I'm your free-love woman
and I'd be your free-love woman
if I didn't I waaaaaant yoooou
I love you with everything I got
every candle stick, plate, and mirror I've salvaged
and I'd be your martyr
if I didnt somewhere in the back of my mind
waaaaaant yoooou
y'see lover
I have alot of love to give
that I'm swallowed alive
by those unrepresented in our unprecedented love
The same thing that reprells me baby
brings my heart on stone table, to you
yoooou
yoooou
and I wish it were true
that my service
wasnt a diservice to our love
I wish my chaste love didnt corrupt the good things between us
but you give me the freedom
that makes me want to possess you, by any vague understanding of the word
you give me the respect
that makes me want to disrespect your wishes
you give me the understanding
that makes me ignore your meaning
You arent a veneer
and god I hope you arent just a moment
because I wont have no other choice but to use that moment to cry for all the years
without you to experiance my love, to animate my love, to understand my love
because you get a treasured vulnerable piece of me
that nobody, nobody will ever be wise enough to touch, if to see at all
and it bothers me that those after you
to receive my bits and pieces
because they arent like you. they aren't big enough for the whole thing
wont know who
made it possible
one man, that knew how to hold me at arm and shoulders length
because he knew I needed love, I needed to be touched, I needed my meaning to be felt, I needed to be fed, I needed to be understood, she needed her abstract ingenious to be solved
he wanted, he needed to be that man
and he wouldn't sabotage that with his insecurity or needs
in the way I sabotage our love
for mine

i see better in the dark
i see things about myself
i see things about you
that arent there when the lights are on

you can drag me away
and i will always crawl back
i can be in two places at once
but one is just a reflection

i believe that the grass here is greener
but what would i know about that
i cant go outside
or the daylight will blind my eyes

i just sit by the dim light of a monitor
for hours upon hours
typing away about things
that will never exist in my world

leave my door shut
and let my lay quietly
to think about today
about nothing at all

There are words that hurt and heal
Hurts like a knife that doesnt cut it hurts as if tho
Why say things you dont really mean
To hurt the hurter two bads dont make a good
Two goods dont make a bad but a good

If you get hurt say thoughful things back
Rather than a blind minded attack
You will heal your self in the process
It'll confuse the hurter and it will upset and they will stop

Words arent always there to be said sometimes your mind is desert dead
All things that are said to hurt is because they are jealous
They really wish to be you
They really wish to have you
Or they really are down right heartless

God's always watching weither you believe it or not
You may not see him or hear him but its not same on his point of view
Bring him in your heart you will feel new from the start
Love the world as God does all will go good or it will get slightly better

More you trust in him the easier it will be in life
You have my word.

I live every day in fear
Of being pulled down your genetic rabbit hole
To tumble and fall into the pile of pills you unsuspectingly drown in
Numbing your mind, clouding your eyes
They slip them into your yogurt when you arent looking
And so you spoon feed it to yourself,
Bit by bit
You swallow and smile
It's delicious, isn't it?
They they don’t  know its not a choice
You were born to drown,
Whether in a pile of pills that clouds your eyes and slows your body
Or in uncontrollable emotion contorting your reality and killing your melodies.

You are
You are
a chiseled statue
a myth, animated under my gaze
tangible flesh under my hands
out of my closeted mind
you are
you are
in essence, a beautiful mirror
of a beautiful essence
For Adonis, I come to understand
my feelings are lulled under your tongue
patience
as my blind senses seek them out
you are
you are
a silent strength
owning to yourself
must I thank
you
this dance
of serpents of ether
smoothing feathery scales over the riddling bones of Lilith
I owe this response to you
For the things you stand for, the truth under which a fined tooth comb scrutinizes
grasps of tickling warm fire conjure my intentions
I am a smooth stone, burning by the illicit form and desire of this worldly hearth
under my arms you reach and you soothe
this idea from the small of my back, out of reach
I walk my thoughts further away from you
to objectify the sensations that pursue
Eros draws
his serrated arrow tip alongside my cool unassaulted skin
should I linger here, I'll find it sheared
and my sanctity tampered
use this silence to displace this feeling from outside of me
so I can take my leave
lay frozen still as I divulge and lavish upon you my disgusting intentions
to my absence
so I can leave
and rid myself of uncharacteristic traits
tempting
butterfly wings fluttering against the underside of my skull
I am not tempted
I do not regress
Eros is unwelcome here
when he speaks of this particular entity
under his outstretched upper lip
I am enraged
what can a boy-youth know of the complexities of the feminine spirit
to which the heart works in unison
my feelings are my own, in a shallow drawer where they aren’t tosseled
arent felt
I may feel the warmth of them under my desk
but I refuse to eye the key
where do you get the audacity
to touch and give advice to one as old as me
my feelings belong to me
not the wild underside of a rooting pig
hunt them mercilessly with your arsenal instead
as your mother-Aphrodite
inspires their sloshed pursuit of an obscured truth
put your maquillage on them
and clear your mind of mischievous foolishness
or vain undersanding

Why do I give so much of my power away when its my beauty that makes life stay
I know
I do myself in, again and again
I know
But is it possible that I've had some sort of help
holding in this type
form of a yelp
I think immaturity is casting your eyes from
the immature side to you
sometimes it feels to be hurt
sometimes it feels to be foolish
to break your own heart
sometimes it feels to be jelous
Sometimes it hurts to be you
because not everyone can see
for all that you have been and feel enternally
can be
not just anyone, if anyone
can crawl into your crawl space
and some dont know marvel at what they find
some kind of different precious jewel
envy is just a curious lense over your beautiful eyes
and does it hurt
to know that this too is part
not of you
but the world for which you were created to play
created to grow
and to delay
you arent yourself darling, you arent yourself darling
and thats okay
because I find you so so so beautiful
and even with those devious sinful
mornful eyes
crying, holding behind
there is a beauty that justifies
so untouched

being a human is acting a foolish runt
but dont despise
no dont despair

its just a rut

from which you were taken
with worldly hands
and cast upon the shadows of the worldly lands
from your home
on those sweeping hillsides
in the tender of a vulnerable, sweet, sweet heart
like sweet cherry juice licked from the palm of a tender loving hand
my sweetheart
to which you've always belonged
always felt at ease
at being at home
you know not of displeasure

yes, being alone

isnt it nice to know what you're not from what you are?
from those feelings that parade their lies
up and down
your comely spine
this fortune reveals your ownly demise


being. so. beautiful.

i never pledge
i take that back
i stopped a check once
to a radio station that i really love
a breaking-all-the-molds station
i listen to NPR
like that shit is going out of style
like im going to break this milli vanilli tape
after one more blame it on the rain
im dating myself
but truth be told
i would rather buy another carton
you showed me the most life changing radio
songs that made me weep for humanity
retreat deep within myself with universal contemplation
and yet a cottonless dromedary takes the cake

around others i curse these lapses in reporting
this evening news wrap-up banter
and i fake laugh at you
or should i say with you

but i feel your pain
i tried to sell time shares
rich with fake laughter
every time i hear it
you begging for money that is
im taken back to a place
where
i was foolhardy
and manipulative
knowledgeable
anxious
and vibrant

i use those moments of nostalgia
to think of her
you know who im talking about
im looking at you RADIOLAB
IRA GLASS you arent getting away with this either
you know her
i dream about what could have been
when i was foolhardy, manipulative, knowledgeable, anxious and vibrant
and how it would be like today
if i had the guts then
or time travel now
AND
if i wasnt even any of the above

but i have her now
and we listen together
we just talk over the drive
and the sponsorship ads
oh yeah
and the international news
its just depressing
OH and the bbc stuff
i dont "get" their accent

Blue

And I dont think you understand

It isn’t that

Language and wording

mucking itself up in translation

Freedom is what i believe in

but belief means nothing to you

I think you transcend

You don’t know why, right?

Words and Language

translations that arent always accurate

Freedom is what I seek

but what does that mean to you?

i leaned to smoke
from film noir
the gritty grey frames
i first saw in cloudy rooms
completely antithetical to the vibrant blockbusters
from my childhood

if i can afford it
i still buy a non-filtered soft-pack
and puff them
three puffs just before
anything is inhaled
mostly for effect
drama

but when i cant
i just think of bogart
tear the filter off
and proceed

but it was never
so much about the act
drawing in a cloud
of overly-processed plant matter
but about the etiquette

if you have ever burned down
something without cotton
you know it is certainly a messy ordeal
but what hepburn and tracy taught
what grant and cagney spoke
with their actions of course
is that there is a reason to this madness

i practice
and i try to teach
that this is an elegant process

while taking in a deep breath
of something
you arent encouraged to love
without any health benefits
simply out of a base habit
some of that shit is going to get in your mouth

it may taste bitter too,
depending on how your buds are aligned,
but grow up
you cant keep just spitting where
other people will soon walk

they never did that
my heroes
instead
they stuck out
the tip of their tongue
pursed their lips
as the face made by
a baby on a commuter rail
staring at you
and you echo back
with a tiny poke
of your front 10000 buds
mostly for spectacle

and when that teensy bit emerges
within or without the train
you have to gently pick
with the forefinger and the thumb
the infinitesimal bits
resting at the tip
pluck them away
rub those two finger together
and pretend
that youre only smoking

and
if you arent looking closely enough
ill tell you
things are turning back into grey
and you turn RIGHT back into
the misogynist you hated
but emulated

youre still smoking though
handing out smokes in fact

holding up "the walls of jericho"
laughing at those
who dont know how
to fold a sheet

oh. but i pledge to quit
and you to change
and us to bond
and my smokes to wain

this isnt about the filter-less
that i had at 3am
its about what i commit
and what you
can respond with
how this can work
and the etiquette necessary

let me
let me
pick the fleck from the tip
of the teasing tongue
just for you
and you tell me
when i have something
in the place that
used to be my mustache

My monster is beautiful
A twisting turning red mass
6 feet or so,
Ten fingers and ten toes
Groaning and reaching blindly.

My monster is a man with kind eyes
A nice smile
And two dead hearts.

My monster talks
And talks
And breaks worlds apart
To save the ones he cares about.

My monster carries the universe upon his shoulders
Stitching the cracks with his words and machines
Crying for the ones who arent remembered.

He is
A monster
And a villian.

But above that,
He is a man.

And above all, he is a doctor.