Some things are bigger than
the razor blades
That now seem to cut shallow

I'm so sick of blinking
especially when the darkness is so sweet
I hate that good things only last a second
like we only lasted a blink
and I only felt better for a blink

I can still feel energy in us,
it's pumping my blood.
I'm not tired yet.

But if your energy pumps my blood
away from us and onto the shore,
I can't stop it without creating a hurricane.

So lay yourself to rest on the beach.
Let your mind rest, too.
Forget about me.
Wade in the water when your ready.

I know you prefer the crashing water
when it's closer to your ankles,
I just wish you could hold your breath long enough
to swim through the depths of my non-rushing blood.

I know I'm breathing
because when I tuck my chin
I can see my chest swelling

I know I'm alive
because if I weren't then
I wouldn't feel anything at all
I wouldn't remember anything

I wish I couldn't remember
I wish I couldn't feel anything at all
I wish I weren't alive
I wish I couldn't see my chest swelling
I wish I couldn't tuck my chin
I wish I wasn't breathing.

But I am breathing and tucking and swelling and living and feeling and remembering
everything all at once.

all the time.

And there is simply no worse feeling
than missing someone that doesn't miss you back

And there is simply no worse feeling
than gathering hopes from cherry trees and putting them in your basket to bring home with you
then gathering hopes from your basket and laying them into neat rows, smallest to biggest,
then looking at them and realizing they're not cherries at all, they're not even fruit, they're rocks.

No worse feeling...
than having all of these hopes,
hoping
that you wish you couldn't breathe, tuck, swell, live, feel, remember

Just like me.

But you'll keep breathing like me
and tucking your chin like me
and swelling your chest at the thought of another girl that's so unlike me
and living like me
and feeling what you used to feel about me for that other girl that's so unlike me

Unlike me.

I wish I was unlike me.

I wish you still liked me.

That bobbin' buzz
kills me.

But I'm still buzzin'.

I made the slit
Dug my finger tips in the crevace
And pulled until the wound bled free
All you had to do was smear the blood on my face in the shape of a heart
I broke my heart over you
And now I'm all apart

I chase the waves and ride the current
but my feet are stuck in the sand
as I stand on the shore
the tide turns around my core
sinking my ankles under more

The water crawls up to my knees
Leaving scratches from the shells beneath it's fingernails
it ties them together with ease
I sway forward and my body derails
I no longer breathe the breeze.

gears turning

grinding

screaching

creating

a mechanical me



ingredients fold into a mixing bowl

a pinch

a dash

concocting a potion

poisonous to exposure



this liquidates in the basin of my mind

mixing with machinary

creating a technical malfunction



I will forget what I forgot to remember

I will try to explain

how I can't explain

why the static in my brain

has a constant refrain



but

all of this is hidden

under layers of flesh

disguising the deformity

under my skin.

I've always sensed the scent
coming from down under.
It's the green goo creeping under the door
from my animated adolescent nightmares.

And I'm back to my adolescent ways these days,
yelling in a whisper at my face in the mirror.
Yelling at a the beloved shadow that goes unnoticed.

And if I'm covering up my lies with feelings,
and I'm covering up my organs with skin,
then why am I not covering up my skin?

And I'm covering up my life in a blanket with far too many holes.
but it is still able to protect the boney parts of my body
where my skin is too thin.

Buried next to me,
your head soaking wet in the clouds
thrash it near and far
until it rains on my brains
splattered on the sidewalk
too far from the stars

Heart's broke.

There's nothing to it's name.

I like how you feel beneath my skin
itching and tickling my organs
crawling your way up the side of my body
fingernails digging into my muscles with every step
Even though it's uncomfortable
knowing you're there
The fact that I'm aware
makes me content

Coffee for two
all alone,
with rivers
of problems on paper
of a middle school girl.

He called me his darling
with his mouth full of my heart,
I just hope he chews it up well
so it feels nice slithering down his throat,
into the pit of his stomach.

When I'm by myself I'm often
Happy and sad at the same time, and it's nice and
Yet, I never know how to feel good about it

Darling, Dear, Honey, Sweetie
I hate all of these names, even in my
Dreams

I don't know how to feel good about

What I've done, should I have remained
Anonymous to you, not for your own good
I'm far too selfish for
That, but for my own good because I'm

Selfish enough for that, but I don't know if that's a bad thing
Or if I would want to care about you more than myself

Late at night when I can't dream
Or whe there's too much dream about, I have
Nightmares while I lay awake. So I'll stay awake until it's time to say
Good Morning

When tomorrow can start whenever
you want it to,
it's the time to be free.
While the clocks stop ticking,
related things do their jobs
and go to work,
to keep the current rolling.
"I heard the captain say"
to just keep going.
The waves will pick the pieces up
and twist them all around.
Take non-existing moments
and organize them
because tomorrow can start
whenever I want it to.

It's hard to hear affection
through a mouthful of lies
But I can dance to the rhythm
of the music of your demise

Arms wrapped around air
in an unusually perfect circle
one too loose to hold onto anything
one too perfect to have any substance
one too big to for anything to fit into

My muscles clench tightly
wrapped around my bones
and they shake with exhaustion
but remain in that perfect circle
waiting for something
that will fit
something to hold

We had a sweetened creme brulee
but carrots got tossed in
and carrots don't rhyme with anything
It was good for a while
interesting and intriguing
But I can't finish this cup
of weird creme brulee
but the taste was worth
the seven bucks I paid

The creases in your forehead
make up the lines of my face
and it's the most disappointing
self-portrait I've ever made.

Don't chase after the wild things,
for they run the fastest.

I'm in a coal mine of cold minds
Icycles hang from the ceiling
Stalagmytes byte my iyceberg heart
and stalacytes fill in the hole they ate.

Love is chapped
It's rough and enflamed
I lick its surface with my tongue
My saliva only just stung
So as I wait for the flames to disitigrate
from my unprotected lips
Your balm fills in the cracks
and sheilds over them
and the rocky terrain becomes calm.

My passion
was always to be passionate.

My dream
was to always have dreams.

Now I'm a failure.

I'm just a piece of gum
that is ****** dry of flavor
and stuck on the bottom of your shoe.

But it's not my fault
you didn't watch your step
when you put your foot down.

I have to cease.
It's not that my love has ceased.
It's just that the tenderness in my chest isn't uncut anymore
and I keep cutting the scraps loose far and wide
creating an eyesore for others to sterilize.

This has to cease
because I've put my spirit on trial
and it wound up at its breaking point.
I can't share this world with you
while her shadow lingers, panting on your collar.

I know you can't cease.
I know you can't slay a phantom.
I know that you don't fancy bruising her haunting spirit.

I wish you didn't want to bruise my spirit.
But there's an echelon of interest that I never dominated.

But it possesses all the arena that is my cranium
and the rest is made up of intoxicated words I'll never obliterate.

I know I'm not your Valentine.
But hearts were never a joyous emblem for me anyway.

So I'll leave phantoms of my presence all over your life
in hopes that you'll delete a single blushing gummy letter
written by a ghost years ago.

Memories of that rhinestone choker
loose around my neck

Choke me like you like to be choked
A choker with rhinestone eyes and
hands clasped tighter than a rhinestone choker

Stockholm Syndrome
I'm in love with my captor
and words would just leave this
expression incomplete
as incomplete as I have always been
as incomplete as I always will be

Thank you, my love
for capturing me
and holding me hostage
and holding my hand

I understand.

Your cigarette stained lies
envelope me
until I'm puffing them out and letting them into the air
into a cloud of smoke
and the world hates you
because of me
but it hates me too
and I wish you the best of ******* luck
except I'm a drunk liar
and a drunken hypocrite
you don't give a ****
and I might not do better
but that's still better than you
I feel bad
for the feathers that stay tucked in your pillowcase
that you sleep on every night
that you suffocate
with your cigarette stained lies
that you burn people with
I will walk on maybe
but with cigarette burns on my arms
I'll wear your lies on my sleeve
and show off your cherry pepper voice to the world
you're invited to my party
and to my showcase
just sit in the back row where I can't see you
and leave before the finale
and never mention it again
You should probably tell her that you miss me
and not burn her with cigarette stained lies
oh who am I kidding?
You're a ******* chain smoker
and she's *******
If I wasn't such a bitter human being
I'd feel sorry for her

Chao.

sometimes...
i just wish.
i could be.
in a place.
with all white walls.
and all white tile floors.
                                                          alone.
and have big huge paint buckets.
with lots of colours.
and i could create my own world.
and live in it.
                                                          alone.
without a care.

Time to dance beneath the lightning
and let the cold air wash over
let the thunder cleanse my ear drums
and the rain wash away my tears
let the storm water the greenery of Alonedom.

Sight of new features
and new heights of new creatures
through the lens of Polaroid cameras
instant
pictures portraying perfect
candid questions
and candid feelings
of sneaky smirks
on a sidewalk
of sneaking peeks at quiet quirks

I picture us as
picturesque
I picture brusque
flawless awkwardness

This fits nicely into the story of my life
A nice chapter leading up to the ******
The ****** that wasn't as long and steady as it should have been
A ****** that took a vertical drop to an unresolved conclusion
This fits nicely into the story of my life
It took up a few pages
But I'll have to wait for the publication of the sequal
to find out what happens next

This rough draft of Part II is a bad sketch
There is grammer errors and mispellingz
My punctuation. Is off as, well as my punctuality
But the sequal will be released in time

As the author of my story,
I'm not sure any words will start with the letter you.

Shower me with presents of your presence
Heal me, if only for a second.
Feel me, if only for a stroke.

Legs crossed
Slouchy socks
Pulsing foot
Waiting for nothing
With a stomach full of money.

Some things work
and some things don't move at all

Remember that cogwheels
remain turning in every joint

We were a cold case.
--emphasis on the "cold".

I'm sure if I saw my eyes on someone else
I would think they are beautiful.
But on myself
I don't notice them at all.

I don't wish to see
the world in black and white
but a dull sepia
would be nice

I like this a little bit but not enough to be sure of it and I can't stand for you to see me fall.
So I'll just lie to everyone and not admit that the world has won and I won't let them in at all.

Because this world is so much bigger than I and all I ever really do is try to find my mind but I lose it everytime just because I'm maddened by every sigh.

I get tangled in these sheets alone and get strangled by this dial tone and that is all I'll ever know.
Try not to mis-create with all this hate but I always make and relive mistakes and this all I think I can take

Because this feeling is so much bigger than I and all I ever really do is lie to find my mind but I lose it everytime just because I'm maddened by your beautiful sigh.

And these are my confessions on a canvas sheet in an exhibit for every critic to see and they can break me down to the ground just as long as I go with such a deafening sound and they can kick me down to the ground just as long as I crash with such a deafening sound.

I like you quite a bit and yes I know that I'm sure of it but I can't stand for you to let me fall.

manual laborers all present

ready to begin

heart, liver, lungs, stomach

all here

ready to begin



each piling up bricks one by one

stacking them on top of each other

manual labor taking

seconds

          minutes

                    days

                          years



time flying by as the bricks keep piling up

held tightly by violet veins

squeezing the bricks close and tense



finally

after a decade of organic construction

a wall stands as tall as china's

visible by extra terrestrials on a distant world



but what was not visible was the familiar natural disaster

that stormed in from behind

coming in from the blind spot



this friendly natural disaster shook down the wall

it cut the veins with violent blades

and left to continue with its destruction of construction



the heart, liver, lungs, and stomach

watched their masterpiece crumble

down

into the earth.

Touch me softly
in order
-skin
-tissue
-bone
grab them all at once
and I'll get bruised

I sprinkle the ones I love
with flakes of pestilence
that season my skin.

If my foot has the power
and strength
to destroy an entire kingdom
beneath an ant hill,
then how come
it's not brave enough
or strong enough
to run away?

I wish I could leave footsteps behind me as I walk away,
but my feet are not powerful enough
to stop moving forward.

For you, conversation is a one way sign
staked in the ground
showing what you know
You're the sign and I am the universe
I'm pretentious and ignored
When I shine a flashlight in your
already blind eyes
it burns but you wouldn't know
You don't even know
what a red-meated human being
smells like
but you know the contours of your
own brain

Now tell me,
What do I know?

Empty walls and conversations with myself
Analyzing memories of tea stains on my denim shirt.

I miss the heat
that wasn't humid
and the cold
that was
a cool breeze

Come be my cloud
that keeps me comfortable
like you were before

I'm so uncomfortable