Some people drink themselves sick night after night.
Others get high almost as often as they take in oxygen.
And some find a new lover every other month.
And the sad part of that isn’t the fact that they’re destroying themselves, though it may be true.
The saddest part of all of it is that each of those people are just looking for a remedy for whatever bullshit they’re forced to feel.
Lets be honest, we’re all just looking for a pain-killer. And mine just so happened to be you.
—  You were the only remedy.
There are sixteen people in my Favorited Contacts list. Sixteen people I would drop anything for. Sixteen voices that would ring like a fire bell in the night. They do not know who they are. I never tell anyone about the way my heart covets theirs. I do not tell them that I have cut my chest into sixteen different compartments, and they all have a place in it. I do not fool myself– I know not all love me like I love them. In a way, I am asking to get hurt. Entrusting my soft parts in their unknowing hands. Sometimes I think I am waiting on disaster. Placing bets on who will be the first to break me. But that’s just it. Life is a gamble, and the people you meet could be more than willing to clean you out. Every person I put onto that list is already a breach in my safety wall so it is no use to look for somebody to trip up– someone always will, that’s a promise– but there are people who won’t. People who will collect your broken pieces in their palms and cut themselves while trying to put you together. People who are drawn to fires, who carve you a throne in their chests, who love you so much that you would think that they were the creators of it. I could spend a lifetime, looking for the flaws in the people who I surround myself with. I know some of them will do the same. But I’d rather not, because no matter what, there will always be good ones there.
—  Gamble of Hearts

I beg you, eXit the cage of bone that guards
The remnants of what once was my heart
Do not stir eXcitement in these veins,
I have neither the will nor reserve to fight that hollow ache.

You have laid claim to that which is not yours,
The bloody, raw criss-cross of memories
Etched into my being where only I belong.
The eXhalation of bitter yesterdays from broken lungs
Catch in the holes seared into my throat
From burning screams echoing in my chest.
I cannot eXplain the how or the why behind these haunted eyes
Only the when and the who to each silver laced scar.
You have tried over and over to brand yourself
A mark on me as if I were made to be owned
Rather than crafted of ethereal things meant to be set free.
But your eXhibition no more marks a spot in me
Than the hollow cries of night can lay claim
To the beauty of the fickle moon as it moves through the sky.

© Courtney Turley 2017


Do trees feel
the soft touch
the wind brings,
or the droplets
on their leaves
given from

Can they hear
the chirps
or the howls,
calling their name
through the wind
and the rain?

Do they smell
the buds
they produce,
to give them a reason
to bring them back
next year?

Or perhaps
they don’t need
just the wind
and the rain
letting them know
they are


its a running theme that i call my girlfriend my sky and sea, so i took that to gay poetry! (accidental rhyming? I’m a poetry genious)

waves do not crash from rage
and moonlight is not mearly to shine on stage
the tides are pulled by the power of her light
and oh how her waves shine under her so bright
she has been untouched to her deepest depths, to those other than she
and it takes years to touch someone like her, as one craves to be
despite the distance, and how opposites are
their love is embraced by beaches and stars
the goddesses loved each other, passionate and free
the ocean loved the moon, and the moon loved she



There’s just not enough theories about the implications of Sisko having Dukat’s old office:

Sisko finding Dukat’s hidden stash of bad love poetry.

Sisko accidentally tripping some security measure by leaning on the wall the wrong way. (Dukat is paranoid after all). The whole station has to be evacuated.

Dukat visiting and triggering one of those security measure so he and Sisko gets trapped together in his office for seven hours. So they can “talk”, since they’re “best friends”.

Sisko finding Dukat’s hidden stash of illegally strong kanar. Quark somehow gets a hold of it and 5 people have to be hospitalized.  

Sisko having to remove the mirrors covering the ceiling before he moves in.

Sisko having to sign for a real size bronze statue of Dukat that due to being stuck in the Bolian customs arrives three weeks after Dukat left.


All of the children wore blue today
Except for one little girl
She found a corner where she could stay
Ashamed that she had forgotten

She was the exception
In her bold red tee
And it was a simple misconception
That she was trying to stand out

Although this happened quite a lot
No matter how hard she tried to blend in
She found that she could not
And she was tired of being the exception

People always praised her for being so unique
They told her she was special
Of course this always followed some critique
It seemed they didn’t really like her differences

She didn’t dislike being different from the crowd
She just wasn’t the exception on purpose
And didn’t feel the need to be proud
Of her inability to be like everybody else

It was impossible to be like the rest
When she was so spacey and forgetful
And so even though she did protest
She remained the exception