HOW GLORIOUS IS IT THAT
WE WITH OUR MERE ANCHORS FOR BODIES
CAN EXPERIENCE SHORT BATTLES OF TIME THAT LIFT US FROM WHERE WE ARE
TURN ON THE LIGHTS.
YOU KNOW, WHEN SOMEONE SAYS SOMETHING
AND THEIR EYES LIGHT UP AND
YOU JUST DEEPLY WANT TO PAINT WITH THE COLOR OF THEIR VOICE.
BECAUSE YOU COULD ALWAYS DIG THAT PAINTING OUT OF THE ATTIC
AND STARE INTO THE COLORAND REMEMBER,
EVEN FOR A SECOND,
YOU CAN CLIMB ONCE AGAIN TO THE PEAK OF THAT MOMENT AND REST UPON IT.
YOU CAN SIT AT THE TOP AND SEE FOR MILES,
THE FEELINGS, THE SMELLS, THE BEFORES AND AFTERS OF RIGHT THEN

The cracks in the tile, the foam
on the glass, coalescing iotas,
joined jots, and I see your face.

Mis-en-scenes of sweat, alone
in my room at morning, the
second time I've seen your face
today, and I want to leave some
on my chest.

This is for you. This is for you
And it's all I'll ever be.

So have me taste you - and
consume me. And glut over the
sinewy linings of my edges. Let
moments on the insidde of my
eyes. Show me.

So have me feel you - and splinter
me. And love me til I shatter.
Let me watch, as hands that smell
of honesty and your roughness
press knuckles into my thighs
and bruise them. Show me.

So have me worship you - and
condemn me...

Have me a heresiarch of human
days. Grand me an opprobrium
from sense. Let the scars
that I be you to place upon
me never fade back into the
ideas of my flesh.
Show me, and please, show me
that I'll see your face not
only in the small, but in the
larger death for want.

The engine was still running when she leaned over the center console. He didn't get the chance to throw the **** thing into park before she started to sing. It was a simple song with a slow and steady rhythm, a thumping bass line, and in this interpretation- an early ******. Her amusement melted rather quickly. The look on her face was beautiful. He didn't realize fast enough that, through the rearview mirror, she was wearing a face of terror. As they rolled down the hill, he realized it was both a wonderful and embarrassing way to die.

WHAT DOES IT FEEL LIKE WHEN YOU REALIZE YOU LOST YOUR WAY?
WHEN REAL LIFE STEALS THE HIGH YOU LONG TO CHASE
YOU CAN'T CATCH HIM, ELUSIVE DRAGON THAT USED TO INTOXICATE
BACK WHEN YOU WERE PASSIONATE, BEFORE YOU WERE TRAPPED IN THAT AWKWARD SPACE
BETWEEN FOLLOWING SILLY DREAMS AND RESPONSIBILITIES
TOXIC NAUSEA'S FILLING ME AS THAT BLADE THAT DROPS UNFORGIVINGLY
IT'S AN IMPOSSIBILITY TO REGAIN THE STRENGTH OF THOSE DAYS FILLED WITH ANGST
WITH THE FLAMES THAT BLAZED INSIDE OF MY EYES TAMED
I CRAVE FOR THE TASTE OF THOSE HEIGHTS THAT I BRAVED
FOR THESE WORDS TO TAKE LIFT AND FLIGHT FROM THE PAGE
WITH SIGHT BEYOND SIGHT BEFORE MY SKIES FADE
BUT WITH WINGS MADE OF WAX THAT COLLAPSE IN THE LIGHT OF DAY
I'D HAVE TO FLY IN THE NIGHT GUIDED BY BLIND FAITH
AND FAITH IS LIKE A MAGIC TRICK THAT I CAN NO LONGER CONJURE
SO I JUST WANDER, CONQUERED, WORK TIL MY HANDS AND PALMS HURT
AND PONDER THE MONSTER THAT FOLLOWS ME, A STALKER
THAT SAUNTERS BEHIND ME REMINDING ME HOW I FALTERED

ʰᵉ ˢᵃᶤᵈ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ᶰᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵖᵘʳˢᵘᵉᵈˑ ᵃᶰᵍᵉʳ ᵉᵃᶜʰ ˢᵗᵒᶰᵉ˒ ʰᵉ ʷᶤˡˡ ᵈᵒˑ
ʰᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳʷᵃʳᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃᵇᶤᵉˢ ʳᵉˡʸ ᵒᶰ ᵗʰᵉᶤʳ ᵒʷᶰˑ
ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵈᵒᵉˢᶰ'ᵗ ˢᵉᵉᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵏᶰᵒʷ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵃ ᶠᵉʷ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳ ʷᵃˢᵖˢ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵒᵘᶰᵈˑ
ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ᶤˢ ᵒᶰˡʸ ᵒᶰᵉˑ
ᶤ ˢᵖᵉᶰᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶰᶤᵍʰᵗˑ ᶤ ᶰᵉᵛᵉʳ ˢᵖᵉᶰᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶰᶤᵍʰᵗ ᶤᶰ ᵗʰᵉᶤʳ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗˢˑ
ʰᵉ ˢᵃʸˢ ʰᵉ ᶰᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵍᵒᵗ ᶤᵗˑ
ʰᵉ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶰᵗʳʸˑ ᶰᵒ˒ ʰᵉ ˢᵉᵉᵐˢ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵃᶰᵍʳʸ˒ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᶤ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᶰᵉᵛᵉʳ ᶠᵒʳᵍᵒᵗᵗᵉᶰˑ
ᶤᵗ ᶤˢ ᶰᵉᵛᵉʳ ʷᶤˢᵉˑ ᵗʰᶤˢ ᶤˢ ᶠᵒᵘᶰᵈ ᶤᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᶜᵏˢˑ

THE DAY THEY BURIED MY GRANDFATHER I
SKIPPED TWO TOWNS OVER FOR YOUTO FILL ME LIKE THE SOIL THAT
FILLED HIS GRAVE
YOU TOLD ME TO PRETEND THAT MY LIP
SWERE THE TRAIN
FOR THE TRACKS ON YOUR ARM
I COULDN'T BEAR TO TELL YOU THEN
THAT I DIDN'T MEAN WHEN I SAID
I WANTED YOU LOOMING OVER ME ALWAYS
LIKE SOME SAD AND FRAGILE GOD

Underspoken,
mis-right,
missing heart connection-
directing too much energy to hiding the passion
one self, becoming electricity,
one self,
trying to hide that it’s missing me,
one shell,
tries to make me it’s own,
thin veil,
separates me from home.

blackout city
population you and i
everyone is welcome but not remembered
have a nice stay

the number of  times
i regret being myself
are outnumbered by
the times i regret being somebody else
the times i regret trying to be better
the times i regret trying to be different
the boys i regret
the cigarettes i've smoked with people i hate
the times i fell just short of getting laid
(cos girls need that too, you know)
the times i've been walked in on
the times i put my shirt on backwards
but i still pretend
and every night after every beer
i am somebody new
somebody different
somebody better

I'VE SMOKED MY FRIENDS DOWN TO THE FILTER.
DRAGGED MYSELF TO THE GUTTER.
WITH THE BUMS AND THE BROKEN,
THE WEARY AND DOWNTRODDEN.
THE DREGS OF MY CITY'S TEACUP.
AND AS NIGHT FALLS, THE VERMIN COME CRAWLING.
LIKE ROACHES IN A DARKENED KITCHEN.
OR AN OPEN GRAVE.
SO.
WITH SUNKEN EYES AND A HEAVY HEART,
I BURNED MY LAST BRIDGE TO THE PAST.
DISTANCE, ABSENCE, LOST.