If love is all I feel Than let it be my muse until it fades If I am consumed by my relationship Than let it devour me entirely I never did have an identity So chew me up and spit me out Love me well Love me right Take me to hell with you Love me wrong And let’s see what’s left afterwards Drown who I used to be Spit on his grave I am sure there will be times when I’ll misbehave

The Mom is hurting. The Sister’s organs are bursting. The girlfriend is drowning. And the dog is limping. 33, And this is me; This is them; This is us. I am okay. I am alright. It’s everyone else who is breaking. I can’t save them. I can’t. It’s all out of my control. People get old. Dog’s get old . . . People have their own past. Some day we’ll have to let go of the things that made up our home. Today, I can tell them I love them. I can support them. I can

Silence Distance Time Love Lose Pride Pushing and pulling Coming and going Healing and poisoning Toxic Magic Beautiful Cold Fear Courage Cowardice Bold Together Alone Twin flames Burning Patterns repeating Hearts bleeding Numb Gone Shut down Alone Searching Finding The world The self Consumed Chained Acting on a stage Consumed Alone Lovers Friends Soul ties Goodbyes Lies Secrets Tr

A faceless lady Visits me in my dreams I can never pin down who she is It always slips out of frame My lady is in the dreams, too We saved this mystery person from a frat party We took her to see the ‘Earth Tree’ And we taught her how to fix her own car From afar The faceless lady feels like someone I know I can only feel her She shifts She blends in with everything She stays out of focus But BUT! Tonight when I dream I will turn to her And I will ask her Who she is Even t

This is the shut down The final bout The end of a good thing This is the end of me, ‘The Writer’ A few screws have come loose A few wires upstairs crossed My lady left me My dog got sick Rent is due Every check engine light is on I’m not this strong It’s too heavy My back is broke I’ve run out of hope The Fighter died, but I wish it was me, not him I went numb I blocked it all out Last time, I sat with it This time, I dissociated I couldn’t handle it all But I can feel t

Find me In the cheapest clothes In the shittiest car Drinking the cheapest beer In the most expensive town Where I will be yearning for the most the beautiful lady in history Who just left me Find me in the middle of this story And yank me out Abduct me, if you can Grab me by the collar and drag me out of here Reach for me between the pages Find me in the space between words And save me . . . Whoa! Hey! Let me go! I wasn’t being se

There’s Kyle, he has Down Syndrome. He skateboards and sneaks into the ladies locker room. I can’t leave his side for a second. There’s Drew, he also has Down Syndrome. He’s always in love with someone new. I’ve known him for 10 years now. There’s Holdon, and I am not sure what his disability is. He's sensitive, gentle, kind and speaks very softly, almost in a whisper. There’s Brain, he has seizures. We don’t know how much longer he will live for. His seizure medicatio

“It’s all in the mind.” “It’s all about what you believe.” “It’s about who chose to be.” “It’s about God’s will.” “It’s about facing your fears.” “It’s about love.” “It’s all about you.” “It’s about everything and everyone.” “It’s about letting go.” “It’s about taking control.” “It’s about using suffering—transmuting it into art.” “It’s all about pleasure.” “It’s about a fella who died on a cross.” “It’s about discipline." “No, no! It’s about responsibility.” “Wrong! Life is

Healing looks like time passing, but time can only be lived, so I bet healing looks like trying to live again. Healing looks like a broken person trying their best to live again . . . For me healing looked like a bottle of whiskey and hundreds of shitty poetry. Healing looked like: a bong, a new job, an infinite playlists of the world's saddest songs, a dark room, a ceiling fan, and letting go of every plan I ever had. Healing looks like d

The mountain moved! I swear the mountain across the river moved! You see, I asked for it to. It was blocking my view of the sunset. So I closed my eyes, and in my mind, I kindly asked the mountain to move. It moved a couple miles to the left. I swear it’s true! The mountain really did move . . . I wouldn’t lie to you! I am only slightly drunk; and yes, I’ve fallen down; my head did hit the ground; I am seeing double; But still! I made a mountain move by just asking it to! How

“Be still And know I am God.” 300 trillion living cells make up me, and I, them. I speak to them. I really do. I speak to them just like I speak to you. It’s true. And I tell them, “Be still And know I am God.” When I slow life down, My mind Gives me a pocket of peace. When I slow life down, My mind allows me to speak— And agrees to listen. I say, “Be still And know I am God.” As I shake in the cold shower, Freezing my balls off, I tell my body, “Be still A

Talk shit about men and you’ll get a few snaps Talk shit about the government and you’ll get a few claps Talk shit about white folks and you’ll get a few toasts Talk shit about the rich and you’ll be sure to be a hit Talk about how we are all sad and on drugs and a few are sure to come up to you afterwards and give you a hug Talk shit about the ignorant and the intelligent, and you’ll gain everyone's respect. Sprinkle in some sex And maybe a few of your kinks And feel the

You lazy sonofabitch. When are you going to get off your goddamn couch and take a risk? How much longer are you going to wait for it? Go take it. Become it. Stop being a coward. Drown the doubt. Now it is the time for radical action. Put down your screen And find out what your life means. Jump. Fly. Live before you die. You will regret the chances you never take more than the mistakes you make. Be brave. Take the stage. Drop the mask. Act as if it’s inevitable.

To sell a soul— Someone else's or your own— For a coin or two, Just to get ahead in this Zoo, It is a tragic waste of a good soul; yours and theirs. It is not what you were meant for. It’s not who we were meant to be. It is simply Conformity. Your time is the real currency; So is your attention. Don’t you dare waste it. The wheel spins; Turn and face it. Money is a funny game, It’ll take a good kid, And make the man he’s

I wonder what social media would be if we posted all of our lives and not just the prettiest and shiniest moments from it . . . This is all fake, and it's also very real. It's a sleight of hand - an illusion. It's a mirage and a facade. It's birthdays, vacations, sunsets, celebrations and promotions spun back on a looney loop. Honestly, to me it is selective honesty; a mask; a display; a stage. Show me all you

Staring at a picture of her and I, I start to feel alive. She pulls away. She hides. I am too much; Always too much for the wrong lady. Gray hairs on my chest now; This one drives me crazy. This love is toxic, But some poisons heal. This love kills, And heals, And repeats; So I let it kill me. Like my boy Dostoevsky said, “I ran into love because I needed it to destroy who I used to be.” This love doesn’t let me rest peacefully, It demands all

After working with people who have disabilities for the last 6 months, I can honestly say, the biggest disability a human can have is a bad mindset. Also, I’d like to add, I’ve been given the ‘R’ word pass. They accept me as one of their own. Just thought you should know. ✌️ CH 5/28/26

Burn me down Bury me six feet under the ground Strip me bare Expose everything Throw your stones Take my home Delete everything I claim to know Take my heart, rip it out of my chest; Watch it pump; Watch it bleed What do I really need? Kill the boy I used to be Let him go; Let him die; Murder my fragile identities Drown me in your love Poison me with your pain Let your true self push me off a cliff Let me fall Leave me lifeless Suck the air out of my lungs Break my bones

I get older in the winter. And younger in the summer. . . . That’s it. That’s the poem. . . . . . . . . . You can leave now. . . . . . . That’s really it. . . . . . . I get older in the winter. . . . And I get younger in the summer. . . . . . . As a result, I never age. . . . It’s true. I’m still Clint Haugen. Nothing about that has changed. I never age. . . . . . . I just change the way I behave. I just interpret the

If I choose myself, If I really choose myself, Then I am choosing the me that loves you; Because I do love you. So how can I choose myself and not love you? It is the ‘I’ that loves you—the ‘me’. ‘The myself’ that I chose is so in love with you. I can't choose a version of me that doesn't want to share a life with you because that version of myself doesn't exist. That isn't me. It's a fantasy. I, Clint Haugen, love you. If I choose myself, than I choose you. It’s inevitable