Riddle me this:
what do you think of my thoughts?
Are my eyes beautiful,
my hair soft and strong?
Does my presence make your insides smile,
your knees weak with fatique and desire?
True or false-
I am perfect
to you
.
Do you really want to hear my opinions
my stories and fears
or are you just waiting until I'm comfortable enough
close enough
to do things a Real Me wouldn't approve of,
gasps at
just wanting to wet your you-know-what
in my you-know-where
right, sir?
Yeah, I'm a ******,
is this a problem?
Probably
if you had any sense,
are you insane?
Can't possibly be any other explanation
just a silly old me
a ***** old you
nothing to bind us but biology
some laughs and my over-tenderness
too young and ancient for this ****
need a break
solitude solstace and Sierra Leone
lionsgate playgrounds, forbidden fruits of unknowledge
a reality
that isn't real
but good enough for me right now
am I not enough?
No
just not the one
for any
one?
D'accord?

no matter how
or who
or whenwherewhy
things happen,
almost naturally
as if time is true
and matter interacts with said time
in such a way
that life exists
and then
it doesn't matter
because
all is
and all
is all
there can be expected
to be

All men:
can't be generalized,
like to think they're all basically good,
maybe even human
yes, all men
lovely in their ways
can make a girl feel
like the most desired
car
touch down
fishing rod
cd
and anything else
that that man may desire,
they can make a girl feel
like she has the right to say no,
to have self respect
though she may want to act as if otherwise
can make a girl feel
valuable
to all
that she is making the boy's life better
by being in his presence
that he truly wants her there
with him
and it's great
in that moment
to be desired
and perfect
for the right boy's brain
and then it's gone
because
no girl is perfect
and many are pretty
and in fact
many have decent qualities
and then
you just sigh
because you saw it coming
and as it's going
all you can do
is wave and pretend not to care.

What would you think
if today
the sky began to shrink
becoming nothing
until we were no longer protected by a blue blanket
but could only see everything
the universe
no atmosphere
no clouds
just all that truly is
lightyears away
stars and galaxies would cheer
for our courage,
our unprecedented step into the fearful truth
and we'd laugh
because it's not so scary
when all is revealed
to be nothing more
than better than you could have ever imagined.

I don't want to be seen
I just want to be read
or heard without having to speak or make any kind of effort.
I don't want to have to make acquaintances
I'd rather just have us be life long friends and forego the introductions
and awkwards and explaining of favorites and flaws
I just want it to be known all my weirdnesses and quirks
and be left alone when I need to be in time out
but still liked when I get out and decide it's possible to be human again.

Said he couldn't take advantage
because his BAC wasn't quite as sky high
respectable
a gentleman I presume
assume
he doesn't care today
one way or the other
how things turned out
or didn't
can't blame him;
many people in the world,
each is just one more
holding them back from the others.

perpetuated indifference
freedom and fleas
cats in the trees
loving the grass and twigs
between my knees
and toes
and fragments
in my hair
my clothes
and on a day such as forever
I spoke to another
terribly,
not so good at words
with others
who say words back,
pretty little polka dotted
circles and nonsense
like who are you kidding?
Individuality is not a crime
though faking it is,
as if being unique is even unique
but another copy
of another
a thought already thought
shush up
kiss like a real person
not a slobbery
monstrous
adolescent,
but like a man who knows
or at least cares,
but not about the earth crusts on my skin
or the air in my finger nails
it's all me
and if they can't like it
can't love it
in any way
that can be considered love
or positive
in any form or shape or sound or purpose
then forget
to forget
because sometimes
one is ****** up
and enjoys
a little game
of brain bashing insecurity,
until that day when one becomes self-actualized
(oh please)
and then real forget and freedom may happen.
How boring.

Cute, sweet boy
his eyes light up and gaze
yes, ******* gaze
like I'm some beautiful princess or wonderful mind
when you drunkenly look down into me
and it feels great
like I'm a human
your human
and I want you to wrap me up in your arms and tell me how you love things
maybe teach me some more guitar
tell me how I have the prettiest face and the blondest hair again
wait
why aren't you being so forward anymore?
This is the last time we will be together
why aren't you kissing me?
You tried the other night
I resisted
I was afraid:
of being a *****
of a kiss leading to more
but now I'm ready
I want the kiss and you're being a gentleman
you take me to my house and tuck me nicely in
then kiss me goodnight
just once and say see ya
I ask for another
you sigh and give in
but I want more
and more and more and more and more
until you're all gone
but what?
You left me
tucked up tightly so that I can't even chase after you
you're gone alright
never again to look into me like I'm great
never to make me feel special
I wanted you, you know
I looked forward to you
wanted you to touch me all over
would have made you feel like a stud
but no
I had my chance to fulfill my "needs"
and I acted like you owed me ****
like respect
I really just wanted to makeout
and cuddle
but no
I was afraid
and now you're gone
****
only **** boy to show interest
and now you'll only make my heart sad.

It's time to get xenophillic and leave home for a bit.
My place is nice- loving and airy,
but it's feeling a little too little and crowded
and I have many fears of close walls.
I think I need to get oh so very lost and embark on my own personal odyssey;
I need to be uncomfortable and alone, afraid and poor
in order to feel alive.
This departure will arrive sooner than realized
and mostly I think I just want to forget and put distance between my thoughts and my feelings.
I need to run to the mountains and jump to the tallest tip-top and scream out my soul
until my brain echoes and time rewinds
and I can have impersonal close relationships and feel ok with being mediocre.
I want to fall from craggy cliffs into carnivorous waters
and live to drink delicious poison.
I want to be reckless and break some bones
and wake up in another country with a panda.
I just need to stop emoting and start being irresponsible.

Sometimes, all the times
I pretend you are here
to wake up and smile the sun to life-
I imagine you beside me
close enough that I needn't move to kiss your hair
you're already there
eager to just be
with me
and the day
and though nothing else matters
not the space nor the place
but just your face
your hands and lips of course
it's nice to know
that you can take part
in experiencing everything with me
such as the ways
that air molecules fill our room
bursting with energy
and the pieces of furniture
are gathered round to see such a sight
two silly humans
becoming crazier and crazier
about each other
one another
and on those days we can't be together
I just remember
you are in this world existing so beautifully
and my mind may rest a bit more easily

Distended or disgusting,
too big never flat enough
our bellies dictate our worth;
bigger means money for food,
but not enough money for lipo.
Smaller means either
a) good genes
b) exercise
c) eating disorder.
Why oh why must we all be so enslaved
to our belly sizes?
It frustrates me to be frustrated with my belly
it never did anything wrong,
it's just not as flat as my 100 pound classmates
but it's still lovely.
It still digests food, and has a special little button to remember my birth.
Why must we hate these bellies so?

Ever seen the inside of a Teletubbie's belly?
I did
that **** gave me cataracts and glaucoma
which lead to injesting large amounts of guacamole
got huge
mostly in the head-
found a homeless man, let him sleep on my couch
he liked to tell stories about his encounters with celebrities
oh which he was one
back in the day, I think he was on Rosanne
never watched it but he was cool enough
we biked to the overpass to drop waterballoons on those who needed them most
like fake-tanned blondes in convertibles
and bicyclers.
I love all kinds of people and can forgive their beligerence
though mine are quite strange
I like canoing in trees and making mosaics from bone fragments and rubies
just a bit of a mind juggler
smacking singles on counters for pregnancy tests and breath mint
tell a tubby his belly is wide
and boy you'll be scoutin' a whole new skull.

I don't want me to like you
and I don't want you to like me:
however the me's and you's fit
I don't want them to.
At all.
We are not a cute puzzle
with two pieces creating a beautiful scene
no,
we're two people
just people
living
and breathing
but that's about it
because separate we are fine
and will be
always
but together
I would hate you
so much
so yeah
I'm a *****;
but guess what?
Just don't go
liking anyone else.

That tree
it swings
and blows
and loves to show the comes and goes
wanderers and glasses cases with altruistic basses
let it go let it flow
drip drip
down
pails of silt for building *****
all of them, fending off hurricane storms and flooding waters
roll up your jeans baby it's wet out today
muggy and watery
what's the state of our affairs?
He said he wanted one
but only in his head, I think
I wanted him to want an anything with moi
just a silly old anything
that involved his naked body but
he can't do that
can he?
I don't know I'm too afraid to look
too excited to keep my eyes shut
so where does that leave off?
Frozen with hormones and confusion
anticlimaxes burning my brain
his loss
could have been the best thing he ever bragged
or regretted
who cares not me
not him
not the ones holding off the storms and the thorns
not the glint in my eye that proclaims the day is good so long as I can breathe
and then and then
it comes and goes
and so it shows
I need a better use of my rhyme.

Magic mirror on the wall
tell a story, lies are fine
and so am I
just the other day a feller said
my, what great curves youu have
cars and such were never an interest
just a stupid investment
waste of time and money
late late for a very important slate
a new one
out with the old, in with the innovative
get creative
it's impossible
too broad, minds can be narrow as rails
trains pass through
rumbling, rumbling like rockslides in canyons
you in?
Fun can be naughty
not like when you're a child
no
that fun was preconceived frivolty
but this **** hear
yessir, this is real fun
you got it ***
maybe spark some interest in the papers
words with more words
darling tell me a story
make it **** good
about a princess who isn't beautiful
but still pretty, in a rather unnoticeable way
and make her a ****** who loves fire
take it up
makes me all sleepy
when your mirror talks in such silliness.

Never complains
do you
you bird of a feather
jesus incarnate
you so sweet and perfect
like a little lamb
chewing on cud
loving life like
a kite in the sky
so high
bit fragile
don't you think,
made of paper
was once a giant oak tree
tall and strong
sturdy
reduced to paste
liquid
put through rollers
dyed
now flimsy
enough to fly
enough to rip
at the very mention
of wind

Fun costs too much money
just gimme a job
anything
watch yer kids
feed yer dogs
wipe ***** from floors
sell organs
pawn heirlooms and the clothes off me back
need some money honey
have a future
maybe, if I have some money
want a roof later on
even a tent will do
just need some *****, stupid
money.

Catawba, said the bird,
it grows like the mighty Canadians
and is perfect for teas
say what?
Like shrivled little ants on logs
the water left our bodies
sweat and evaporation
hard work made such events occur
toiling away
night and day
doing that **** we do
which is......
anyway.
One time I saw the sun come up
it sprang, so to speak
and on the peak of that afternoon
it fell down
but there was no moon
nope
just a blackness without stars
or light
just had to feel around with hands and sounds and smells
felt like an animal
heightend and feral
good time to be unseen
who knows what the birds would have thought
they were real animals
we were just the blinded re-enactors stumbling around
even though everything was as it had always been

I’m feeling awfully selfish
So listen-
One time I thought it’d be cool to be a person,
One with feelings and thoughts and one hell of a body
But it was work, let me tell you
To be so mortal
It was uncomfortable, caring and loving and dealing with necessities
So I left it
Left my skin and drifted away
Like the breeze
I was gone
And I do not intend
To be quite so human
Ever again.

Skin peels like an orange
a little less acidic
still tasty
does that make one a cannibal?
Or just able to appreciate a taste bud in bloom?
But for real now
show a guy a self-respecting time
and he calls you cool,
cool is cooler than a fool
maybe,
or maybe he wants to tear into your skin
and you want him to
so badly
but you can't be a lady and be a meal at the same time
right?
Baking in the sun
tender and browned
caramelized
wanting to be picked out of a boy's teeth later on
only a lonely little person
with false pride
a lovely mind
to some
to none
to maybe one
one day
anyway
it's an all you can eat buffet
you can be
if you're young and sweet
naive
willing and presented on a platter
plastered, stumbling, giggling
kissing necks, promising future rendezvous
another truth
there will be others
but really
why not just be devoured by the first,
first?

just wait here
buddy
mr officer is speaking now
and do you wonder
with all this first person second hand third generational
talk do you think
i am who i say i am?
i could be
a dog in a suit
barking but no one cares
a man in uniform
beats rock paper and scissors
to a point
where you think there'd be a problem
with society
and it's reasons for religion
like it's just a myth
this true reality
when it's obscured by the light of the supposed enlighted
and yeah
the rules will break
like a fracture in a cast
and they'll laugh
because it's embarrassing
to be human and all
when all else
appears giftly
magic
grab a mic this show's on the road

We rage
like hormones
like hyenas in heat
and ruin homes
(not on purpose, just on Fridays)
So grown up,
we're so grown up
with our mature parties
and relationship problems.
Look! I'm pregnant!
I'm oh so grown up!
We puke up jello shooters
and mama's meatloaf,
wipe the whithered corners of pale mouths,
smile
giggle
hazy glazy eyes
in smokey basements and tree houses.
Oh no,
I do not promote it
I only smoke it.
But what can we do?
I must be thin to be ****,
drunk to be interesting,
naked to be loved.
We need the skin contact
because God knows we can't communicate by words,
either by tweets
or  haphazard ******* in back seats.
We are so grown up
because we accept the filth,
the naughty,
the concepts that un-rad corporate burn outs can't comprehend.
Wisdom in destruction,
life in suicide.
So allow me to fill my nose with shaymen's powders,
so that I may regress
to the days that I was Daddy's ballerina,
and school yard games lacked dark ****** undertones.

Je suis tres bien
je pense,
mais aussi tres triste.
Je ne sais pas,
ma tete est tres comble de problemes,
comme
"porquoi je suis tres bizarre?"
ou
"a quel temp nous sommes manger?"
Tous mes amies sont tres belle
mais les garcons ne me pense pas,
ils aiment mes amies.
Je dis "d'accord"
mais je suis triste,
c'est possible je ne veule pas l'attention
mais je ne sais pas.
C'est possible
je suis un etranger.

We have standards here,
no litter, eye sores
no bird feeders or
"off" colors-
you want a fence?
We can put that through to the HOA
get back to you in two years
I'm sure you'll still want it then.
You like cards?
We play and chat
like good little women,
eat sandwiches and the like
like our mothers did
back in the day
you know
when *** was a myth and the world was for only certain people-
you know
a time where the air was pure as bleach
but you'll fit in just fine,
we'll be good friends
follow our lead and you'll be a lady in no time.

Let's do **** together
**** some ghosts eat some zombie innards and outers
eat me
I got big lovely brains
taste like warm honey
stickiest of the icky
mickey mouse club house
getting twisted up in your zipper
bring it on down to my dimension
the fifth
pleading for mercy or attention
maybe to be left alone with a stack of cash
crash the waves against the starry night
kiss me you fool
****** ***** ape
gaping at a film reel like it's more interesting than my emotions
****
need some distractions
always some abstraction
of false affection or sobriety
gimmee a break, a piece o' dat ***
bongrips to make you feel blind
yeah that's it
what's his name?
Still remember
flash back to brown eyes and sweet stares
smiles to make a belly shrink and swell
selfish in needing a gentleman
wanting to turn him naughty
make him an inmate who hasn't seen a woman in 40 years
too late
fall down some stairs
wake up with bruises, confuses the neighbors
shut up I'm fine
always fine
always lyin
God I love the summer

Mother may I
shall we
do what is promised
in the name of shallowness
for terrible non-reasons?
Views are views
even if not agreed with
but should such narrow opinions
be displayed
or even thought of
at all?
When one is offended
there are many reasons:
most valid
others just in the name of argument
but should a personal
albeit ****** opinion
be judged for all aspects of one's life?
Maybe
or maybe all will argue
because all are different
and winners and losers aren't real
but are merely mirages
and a thought kept in a head
can't hurt
so long as the sticks and stones remain weapons of language
and civility and courtesy can be practiced
like real live humans.

Nudge a numb cockroach and he'll love you for life
just ***** little lemonheads
can't actually survive a nuclear explosion
but can cause catastrophic evolutionary queries
like "Why do the good die young?"
Can you believe
that long ago only the bad died elderly
and were witches with elixirs
potions and spells to make God blush and his **** turn to mush
so powerful
they made people go crazy with
judgement and micromanaging
but I'm the real witch
right-o I ride broomsticks and eat toads for snacks
my back is a lump of coal from the Devil's morning hookah
smoke billows from my ears
cockroaches my best friends
we cut off our heads and run into fridges
my pelvis is frigid except
for those **** roaches.

cool to think
that tomorrow is another day
(if you're lucky)
and then another may follow, God willing,
(or whoever)
and that tomorrow may be wonderful
can be
will be, even if terrible
it's funny
all of it
the awful and the awesome
and tomorrow can be anything;
could be the beginning of a new everything,
the end of it all
always an adventure-
can see each person as the most unique creature on earth,
each leaf as the most beautiful,
trip to the grocery becomes a story worth remembering-
can make life worth it, if you want
and to want such a thing, well
even all would say that can't be but so selfish

Sounds like:
you know,
got a head in a musky chiminey
you and me
we're not so different
not so evolved
just play **** erectus
walking tall on all twos
but our minds are a stew
filthy, grimey
yum
want some
?

Creamy and warm
your thoughts
like a swirl of make believe beauty
I wonder
do I fit into the equation?
That perfection of neural impulses
your mind
do I meet the requirements
to swim in your stream of consciousness
convulse to your heartbeat
love you
like you were
greater than yet equal to
me?
I wish I could answer for you
say "yes"
with more certainty on my lips
than moments I have spent
thinking, longing
for your reciprocated desire
not merely physical,
though that would be nice too,
but for your desire to know me
like you know of your own existence
and to continue wanting that knowledge
once it has been realized-
every day
every second
more and more
until we get love- filled aneurysms
slow and steady
becoming nothing
together.

it's been done
sharing the fate
times and goes
like a campfire
smoky and wonderful
but it has to be washed out of hair
smell far too intrusive
exclusive sighs and thighs
couldn't stop you if I wanted to
but who would?
not even the saddest or the maddest,
the crazies or the foolish
it would be simply unethical
downright wrong
to deny such attempts
such thoughts
because in the beauty of beauty
it's the **** best

at the time
were you aware
of what was to come?
did you suspect
predict
what one first encounter
would do to your brain?
had you known
way back when
when life was still worth living
what would happen
in the more present past?
did you know
back when sanity was sane
that you would become
the epiphany of the anti-you,
christ,
did you know
you'd become
too terrible for words
for wine
to be blessed with the wash of the poor
and if you knew
who I'd be
would you
should you
had you
did you
change your mind
change your heart
it's hedonistic ******* ways
or is the pain
too electrically wired
to make you otherwise?

Not sure why
I ever expect anything else
but I always manage to feel let down;
I know what I want
and I do nothing to get it except complain when I don't.
I know that I want to be happy
and what do I do?
I be sad, and afraid
and not very happy at all.
And why?
Because I have bugs in my brain that just love to make my life uncomfortable
and as unfullfilling as possible.
I want to be free and what do I do?
I become a slave to everyone and everything so that I am no longer me
but an image of passivity and repressed desires.
If I were free,
I would scream from the top of a building my opinions
and kiss that freaking stupid boy
and then do terribly explicit activities with him,
but none of that can happen
until I can accept myself and reject the possibility of disappointment.

"I'm a big fan of the way you breathe," I said.
He smiled.
Anyone else would be taken aback and thrown my loneliness into my face.
"I appreciate the fact that you exist," I continued.
His eyes looked at my eyes, but that wasn't the whole story. Not quite.
Because once the delicious visual receptors in his gummy pink brain
receive my Natalie signal of recognition,
it's as if his linguistic region wants to talk to the operator in my linguistic region,
and they strike up a lovely lively convo
about colors, and the weather, and how **** fine the oxygen feels today.
He never says much
with his sounds or voice box,
maybe because his voice box is sore,
or maybe because he's embarrassed of his voice,
or maybe still because his neural impulses and chemical signals
can not be properly conveyed with the noises and syllabel patterns found in a human language.
I like to think
that his thinking is so complex yet pure and beautiful
that any other mind could not possibly comprehend or appreciate its magnitude.
I like to think that he has every answer to every inquisition ever;
he is omniscient. Other-worldy.
A religion in his own
who does not wish to save others but to merely observe, unbiasedly
and make me sink into the depths of admiration
and flood my bloodstream with oxytocin.
What a man.

A certain somebody has the most actively attractive eyes when he grins,
they actually twinkle like proverbial stars;
this fact may be what I despise about his existence most of all.
I do not appreciate the cranking in my stomach when I see his perfect, warm skin stretch
and his ****** muscles proclaim positivity
and his strong calcium teeth blind any unsuspecting victims.
I hate the little fishing hook that rips uncleanly in a jagged form in my blood-pulsing heart
when I feel he hasn't properly paid me my much deserved attention.
I outlined my eyes in dark chemicals and fluffed my hair provocatively to lure his lust
for what?
To realize that I do not contain the proper combination of personality traits to appease such an animal soul
and never will.
I really hate the pitiful state of longing and admiration his uninterested being reduces my willing heart to;
to be strong and independent is desirable,
but to be his is a complete necessity.

well sponoza
what would you make of this?
granted
success is never guaranteed
but I think I deserve
some sort of prize
I tried, after all.
Maybe
trying harder
and relenquishing
everything
will bring about
more desirable results.
So what?
Lose control?
Could be interesting
or detrimental,
both
most likely,
need to indulge
in hedonism
or else
well, ****.

Sliding a can of spray paint out of his mischeif backpack
finger tips began to sense things without touching
they knew they were about to vandalize
and the thought of beautiful work to be created made the nerves fly into a frenzy.
Rattling of  bearing, combining of paint and propellant
pink sneezes out of the nozzle in a wonderful mist smelling of dizzying chemicals
he waves his arm in an arc,
an ark to save a generation from corporate *******,
to eliminate the fraud of the men in suits who shave daily and drink coffee
this kid
wanted to revolt, not knowing repurcussions
or fearing concussions
only the humiliation of being held by the book of laws and treaties,
treating each night of debauchery as a dawn of ingenuity and won victories,
perplexion of the too-calm anarchy of day-to-day America
why wasn't everyone outraged?
Why weren't they naked and screaming and looting?
His thoughts were misconstrued by **** residue
cheap alcohol poisoning
he may as well have huffed the paint
then the cops came
"It's in my rights, I want my rights! I need my rights to write!"
Delirious, disgruntled
he'll tweet about this later,
his first run-in with The Fuzz
while defacing a preschool.

Marching band
of spiraling springs
shifting eloquently
getting a little loopy
off of fumes
cars will make you loony
if they're around too much
on top too much
screeching to a fault
we love it when that happens
that tragedy of fact
where all is exactly as it appears to be
but you sure wish it weren't,
wish it were all a lie
all pretty
all movement and shadow
no fallacies or pharmacies
just us
you know
it could be nice
for a bit
to be a brain in a jar
in a basement
in a house in a town in a world in a galaxy in a universe
that actually exists
to **** it
to there and back
it's more satisfying
than a crying *******'s last song

As if the world were round
he drifts
floats around
no ties
not attatched
even to his body
he's too high
up
above it all
in others' eyes
he seems
unaware that he's all alone
that he isn't cared for,
that the day he dies
will be a day
and nothing more
but he does know
is all too aware
that he isn't loved,
that he is a living ghost
of sorts
kind of an alien, really
it's shocking
to look into his eyes
and see
the tragedy
of one pretending
that they don't care.

Could I be
Your little lady?
Don’t have to tell
Anyone at all
Just want to be
Yours and yours
And nobody else’s
I can keep secrets
Would like to be one of yours
Although I’d want to shout it
To random people in streets,
From the furthest star from this point of the universe
That I belong
Wholly and 100%
To you.

Had another break down
she thought about the boy
stupid boy,
stupid for many reasons.
Instead of feeling
she drank some magic
it tasted like purple fires
and she went blind for a second
then the problems began,
a ****** nightmare
men with the heads of horses, genitals of squirrels,
tennis ***** fell from clouds
grass ate feet
she fell
ground swallowed her whole
she ended up in a cave with some gnomes
they taught her about tragedy
how it isn't really real
just a shame to be thought of
how her heart ache was just her head's way of perpetuation the propaganda of television,
how melodrama was addictive and the most dangerous substance on the planet.
She was dumbstruck at her foolishness
then she was released
back into society
she saw the boy on the street
she said hello
he responded
and she moved on down the street
never thinking of the boy again
except when she was most lonely
and even then
she found solace in the pulling of lonliness,
strength in sadness
its powerful taste giving her energy
and the harmless little boy never bothered her mind again
she was new
broken and better than ever before.

And it's pretty cool
when you're you and I'm me
though I don't know what to say
what could I?
I want to,
say anything at all
if it'll make me feel better about wasting your time,
making you dislike me more
each second that passes
I can only assume
that you are merely humoring my childish attempts and desires
though I'm not entirely sure what they even are,
what I want from you
what you mean
but it's still nice
very enjoyable
so it can be allowed to survive
at least for a while
until it dies
decomposes and I'm forced to face truths
the kinds I hate
though I also want them
because you are just far too intimidating
for me to be around for too long.

Let's say
for instance
that you make me feel
like a wild animal who wants to make you all mine
in many ways
some that you would probably find enjoyable
and let's just suggest
that I want to be
yours in just about every way you can think of
mental, theoretical and physical
of course
more than anything
I'd rather like
to be playing in your sheets
with you,
of course,
such things aren't quite as fun when alone
we can just be a couple of silly people
becoming gods
together
we can make the world beautiful
from within the privacy and secrecy
of walls
thin enough to disturb neighbors
we'll make it a little game
see who can
drive the other crazy enough
to be locked up
forever-
and ever and ever more
I will spend my hours
learning every nerve ending
every temptation
of yours
I'm a good little learner
and you're a wonderful teacher
let's just be terribly perfect
and do nothing
except each other
until the universe decides
it's time for existence to nullify
and then
we can just say
we knew happiness more than
any *******
could ever hope to lie.

Today is only,
this second the last
tomorrow isn't promised
let's have a blast.
Let's get our feet wet
and make some boys cry
and get really mellow
and make the slugs dry.

so I'm back on it
probably for the best-
hard to know how soon is too soon
not soon enough
the brain is a delicate creature
never was one for chemistry,
but I digress
it's worth a million nights of restlessness
loss of libido
a whole new mind
for the moments of not feeling quite so afraid

Still was the Earth
gravity gone, light splintered
where was the dream catcher?
Out in left field
drinking the moon's shine
that's probably why the light disappeared,
it was judgement day, you see,
and as per usual a certain someone was nervous
hysterical, really
a bit under the weather in the mind
but nobody was upset, only slightly concerned
too much feeling could hurt the heart
it's true you know
sometimes
it may be better to have a heart of rusty nails and staples
than gooey candy and cardiac tissue
but which feels better when pounding with love?
Sing a song of sweet serenity
fill your lungs with forever molecules
the Earth was still
and still was there life in the eyes of the dead.

Let's go for a naked dip-
my bathing suit is cute but so is my birthday suit-
oh egg head
don't fall and crack
spill brains and embryo everywhere,
not good for the kids at all
might leave mental scars on long-term memory
let's get tatted like good old native americans
I am Chief Awesome
you are Franchise Emperor
pouring fries and salt into my arteries,
slow, delicious death
why must thou be so appealing?
Don't be so stupid
taste buds are my best buds
blooming like beautiful bulbs in berry season
blossoming
absorbing flavors and releasing neurochemicals
oh so sensible and seductive
get a hair cute Mr. Scrutiny,
you are outdated and overrated
Power-aded lemon-tossed
concluded in cuddling under stars and blankets
blame the infantry
they couldn't save themselves
poor things
just doing duties
just not all appreciated
but we do the appreciating
graphite collages and collagen fills
spill orange juice on tables
perpetually sticky
dodgeball eyes
yes we will be friends.

I need a shot of something strong-
(anthrax?)
'cause I have too much passion for distraction
thought it's probably what I need most,
just a little break from thoughts and selfishness
I do not own anyone, not even myself
it's all variable
it's terrible
this illness of assuming the right to feel a certain way about anything
when you're wrong,
the feelings are wrong
it's possible.
Too much analysis not enough mental paralysis
freeze
let it stand still, we're close enough to the speed of light to halt forward motion of time
slide in a black hole
Helter Skelter, and I'll see you again
a changed man, new person, brain transplant
and I won't care
oceans are forever and round like the universe
citrus smiles mean only positive moments
nothing serious ever again
sight for sore thighs
joy.

Moments of desperation make days of vulnerability
"Tell me I'm pretty"
"Don't I look cute in my dress?"
Look at me.
I look so **** fine and nobody's jaws are on the ground.
My eyes are gorgeous right now
my hair like silk
so why aren't you eye-******* my brains out?
When you get in this state
after disappointment and having your ribcage bashed with a wrecking ball
you want attention
and you hate it.
You hate the self-centered need for compliments
you want chisled men with rippling six-packs
to compliment the curvature of your collarbone
but what?
Nope
not even the skeezes pay a bit of attention
(probably for the best)
because they can smell the instability.
They know underneath that revealing top
is a blubbering girl dying for some double-chocolate icecream and a Ryan  Gosling flick
over and over
"If you're a bird, I'm a bird"
"I want you. Forever and always."
Silent and strong
sweet and sturly
just cuddle me and pay me compliments like a little sweet slave
don't be *****
just tell me my cheek bones are sculpted and my lashes are lush
and my side bends are really making a difference.
Shallow little pick -me- ups,
vocal vicodin
just gimme some nice narcotic attention
so I can stop obsessing
about how lame I was,
how close,
and how he still chose her.

Pitter- Patter-
no more,
just shut up
can't take
nervey nerves
so dumb
no big deal
just feels
out of place
in my face
can't escape
shouldn't
would be a regret
until then
sweats and snips
no relief
not in usual pain killers or thrillers
just thinking far ahead
when everything will be
anxious for another reason.