes to its apex. 

the breath of the wolf hot on the back of her neck. 

breadcrumbs fall like tears as she stumbles over her  beaten path. 

all the witches stoke their cauldrons. her journey corrupted by stolen skin. 

she looks the wolf in the eyes. prepared to be eaten. 

she asks the wolf how big his teeth are. 

and he just grins. 

she smiles back. daring  him to swallow. 

knowing that he'll choke on her. 


Filed under: Sad Poems December 2024

alcoholicpoet.com

the world arrived in a dizzying array of scattered puzzle pieces. 

a swamp of soft flesh to swallow us. 

all their voices part of the broken picture that our bodies had yet to solve. 

we never asked permission. we just took what we needed. 

running down the mountain. chased by all those boulders. 

stunned by how quickly they overtook us. 

it was never time that we needed to charm. the years were more than patient. 

it wasn't our loyalty that betrayed us. it spent every penny so carefully. 

it's our words that have always been the most dangerous. 


Filed under: December 2024 Sad Poetry

alcoholicpoet.com

A sad poem about unexpected change. As if there is any other kind. 


yesterday i was only a number. now her words have been added to the puzzle.

her skin is a riddle that still remains to be solved.

the sharp corners give the devil egress. a single flame that haunts a lengthy corridor.

the light counts its footsteps as it approaches the door.

possessed of the enviable valor of the naive.

a thief itself, dwarfed by reason.

the light touches the window. to feel what it cannot see.

the chalky grins of its prisoners. the cotton eyes of their empty rooms.

the light holds its breath. 

violating her carefully curated darkness.

as it surreptitiously enters. 

undeterred. even knowing that,

once inside, there is no exit.


Filed under: December 2024 Sad Poetry

alcoholicpoet.com

Some sad poetry needs no explanation.


the puzzle solves us.

in shallow cuts that take too long to scab.

the numbers measure us.

in the bits of skin that never learn.


the answers sicken us.

more so with each question that we ask.


we count out loud.

every breath a test to see if someone still listens.


the edge calls our name.

in stilted devotions.


we can negotiate the distance,

but gravity always wins.



Filed under: December 2024 Sad Poetry

alcoholicpoet.com

A little bit of sad poetry about the combustion of choices. 


she idles. treading in the throat of time. waiting to drown. 

she listens. to the currents as they devour the islands that still remain. 

the moment swallows hard. and she wonders will it choke on her. 

but the truth is, she knows she's too small. 

their choices explode. a cacophony of touch. 

she wonders. whether the monster under her bed will find its way between her sheets. 

names are for the privileged. choices are for the fortunate. 

and she is neither of those things. 

she measures the distance between them.

 by the fire under her skin.


Filed under: Sad Poems December 2024

alcoholicpoet.com

a little bit of sad poetry about continuity. 


the end is a lazy beast. all hollow claws and torn tickets.

the show is always running. thumping stages full of voiceless actors.

the pauses simmer between our words. a vicious punctuation.

we idle too long and the shadows move to overtake  us.

every breath a chasm. the venom is sweet as it learns our names.

the lie is gentle as it unzips her dress. 

as the music quiets, time knocks on the doors that we've locked. 

patiently counting  the voices trapped behind them.


Filed under: December 2024 Sad Poems

alcholicpoet.com

a little bit of  sad poetry about how our frailties make us strong.


dragonflies and caterpillars tell their tales.

delicate wings scrape the wind. shattered cocoons tease the sun.

loose skin falls away as we move to touch.

the bones underneath more broken than we expected.

words turn to clay. much too soft to hold.

we play gravity's infectious games.

flying and falling again and again.

never knowing if we've won.

our voices fade to whispers. our bodies become ghosts.

life is an icicle. time is an oven.


Filed under: December 2024 Sad Poetry

a dark poem about the foibles of humanity.


arrogant monkeys discard their collars.
convinced their leashes are also gone.

they worship their temporary gods.
unaware of their participation in time's lengthy comedy.

the world tilts against the weight of averages.
the brilliance of the few collectively stolen.

they gather at the well. all desirous of the water.
they drink their fill. never working to replenish what they've taken.

the monkeys give themselves names.
to demonstrate that they matter.

the monkeys gather their stones.
to throw at each other.

the world swells with the prevalence of the mediocre.
an insidious infection.

the monkeys bang their rocks.
beseeching their imagined saviors.

the monkeys put on their tuxedos. 
to prove that the party isn't over. 

time attempts to answer their questions.
but they won't like what it says.

what the monkeys don't know
is that the end of the world has already started. 


Filed under: November 2024 Sad Poetry

alcoholicpoet.com

a poem about the nature of weakness. 


wear the wind.

the smothering contradictions

that put their faces in our blood. 

rebuff the tired poverty of flesh. 

let all their hideous stories grow stale. 

be born in the choke of death. 

alive because we must. 

nourished on simple lies. 

wild animals tamed by the claws of emptiness. 


Filed under: November 2024 Sad Poems

alcoholicpoet.com

a sad poem about inevitable decisions. 


the canopy of time. all festering knots and shivering resentment. a stilted assembly of changes never to be realized.

the end has its own voice. the quiet disciples of why. they peel away our skin looking for the monsters underneath.

evolution is weak. like gravity.

we fall not because, but in spite of it.

we polish our crowns while the wind chews up our paper wings.

the economy of choice is such that the balance is always negative.

the truth is loud enough, but we choose not to hear.

the doors to our cages are unlocked, but still we don't leave.


Filed under: November 2024 Sad Poems

alcoholicpoet.com

a sad poem about human evolution. 


 the window is painted shut. no reflections dare taste its glass.

the building is made of sour candy. its walls are rotten.

the oven inside it is hungry for strays. the villains bait their traps.

the wolves outside dare not breathe. for fear that the pigs inside might escape.

the door is heavy. the lock is rusted. 

the rooms inside are all empty. 


the story is older than all of us. it  never changes.

we are lost.


not because we don't know where we are.

but because we don't remember where we've been. 



Filed under: November 2024 Sad Poems

alcoholicpoet.com

when we were new and gentle the world would let us run. we had no need for promises.

everything was small. and the things that we wanted were irrevocably ours. 

but time must draw its nooses. and nooses will always find their necks.

now we are worn and aggressive. animals chafing against a stiffening leash.

every breath thick with the places that we've been. strays dropping breadcrumbs on a one way street.

we look in the windows. but all we see is our own reflection.

we knock on the doors. but inside, no one answers. 

skin is paper. touch is ink. words are the poison that wears our faces. 

it's a fever of choices. dominoes tumbling in an endless cascade of why.

inside an abattoir of questions. 

as we chew on the fingertips of time. 


Filed under: Sad Poetry November 2024

alcoholicpoet.com

a dark poem about how those who do not learn from their mistakes are doomed. 


corners stir. like blood smiling through punctures.

the numbers are manipulated. the math is corrupt.

the walls quiver. the doors are shut.

the war is cold. the soldiers are all corpses.

the corners whisper. like heavy rain breaking glass.

the truth is diseased. the lies have become us.

the end grins. its smile all polished fangs and cracked lips.

everyone devours the rotten meat.

too hungry to notice. 


Filed under: November 2024 Poetry