Late Night Poet

Tobacco, country cologne
And hard-earned sweat

Scents that, individually,
Meant absolutely nothing

But together brought to mind
The image of my cowboy man

Gigantic silhouette, gruff beard
And piercing blue eyes framed

My picture of perfection
Down to his innermost being


Human Disorder by Thomas Overloop


Human Disorder by Thomas Overloop

October 2010 →


It was the fourth weekend
In a five weekend month

Time for another night alone
Another one without him

My world is breaking down
Drunk Again is playing repeatedly

Tonight is perfect to die.
Carried quietly by hidden plans

"Why are you up?" mom asks
As the pills weigh heavy in hand



Mr. De Pression
Comes around only
When I am alone

But that’s okay
He’s my favorite lover

How he make me feel
Is unlike any other

He hasn’t left my side
Or walked away from me

In this dark room
He embraces me tight

Kissing me feverishly
With his cold lips

Nostalgia set deep in her veins
As the starry sky draped around her

She could hear past voices hum
Like a knife to her aching soul

Their faces clouded her vision
Along with her plethora of tears

When did they become ghosts
Set on haunting her darkest nights?

There it is again

The itch, the urge
To break apart

The need I feel
To melt away

It’s growing in me
Cell by cell; vibrating

But why even when
My loves are not far

Sitting around a fire
Wishing I would join

And I sit in a room
Sobbing and alone